<?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-4496838907455562649</id><updated>2011-07-29T14:02:26.549+08:00</updated><title type='text'>epilogue ♥</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-8206833772214187898</id><published>2010-01-27T19:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T22:36:16.118+08:00</updated><title type='text'>well, if that's love, it comes at much too high a cost.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S2Am9S6vgKI/AAAAAAAAALk/U3scQtnHQp0/s1600-h/4164759025_da547a9341_thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S2Am9S6vgKI/AAAAAAAAALk/U3scQtnHQp0/s200/4164759025_da547a9341_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431383985100914850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whoever you are holding me now in hand,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Without one thing all will be useless,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I give you fair warning before you attempt me further,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not what you supposed, but far different.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who is he that would become my follower?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The ways is suspicious, the result uncertain, perhaps destructive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You would have to give up all else, I alone would expect to be your sole and exclusive standard. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your novitiate would even then be long and exhausting,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The whole past theory of your life and all conformity to the lives around you would have to be abandon'd,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Therefore release me now before troubling yourself any further, let go your hand from my shoulders,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Put me down and depart on your way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Walt Whitman: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Leaves of Grass&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;ol style="display: inline !important; "&gt;&lt;li style="display: inline !important; "&gt;Life's been hectic lately. So tired, and so busy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yet another reason to leave this place. Would be nice to stay elsewhere, especially if life has a slower pace. But I guess I'll have to muddle through, for these two years at least. Finally had a wake-up call, especially after watching "An Education" (which was scripted by Nick Hornby!), and so I'm finally determined about working hard now to get my not-so amazing self into a relatively good university. I'll manage - hopefully.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In terms of the more emotional aspect of things - that can go die. Fulfilling something that my heart&lt;i&gt;thinks&lt;/i&gt; (oh the irony of that phrase) for the short term is definitely not going to get me anywhere in the future. Sure, I like him, but as the lyrics in defying gravity go..."it comes at much too high a cost". Oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Need to get back to concentrating and working. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Loves x&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-8206833772214187898?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/8206833772214187898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/well-if-thats-love-it-comes-at-much-too.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/8206833772214187898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/8206833772214187898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/well-if-thats-love-it-comes-at-much-too.html' title='well, if that&apos;s love, it comes at much too high a cost.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S2Am9S6vgKI/AAAAAAAAALk/U3scQtnHQp0/s72-c/4164759025_da547a9341_thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-8064830444226408763</id><published>2010-01-20T19:45:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T20:04:19.204+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i don't want to give my heart to you, because i'm afraid of what will happen.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S1btIxmxswI/AAAAAAAAALc/pWNg0EsSMIQ/s1600-h/djsfhakda4.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S1btIxmxswI/AAAAAAAAALc/pWNg0EsSMIQ/s200/djsfhakda4.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428787135852425986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Since I'm procrastinating again, I figured I might as well update my blog. I've been sick this morning, with a fever, and I'm still not feeling that well. Except I should go back to school tomorrow (I hate skipping school, especially since we're expected to catch up with a lot of work lately), and I miss my best friends. They kept me company today, since they went online at every opportunity, and I've been asleep most of the time, but I guess it would've been nice to be with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;So. There's an Oedipus Rex essay waiting to be written, some extra maths revision wouldn't hurt, plus some French homework. A pile of work, yet I didn't do much today (since I was trying to sleep my sickness and fatigue off), and I'm &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; procrastinating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Oh well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Nothing much happened lately, except the fact that I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;finally&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; divorced Justin. His whole "you can't disown me anymore than I can disown you" statement made me want to cut the relationship, which I did, and now he's supposedly engaged to Crys, which amuses me.  But yeah, that's a relief, since I no longer have to deal with the whole "ANNA LOVES JUSTIN" and "You guys are married!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;But it's still not helping me cope. I've been so tired lately, hence falling ill and swooning (okay, I'm exaggerating a bit here), but it really does feel like I'm just going to collapse, and with an exam on Saturday, collapsing isn't the best idea. I'm already prepared to fail the SAT, since I know I haven't prepared as well as I should have, and I suck at multiple choice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;And things haven't been the greatest lately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;He&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; who has been making me happy lately hasn't been doing so these few days. Something happened, but I'm not too sure what, and it's been gnawing at me, bothering me in the deep pits of my stupid brain which won't concentrate at all. Hopefully it'll all be okay by the end of January.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Can't help thinking that this month is my doom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Maybe it's like...Caesar. Except I don't have a crazy soothsayer to remind me to "Beware the ides of January"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I better get going with that stupid Oedipus Essay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Is he a victim? Of course. But he's also stupid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Good night peeps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Anna's going to concentrate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Loves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/4496838907455562649-8064830444226408763?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/8064830444226408763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-dont-want-to-give-my-heart-to-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/8064830444226408763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/8064830444226408763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-dont-want-to-give-my-heart-to-you.html' title='i don&apos;t want to give my heart to you, because i&apos;m afraid of what will happen.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S1btIxmxswI/AAAAAAAAALc/pWNg0EsSMIQ/s72-c/djsfhakda4.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-841956574907172846</id><published>2010-01-16T23:12:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T00:39:51.324+08:00</updated><title type='text'>would you be surprised that you are on my mind?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S1Hb8JHuNQI/AAAAAAAAALU/5HR68ufHq7o/s1600-h/set22q.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S1Hb8JHuNQI/AAAAAAAAALU/5HR68ufHq7o/s200/set22q.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427360852245099778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I've been kinda pathetic today, moping around and not being very constructive. I'm in one of those &lt;i&gt;moods&lt;/i&gt; again, where I tend to get all emotional and want to cry at nothing. I stayed in bed until 2 P.M (despite sleeping at a...well...kinda decent hour), and just basically felt like crap when i woke up, turned around and forced myself to sleep again. Why so miserable? It's not liking I'm going through a bad break-up or anything.Heck, I think a break-up is what's needed. Although, technically speaking, how is a break-up possible when there wasn't a relationship to start with?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I'm going nuts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Although, in all fairness, it's post-12, and I don't have anyone to chat with apart from N at the moment. But then again, it has nothing to do with my morning mood. I'm disappointed in myself to a certain extent, especially since I know I need to get my act together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;But, I just felt really bad this morning. But it's all over now (in terms of the bad, horrible "I want to die" mood).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Did some SAT prep this afternoon - I really think I'm going to fail now. Hopefully I can somehow cram some stuff in by the end of next week and HOPEFULLY get some decent mark. Or I'll really be in a permanent bad mood for the rest of the year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Rewatched &lt;i&gt;Time Traveller's Wife&lt;/i&gt; again today, since Mum didn't watch it before. It made me teary at the end (god - what is wrong with me today? So emotional), and Eric Bana is love. Loved him the most in &lt;i&gt;The Other Boleyn &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;Girl&lt;/i&gt;, even though he was a complete jerk in that one. He was pretty awesome in &lt;i&gt;Star Trek&lt;/i&gt; too. But yeah. Hate the Alba girl, love the younger version of Claire. Book was a thousand times better than the movie though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;And speaking of books - I've been reading Tamora Pierce today, as a break from the Austen streak I've been going on. Finished the first book from the &lt;i&gt;Protector of the Small&lt;/i&gt; Quartet, and tomorrow I'm either back to &lt;i&gt;Persuasion&lt;/i&gt; (Austen), or I might decide to start &lt;i&gt;Jacob's Room&lt;/i&gt; (Virginia Woolf). I'll see, depending on my mood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Getting haircut tomorrow, stupid fringe is getting into my eyes, especially when I wear my contacts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Also, just before I finish off...found a new artist called Brad Doggett on YouTube. His voice is pretty good :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I'm out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Messed up post but whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I feel better - sort of. Still feel like skinning &lt;i&gt;someone&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Loves.&lt;/span&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/4496838907455562649-841956574907172846?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/841956574907172846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/would-you-be-surprised-that-you-are-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/841956574907172846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/841956574907172846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/would-you-be-surprised-that-you-are-on.html' title='would you be surprised that you are on my mind?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S1Hb8JHuNQI/AAAAAAAAALU/5HR68ufHq7o/s72-c/set22q.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-5815898270065874798</id><published>2010-01-15T23:01:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T00:02:15.284+08:00</updated><title type='text'>you're everything i need and more, it's written all over your face.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S1CDeLJWoOI/AAAAAAAAALM/mhPqeWtBhw8/s1600-h/wpvmjj2et_827.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S1CDeLJWoOI/AAAAAAAAALM/mhPqeWtBhw8/s200/wpvmjj2et_827.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426982105392783586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Since you're reading this again (whoever you might be), this probably means I have sunken into another completely bored mood, and had some ideas floating in my head that I wanted written down. But more likely it's the boredom factor that's bringing me here again. I always have &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;some&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; ideas filled in my head. But I guess boredom's the main factor that really makes me want to write something down, since blogging serves as some sort of procrastination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;But anyhow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Today, during our Athletic Finals, a conversation with R really got me thinking: what's the difference between &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;infatuation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;? Infatuation is being wildly obsessed about someone (given this context), and thinking it through, is it not true that all those love stories, all the greatest novels in the world involving love, do the lovers not share the same symptoms as infatuation? Your head gets clouded with thoughts of that person, and that person only...everything you think about, talk about can somehow relate back to that certain &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; who's special there in your heart. All the usual clichés: heart skips a beat, butterflies in your stomach when you see him, can't meet his gaze, blush, always try and see him - one second without each other is absolutely unbearable. Especially for a girl, who has always had fantasies about meeting the perfect guy, the Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth Bennett, the Romeo to Juliet, the Mr. Rochester to Jane Eyre, there's undoubtedly connotations between infatuation and &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;true love&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;/b&gt;But what does it mean to truly love someone? Is it really what most people experience - that bubbly need to always be there with him, to want him to hold you in his arms, whisper quietly "I love you", and then have him love you as much as you need him? Love exists, in many forms, and this infatuation, true, it may be considered as a &lt;i&gt;type&lt;/i&gt; of love, but is it really what we strive for in life? All the romance novels that I've read, may it be &lt;i&gt;Pride and Prejudice&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;Jane Eyre &lt;/i&gt;or more modern books by Nora Roberts, Sophie Kinsella or even Stephanie Meyer, the couple are always being portrayed to be &lt;b&gt;falling in love&lt;/b&gt;, and maybe plans to get married. Not many books out there might accurately portray the &lt;i&gt;meaning&lt;/i&gt; of love. The clichéd, traditional signs of&lt;i&gt; being in love&lt;/i&gt; simply are another way of saying that you are, in fact, infatuated with someone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;So does someone as cynical as I am believe that "&lt;b&gt;love forever&lt;/b&gt;" a myth then? The answer, unfortunately for myself, is no. If you get to know a person well enough, you &lt;i&gt;will&lt;/i&gt; start to care about them. I truly believe that there is {love}, but it's just not that chemical, passionate, heat-burning love that you first experience when you supposedly fall in love with them. Jane Austen (undoubtedly one of my favourite authors of all time) explored the differences between marriage and love. Why was &lt;i&gt;Sense and Sensibility&lt;/i&gt; a must-read for young women? The portrayal of Marianne, her journey from love, love lost and then marriage was undoubtedly one of the most inspiring for me, especially as Marianne didn't end up with Willoughby, whom most would have thought she would. In a relationship, there's bound to be one who cares &lt;i&gt;more&lt;/i&gt; for the other, and in Marianne's case, money and affluence was chosen above the love she could have given to Willoughby, thus the loss of the novel's heroine is no one's fault but Willoughby himself. But what Jane Austen really showed, in my opinion, was the relationship between love and marriage. Austen's point in this novel, in my opinion, is that when you start caring about someone, or spending a lot more time with them, you start to love them, despite the flaws (unless it was some sort of deep hatred). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;But loving someone - what does that really mean? In a relationship, there will always be someone who loves the other more. Using &lt;i&gt;Sense and Sensibility&lt;/i&gt; again as an example, Marianne clearly loved Willoughby more, as Willoughby was willing to give their love up in order to gain affluence (or so I would assume). So between two people, there will always be some degree of heartbreak (to be on the pessimistic side). Love is selfish; with some sort of input, you expect to receive output, which may not always necessarily be there. But does this mean that as a person who loves more than the other, you should just let it be because you love them &lt;i&gt;so&lt;/i&gt; much, &lt;i&gt;so so &lt;/i&gt;much? Why should you? Sure, t'is better to have loved and lost, than to have never have loved at all, but love is mutual. It does take two to tango afterall, and with an unwilling partner, or a clumsy one (metaphorically speaking) who steps on your feet every 10 seconds while you gracefully take the dance floor - is he really worth the time, or should you move on and try and find a better dancer?  Loving someone is to be there to support and care, to want to be there with him, to enjoy the silences and the conversations, to be carried away for hours without realising the lost time, to feel happy as a panda with bamboo when he smiles at you and squeezes your hand. but sometimes when the happiness fades, when it gets too much to handle, you should also know how to let go and just smile at the memories. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Are you still reading my blab? Well done. Here, have an invisible cookie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I guess some of my thoughts + what has happened lately got me thinking and off on some rant. There's much more, I assure you, but I really don't want to be typing up an extended-essay length rant here. Or have I done that already?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;But yeah. It's time to focus and stop going astray off &lt;b&gt;the path&lt;/b&gt;; namely, being able to kick some ass, study hard, aim for and reach the stars. I've been distracted, and thinking it through, it's time to study study study. Aim for that awesome university Anna! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Boyfriends don't last forever, let alone a simple small infatuation with a boy who seems to see right through me. Or does he really?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Who knows. But for now, whatever. Nothing will ever come out of this relationship, and friends always last longer than anything to do with love (or is it hormones?). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;&lt;還是好朋友, 比愛人更長久&gt;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;But &lt;b&gt;if&lt;/b&gt; he asked me out, I'm not too sure of what my answer may be. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;But there's only a minimal chance of that. Actually, minimal is an overstatement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Now it's 12:00 AM here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Time to stop procrastinating.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Loves!&lt;/span&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/4496838907455562649-5815898270065874798?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/5815898270065874798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/youre-everything-i-need-and-more-its.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/5815898270065874798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/5815898270065874798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/youre-everything-i-need-and-more-its.html' title='you&apos;re everything i need and more, it&apos;s written all over your face.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S1CDeLJWoOI/AAAAAAAAALM/mhPqeWtBhw8/s72-c/wpvmjj2et_827.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-7366468413320613214</id><published>2010-01-09T21:04:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T22:03:25.829+08:00</updated><title type='text'>when you and i said goodbye, i felt the angels cry.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S0iBG6AC_ZI/AAAAAAAAAK8/XwU429xR534/s200/dec09typ89.png" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424727706816413074" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small; "&gt;Today was a relatively normal Saturday - slept until 12 (since I ended up sleeping rather late), and then went out to TC with my parents. Managed to replenish my stock of contact lenses, and fix my glasses. Then just walked around for a while, looking around in some shops.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Afterwards, got back home and started watching &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0896031/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;, which is a movie that was released in 2008 (I think), and is a script of Tennessee Williams' which was never made into a film. I think, objectively, that it wasn't a very entertaining film, and the story was interesting, but quite choppy at times. It was obviously a Williams' piece though - the references to the mental asylum and the southern setting was almost impossible to overlook (so impossible that I somewhat started to analyse the film in a literary way...). Comparatively speaking though, I saw many parallelisms between this one and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;A Streetcar Named Desire&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;, and found this one quite dull in comparison. Maybe it was the lack of Brando, maybe it was because the sheer brilliance of the insanity of Blanche couldn't quite be reflected in the character of Fisher Willow. Either way, it was an...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;interesting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; film I guess. One of the most memorable quotes (that I actually bothered to jot down while watching the movie) was: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;it's because you want somebody to love you that you love, and you don't know how to arrange that. And not all the teardrop diamonds lost and found can arrange that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; At the ending of the film (spoiler alert for any of you out there who actually &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; to watch another Tennessee Williams movie after all that Streetcar we did in Term 1), the fact she asks the main male lead, James Dobyne, to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;settle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; for her just annoyed me like mad. Why should she want to marry him anyways? He went and deliberately made her life difficult at that party, ended up hooking up with some random girl who stole the diamond earrring in the first place, and then he's asked to settle for her? For me, that just doesn't make any sense. Although I immensely enjoyed the piano scene where she was going crazy and playing the piano like crazy. Parallelisms for me in real life? - to a certain extent. I know that when I'm all emotional, I like to hammer a few notes on my piano to make myself feel better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Apart from all that, I guess today was a pretty normal, wasted day. I did nothing at all, and since I'm getting a slight headache, I highly doubt that I will be doing any work later on tonight. Although one can never stop hoping that I will finally get some sense in my head that I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; to start working a lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Also, need to brainstorm ideas for my extended essay. I was originally considering to write it based on a mix of English and Geography - maybe something such as gender inequality as expressed in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;A Thousand Splendid Suns&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;, but my Mum convinced me that it was a politically sensitive issue that might potentially cost me marks. I then thought of the idea of "Why did Jane Austen never marry?", and answer that question through analysing her views on the conventions of love and marriage from her novels. Although just an idea, but nonetheless, I think I'm pretty set on either of these two subject areas. Not really interested in writing 4000 words on anything else...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Now, back to being bored and doing nothing. I've reverted back to playing Restaurant City on Facebook since I really have nothing better to do, and I'm getting ignored on MSN, N went out for dinner and F...well she &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; got back from reading &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Wicked Lovely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt; (which I lent her...ironically I made her ignore me). B went off to eat Sushi with Chris. And I have no more movies to watch, unless I start rewatching. Sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Oh, and here's a little comic that made me smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; "&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S0iMabnObRI/AAAAAAAAALE/b8ui3NI-MLc/s1600-h/wheat.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S0iMabnObRI/AAAAAAAAALE/b8ui3NI-MLc/s320/wheat.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424740136884530450" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 209px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;From &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.explosm.net/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Cyanide and Happiness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Ohwell. I'm going to stop blogging now, and see if I can get rid of this stupid headache and then do something constructive. Like learning vocabulary and start using it in these posts and confuse you guys who actually bother reading my random spam of words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;But for now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Goodbye.&lt;/span&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/4496838907455562649-7366468413320613214?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/7366468413320613214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/when-you-and-i-said-goodbye-i-felt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/7366468413320613214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/7366468413320613214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/when-you-and-i-said-goodbye-i-felt.html' title='when you and i said goodbye, i felt the angels cry.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S0iBG6AC_ZI/AAAAAAAAAK8/XwU429xR534/s72-c/dec09typ89.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-8004247539451927335</id><published>2010-01-08T22:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T23:52:49.404+08:00</updated><title type='text'>how can i move on when i'm still in love with you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S0dHhDw5xWI/AAAAAAAAAK0/AkOLzYvdVZA/s1600-h/paulimapi49.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S0dHhDw5xWI/AAAAAAAAAK0/AkOLzYvdVZA/s200/paulimapi49.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424382909462725986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I wonder how long this updating blog on a regular basis will actually keep up. It just feels good lately to spill my heart out somewhere, and typing is just somewhat faster than my stupid notebook (or diary, I guess), and my messy writing gets unbearable after a while. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;So, what happened between yesterday and today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Surprisingly, not much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;But I guess I might as well type some stuff out, since I have nothing better to do. I want to stay up for a while, because there's &lt;i&gt;actually&lt;/i&gt; someone worth staying up for...but I don't know. Maybe when sleep overcomes me, I'll just ditch and run away. That always works.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;So today. The day started off with a very fun Chemistry lesson, which took up 2 hours 10 minutes. Hurray for listening to Ms.Lee drone on and on about the beauties of the shapes of molecules, bonded pairs and lone pairs. I guess the highlight of Chem today was probably the exercise at the end where we try to show the bonds that certain compounds had. The lesson all went wrong at this point, where the guys in our class were being very &lt;i&gt;mature&lt;/i&gt; about the shape of the balloons, and what they could make out of them (phallic anyone?). At one point, I heard that one of the guys stuck the...interesting shape in his pants, and walked into a classroom. Obviously a teacher who could handle a joke, and so he wasn't screwed for it. It amazes me when it comes to the maturity of the guys in my year though. 16 year olds - you would think that they were past the part where they still get all excited over it, but what can I say? They're &lt;i&gt;guys&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Free period was good, since I didn't need to use my brain, and Geo was so-so. We got shown a picture of the UK though, and the heavy amounts of ice covering the land really reminded me of &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0319262/"&gt;The Day After Tomorrow&lt;/a&gt;. The global climate change is getting quite obvious - and it amazes me how many ignorant people are still out there, proclaiming that it doesn't exist. I think added with a the data, it is a pretty obvious thing. Despite the fact that it &lt;i&gt;has&lt;/i&gt; happened before, it doesn't change the fact that industrial progress is actually speeding the whole process up, and can potentially cause more damage than previous examples. I guess for now, when the effects aren't yet as obvious, the benefits in terms of economical and personal gain will always come before the environment. Amazing how selfish mankind can be, yet as a person who says this, I can't definitely say that I'm any better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Maths was last, and it was generally quite dull. Our brains all exploded after 40 mins of curve sketching, and we all started to go off topic and not concentrate. After all that, we went to watch Sherlock Holmes. Although it didn't really follow my old impressions of the book, but it was entertaining to watch. Added on top of all that, I was also entertained somewhat by the fact Fran was sitting next to her Ryan (I stopped using letter references, since I read back to my old posts, and couldn't remember who I actually went out with...talk about &lt;b&gt;fail&lt;/b&gt;.). Was a good night, but now I'm just waiting for it to be even better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Maybe it'll get better tonight, who knows?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Waiting is always the hardest part. But I just need to do it for a little longer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Loves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/4496838907455562649-8004247539451927335?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/8004247539451927335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/when-youre-dreaming-with-broken-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/8004247539451927335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/8004247539451927335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/when-youre-dreaming-with-broken-heart.html' title='how can i move on when i&apos;m still in love with you?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S0dHhDw5xWI/AAAAAAAAAK0/AkOLzYvdVZA/s72-c/paulimapi49.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-3018129480919240370</id><published>2010-01-03T10:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T23:46:37.596+08:00</updated><title type='text'>but i got tired of waiting, wondering if you were ever coming around.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S0XrB3ydkoI/AAAAAAAAAKs/9fs-QhI0YAg/s1600-h/20090728183949.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S0XrB3ydkoI/AAAAAAAAAKs/9fs-QhI0YAg/s200/20090728183949.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423999743625630338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Another year has come and passed, and it's been months since I've updated my blog. Oh well. Let's try and catch up with everything!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;GCSE grades were generally good (7A*s, 2As), and IB's been a pain. Been really &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; busy lately, with all the work and IAs, IOPs, and catching up with stuff in general. It's pathetic how little sleep I've been getting, and I've even been sleeping at 2AM occasionally. It's the first week back from 2 weeks of holiday, and I'm already tired as hell. Heck, I even stayed up until 3 one day to finish a Chem IA (which wasn't even due the next day, ironically.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;But the holidays were good. Beijing was good. Although I didn't get to spend it with friends, it felt nice (higher level English, and the best adjective I could come up with was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;nice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;) to escape all the drama and the harsh realities of life (oh dear, I'm starting to sound like Blanche now...). I mean, it was like being stuck in this little separate bubble of mine, with no connection to the normal, hectic life with my classmates. I missed a few peeps like mad, especially F, N, B, P and K, but two weeks still passed relatively fast, especially with my immense amount of sleeping haha. Read a lot of books during those two weeks too, and so it was cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Lately I'm preparing for my actual SATs. After getting a 800 for my Chinese SAT (which was pretty easy - I walked in with absolutely no prep at all...), I guess my expectations of myself are pretty high. Especially the fact that I get a new iPod if I manage to get over 2000 points. Ironically, I've been fiddling with my blog and writing this post when I told my mum that I'd be revising SAT material. Ohwell. It'll all work out (I hope). I'll...just focus more during the weekend! Yes, the weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;But it's been good to be back to the "normal" life - if anything in my life can be considered to be "normal" - and to be back with friends and back with studies is satisfying to a certain degree. Although there's been a bit too much drama for my liking lately, it's turning out to be a promising start to a promising year. The level 7 I got for my IOP didn't hurt, at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Reading Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen, and it really is an amazing book. When do we need to use our sense, and when do we need to be passionate and fiery and just &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; rather than think about the consequences? I think that is still a question that I, myself, need to answer and I definitely need to find a balance between the two. Sometimes I would blurt out the most random things out before thinking it through clearly, and I guess that's probably what makes being friends with me difficult sometimes. Oh well, not my problem. I'm not the one who has to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;BEAR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; with myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Oh well. Back to doing nothing constructive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I wish &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; would talk to me instead of just...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;being online&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; and not talking at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;I envision myself stabbing him to little pieces now.&lt;/span&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/4496838907455562649-3018129480919240370?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/3018129480919240370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/but-i-got-tired-of-waiting-wondering-if.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/3018129480919240370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/3018129480919240370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2010/01/but-i-got-tired-of-waiting-wondering-if.html' title='but i got tired of waiting, wondering if you were ever coming around.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/S0XrB3ydkoI/AAAAAAAAAKs/9fs-QhI0YAg/s72-c/20090728183949.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-8396194294019854926</id><published>2009-08-18T08:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:16:10.794+08:00</updated><title type='text'>but there's room for two six feet under the stars.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SooLAQ2c2CI/AAAAAAAAAKU/hD1-G3-3JKg/s1600-h/1H023_bella_sol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SooLAQ2c2CI/AAAAAAAAAKU/hD1-G3-3JKg/s200/1H023_bella_sol.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371117604743993378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Haven't updated in quite a while - here's an update to make myself less guilty for not attending to my blog, when I pretty much said that I won't let it die down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's new?&lt;br /&gt;Got a new laptop yesterday. So happy! It's great, but then again, everything is great compared to my crappy old one. It's all pretty, and thin, and I'm getting all obsessed by using it and not doing any work. That's hardly my fault though. I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; to install the necessary programs, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways. Now for some less materialistic stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've been reading Margaret Mitchell's Gone with the Wind. Funnily, it's impact on me is far greater than I imagined before. I've seen quite a few parallelisms between me and Scarlett, and honestly, I guess it's not flattering. The way Scarlett puts Ashley on a pedestal, and just...gets obsessed with him annoys me to pieces. But I can't stop wondering - didn't I do the very same thing before? Is it really...love? Or infatuation? Or just out of habit? So many questions, all unanswered, and the answers only lie with myself. But I can't seem to answer them just yet. Twoa thing I know for sure though:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. If a guy like Rhett Butler comes along and sweeps me off my feet, there's no way I'd let him go. Stupid stupid Scarlett for not realising how much he means to her until it was too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Pedestal if it may be, infatuation, or even love - no longer there.  "My dear, I don't give a damn". What it used to be, it's completely over and done with. Bled out, dried out. For &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt; at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pssht, who says books can't help you deal with a broken heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait until school starts, minus all the homework. Hopefully results from Edexcel are good. So far, 3A*s, 2As.&lt;br /&gt;Aiming for an all A, or above streak. No B's pleaseee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New start, new beginning in THREE days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This a pretty random blog post. Not logic what-so-ever.&lt;br /&gt;Pretty much reflects my mood lately. No clue what I'm doing, no plans either.&lt;br /&gt;But for now, I'll manage. I should appreciate to learn in the present tense more too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forever and almost always,&lt;br /&gt;Loves.&lt;br /&gt;Anna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-8396194294019854926?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/8396194294019854926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/08/gone-with-wind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/8396194294019854926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/8396194294019854926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/08/gone-with-wind.html' title='but there&apos;s room for two six feet under the stars.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SooLAQ2c2CI/AAAAAAAAAKU/hD1-G3-3JKg/s72-c/1H023_bella_sol.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-8822351333339092687</id><published>2009-08-03T22:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:23:43.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'>being alone will make you realise when it's over, all in love is fair.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SneXV_LVktI/AAAAAAAAAKM/iGi_LI4ObcU/s1600-h/1U041_bella_sol.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SneXV_LVktI/AAAAAAAAAKM/iGi_LI4ObcU/s200/1U041_bella_sol.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365923885027267282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;For me, these two days feel like a finality.&lt;br /&gt;Finally...an end?&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe just new beginnings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've been drowning myself in work - work is, funnily enough, my friend. It actually helps me stop thinking about the random thoughts that bother me. To stop thinking sometimes is a....gift. Ignorance is bliss.But I need to concentrate in a way - SATs, IB...etc. Really need to try and get into a good uni, and lately I've realised that I don't have much time left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before all that, I really should take advantage of the time I have now. It  saddens me that there's people I may never meet ever again after leaving Hong Kong. I know I'll miss everyone loads, but for the time being, and live in the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;now&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Monday 3rd August - What a long day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Really long day, maybe because I hung around with a lot of people. Which is good, I guess. Day started off with Jason &amp;amp; SAT prep. 2 and a half hours, quite boring in general. Got my SAT mock back - 1780! Which isn't bad considering that I got dragged to go sit a 4 hour exam RIGHT after coming home from debate camp. At least, that's what I'm telling myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, met up with my beloved Pie and Ping. Girl stuff mainly - e.g. sticker pics! Later on went into Namco, went Taiko-ing. Which was pretty messed up since there was a dude who basically memorised all the beats and was...just insane. Ping has a really weird haircut, which....was worse than I imagined it; but it could be worse I guess. Honeymoon Dessert afterwards, since we had nothing to do, and time to kill. We ended up playing MASH, and apparently &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm going to get married to Nicholas Hoult&lt;/span&gt;. Look forwards to the wedding invites!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pie and Ping then left at around 4:30ish, and it was said that I'm meeting Nik and Kwanko at 6, so I had a lot of time to kill. Walked around Page One, and then realised that there's no where to sit in Starbucks, so went down again. Found out that it was raining, and thus I went to buy an umbrella. But God had torment in mind for me, and when I got out from Watsons with an umbrella, I was greeted by no rain at all. How lovely. Ended up crossing the street and sitting in KFC writing up some notes from SAT prep class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A while later, Kwanko came. 30 minutes early! Same with Nik. Definitely a new record. We then sat in KFC for half an hour, deciding where to eat, since Kwank said he wasn't that hungry (he had a buffet at lunch?), so we had the whole "where are we eating?", "you decide!", "I don't know..." e.t.c. Kimberly ran up the stairs, we saw each other and did the whole OH MY GOD thing, and hugged each other. I think that confused Nik and Kwank a bit. But it's okay. Hanging out with them (PDS bffs) Thursday night, which is cool. Kind of miss them. Anyways. Ended up going to Korean BBQ buffet place, which was cool. Kwank still ate tons more than me (despite his earlier remark that he wasn't hungry). Basically the night ended after we left the dinner place. Talked a lot, which was nice. Nik walked me back to the pier, and we chatted a lot about...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;things&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as I said earlier, these two days feel like a finality. I'm growing up, and these...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;things&lt;/span&gt; should be going too. I figured that it's useless trying to suppress my emotions, but maybe...just maybe....it will go away, especially as I've come to terms that nothing really will happen, and that I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt; to say goodbye. What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger, so I'm kind of glad about this end. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-8822351333339092687?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/8822351333339092687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/08/way-back-into-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/8822351333339092687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/8822351333339092687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/08/way-back-into-love.html' title='being alone will make you realise when it&apos;s over, all in love is fair.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SneXV_LVktI/AAAAAAAAAKM/iGi_LI4ObcU/s72-c/1U041_bella_sol.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-3071973532523474129</id><published>2009-07-29T14:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:25:20.112+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i'll never let you go if you promise to never fade away.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 100px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 100px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363765678728754994" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Sm_sd2MPNzI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/X_X4a4uhZx4/s200/Picture14.png" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It's been a while since I last blogged, but I assure you, it's because of my busy timetable. Between the camp, and SAT prep lessons, I guess I haven't found enough time to update. But here I am now, neglecting long reading passages (because paraphrasing is just really &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; boring)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Last week I joined HKPDS, a debate camp, for a week. 6 days of hardcore debating, and it was actually not as bad as I initially imagined. It was an awesome week actually, I really enjoyed myself (to my surprise...).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;20.07.2009 - "I think I know you! Were you from&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt; WIS?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;First day at HKPDS was pretty much a mix of emotions for me - mostly nerves and relief. I was always really worried that I wouldn't get along well with anyone, especially with room-mate, since the girl's dormitory was seperate from the guys, and all my friends were guys. I was completely worried about getting paired off with a local school girl (and pardon the discrimination, but I've always had a bad image of locals thanks to those in my school), and blew out a sigh of relief when I found out my room-mate, Dawn, was from GSIS and had a lot of the same values as me. I found out that a lot of people knew each other from past camps, or from the debating community (since it's actually a lot smaller than imagined). I basically knew no-one (surprise, suprise!), but I found Kimberly, who used to be a classmate of mine! Such a small world, and what a coincidence? I mean, really, what were the chances? But it was nice. We weren't that close before, but after sticking together during this camp, we really became good friends. We started our workshops, and I realised that I basically knew nothing at all, and despite the lessons being long and tiring, I actually felt that I learnt quite a lot.&lt;/span&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&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;21.07.2009 - "If you don't believe this, then you don't deserve to go to university."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;More debates again, but luckily (for most people), we had a speech/lecture by the honourable Anson Chan. It was great for most of the people in the audience, since they all fell asleep and got a good rest. Her speech, although should be valid since she only talked about her views, had a few holes in it. "I'm only presenting facts to you" - her so called facts were that Hong Kong should have universal sufferage and one man one vote. It was interesting to listen to her talk about politics, but I must confess that I sat there thinking how I believed the opposite. Not that I enjoy having a dictator leader in a country, but in some instances (such as China), it's the best solution. At least, for now. Just sat there listening to her attack how China has lack of freedom, lack of rights etc. I remember coming out of the lecture, and Ben was talking to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;B: "You didn't fall asleep?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;A: "Nope."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;B: "Oh my god - well done! I fell asleep within the first 5 minutes, and then woke up 15 minutes later..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Anyways. Apart from that, the day was just workshops + practice debates, which wasn't bad I guess. We were all really tired out by the end though. I had internet, so talked to Pie, Kwanko and Nik, and a few other people, whom I can't really remember since it was over a week ago. But love you guys. You guys kept me sane amongst all the insane master-debaters (lol).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;22.07.2009 - "Italian food sucks in Italy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;It amazed me how everyone talked about debate. Debate, debate and more debate. Even when the subject wasn't about what happened at this debate last year, or how someone messed up their argument a few months ago, people were generally talking in the tone of a debate. It was taunting I guess, seeing as I didn't have as much experience as most of the people I met there had. Even at the canteen, Ben and Dawn had a full scale debate and argument about whether or not Italian food in Italy sucked. It was pretty funny actually, so funny that I bothered to take a picture. Wednesday was when the debate rounds actually started, which was really tiring. By 10, when all the debates ended, we were all really tired out. Don't remember much from this day, although I think I was getting sick of all the debate talk, but I soon got accustomed to it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;23.07.2009 - "No matter how many rules you make, they'll always get around them somehow"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess Thursday brought a small break in our lovely debating world. Regina Ip gave a speech, and managed to wake everyone up by the constant Cantonese expressions and random "you know?" in the middle of her speech. She then, somehow, proceeded to talk about swearing, and how some people who were "dissatisfied" with the chief executive's decisions would swear and say "pok gai!". They later banned it apparently, and the people who were unhappy would use mandarin and say "bu gai" instead. Pretty epic I guess. Looks like bad words make their way into the political systems as well. Debates all day if I remember right. I think by Thursday I was really &lt;em&gt;really really&lt;/em&gt; sick of the food there - I ended up only eating cha siu (BBQ pork) or sandwiches. That said, the sandwiches tasted horrible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;24.07.2009 - "If he is salt, then I'm his pepper..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Friday was starting to get a bit more exciting. Last day of debates (we knew we weren't going in the finals for sure), and probably the first day that Dawn and I actually won a proper debate [THW assassinate political leaders as a foreign policy], but really, I think we were just lucky that the Opening Opp failed to mention a really important point. But we decided to hang about, and since it was nearly our last day, I took pics like mad. Public speaking was also on this day, and despite me messing up my speech, Dawn, Kimberly, Matthew and Hayden all got in the finals. Also Hwa and Paul. But that's just public speaking. Later on, we went to the "Championship Dinner", where everyone just kind of went crazy thanks to NO MORE DEBATES and needed to release some stress. Photos, talking, laughing at each other pretty much summed the whole thing up. I was so happy when I heard Tiff &amp;amp; Paul broke first, and Ben &amp;amp; Quentin managed to get into the semi-finals even though they were trying to mess up their last debate dileberately. Matthew and Kim got in too, to everyone's surprise, and later on it turned out that there were a few mistakes with the admin. But it turned out alright, and the day was fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;25.07.2009 - "I just randomly got a free hotdog?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Last day! Everyone was pretty sad that the week passed so quickly, and we were all miserable that we had to leave already. Although I'm sure no one would miss the food. Octi-finals, which Q&amp;amp;B managed to pass and get into the semis. Pretty hectic day, and we just walked around in formal wear, feeling all special. Took &lt;em&gt;tons&lt;/em&gt; of photos on Saturday due to everyone wanting to be able to remember our trip here. I was kind of sad in a way as we were leaving already, and I really liked the people I met there, but in a way I was glad that the debating and the intense schedules were over. After lunch, public speaking finals, topic being 15 minutes with Obama, and listening to what people came up with after 15 minutes really amazed me. The speeches were really good, especially Hwa's, who didn't win because he was completely off-topic, but it was really inspirational. The finals were really good - the debate teams were &lt;em&gt;amazing&lt;/em&gt;. Totally in awe. But the best was socialising with people and getting photos. I made some really great friends at PDS, and who knows when we'll see each other again? Maybe soon. Maybe next year? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I haven't decided if I'm going to PDS again next year or not, maybe I will. I guess I'll see. But I know for sure that if I do, it'll be great to meet you guys all again. Thanks for a great week!&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/4496838907455562649-3071973532523474129?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/3071973532523474129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/beautiful-letdown.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/3071973532523474129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/3071973532523474129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/beautiful-letdown.html' title='i&apos;ll never let you go if you promise to never fade away.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Sm_sd2MPNzI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/X_X4a4uhZx4/s72-c/Picture14.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-3963793808653084508</id><published>2009-07-19T10:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:24:02.943+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sometimes love comes around and it knocks you down.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SmKCSyR9m7I/AAAAAAAAAJs/KE4VcgtzvdU/s1600-h/1T058_bella_sol.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SmKCSyR9m7I/AAAAAAAAAJs/KE4VcgtzvdU/s200/1T058_bella_sol.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359989765770681266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Haven't updated in quite a while, and been ignoring our xPieFace blog due to lack of time and laziness. Note that around....8/10 posts are all written by F. That's how awesome I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, this blog is starting to become...my own? Somewhere I actually voice my thoughts. Funny thing is, I always think that no one comes here and reads it, but apparently they do. Maybe I should've written about less personal things, but to be honest, knowing me? I probably would've blabbed everything out to them anyhow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, let's catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thursday 16th July - "Even the girl is unimpressed!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Thursday was another "Girls Day" - I went out with F for the whole day (or...just afternoon thanks to her awesome sleeping habits). It was nice to have a break from all the guys, and just hang out with a girl...I think. I kept filling F in about what happened with all the guys and stuff, since she's NEVER online, and when she is, she randomly goes afk. She proceeded to laugh at my amazing love life (which is basically non-existent) and we went for sushi again, surprisingly [note: sarcasm]. Roamed around, sticker pictures,  normal pictures (which..half of them failed, but there were a few nice ones...), and just window shopped. I was originally looking for shoes, but most of the shoes that I liked were practically impossible to find amongst the glittery windows of the shops in Laforet and Island Beverly. Really - It seems that finding shoes that I absolutely adore is more uncommon than finding a factor to a polynomial equation the first go during trial and error. But it was nice to hang out, especially seeing as I can't see F's lovely face again in the next week...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Friday 17th July - "Ouch - That actually hurts..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Friday was biking, even though it was really really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; hot. Thanks to the guys. Might've been a more clever idea to go yesterday morning when it was all windy and rainy. I am, now, several shades darker again. I just started getting rid of the tan from Thailand! I met up with B, N and J at IFC at 12:30 (although I got there 20 minutes early...), and we met C at TST. It was funny since when we were buying tickets, some woman appeared from nowhere and tapped me on the shoulder, blabbed things about using the actual student octopuses...scared me a bit when I was tapped. But everything was okay afterwards. We got to Tai Po Market in around an hour, and N got a tad confused and we walked around the bus terminal for a while, looking for the bus. But all was well when we did find it and get on the bus. The usual activities that happens when you have N + J happened; random calling. It was pretty hilarious to be honest, and I admire them for it. I know for sure that I would just crack up and start laughing. Biking was good, although really tiring for me because I kept trying to keep up with 4 guys. On the way back though, I couldn't be bothered...but then N waiting for me, which made me feel worse, so I had to try and bike faster? The guys are all pretty sweet though, waited for us in the middle, and so I tried to pedal faster. On the bright side, nothing cramped and strained, so all's well. We got changed in the toilets at the MTR station - funnily enough, the guys change slower than I do, and afterwards, I heard unnecessary commenting about how they touched each other? I don't want to know. Took the KCR/MTR back, and I got this horrible headache. It got better when I slapped J with my iPod case (can't remember why though), and it supposedly hurt (I don't buy that though - I wasn't trying to make it hurt). We swapped lines, said goodbye to N at Admiralty, and headed off to Sushi again at Causeway. How lucky am I? - Sushi twice in two days. Last time I see C this year, so I gave him a hug before leaving with J to the ferry pier. And don't you all agree that it's horrible when you're with someone who doesn't talk much? You always think of things to say, and the weirdest topics come out of your mouth. I think J didn't mind me doing all the talking, but really...the choice of subjects weird kind of queer (abnormal, not homosexual). I hope I didn't make a complete fool of myself, talking for 30 mins non-stop about anything that flew in my head (not that F, B and N aren't used to it!), but it was weird. The day ended at 8:00 for me, when I got on the ferry, and headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really was trying to not write a wall of text again, but I couldn't help myself. Words just randomly fly out.&lt;br /&gt;So, last post for a week, unless I'm bringing my laptop for the debate program, which I still haven't decided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to miss everyone so &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; much, but at least this time I have a few friends to stay with. And I have my mobile, which I can text people with. Or call! Good thing I changed to 3 - FREE TEXTING. My friends have no excuse to not text me anymore (apart from J who doesn't follow the crowd). I'll meet some new peeps, and learn more techniques. Maybe I'll speak slower! Hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need to go spam some more research on Uyghurs, death penalty and capital punishment before our debates start. So nervous! So I'll be off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-3963793808653084508?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/3963793808653084508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/with-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/3963793808653084508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/3963793808653084508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/with-me.html' title='sometimes love comes around and it knocks you down.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SmKCSyR9m7I/AAAAAAAAAJs/KE4VcgtzvdU/s72-c/1T058_bella_sol.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-3776801102042004401</id><published>2009-07-15T09:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:22:51.593+08:00</updated><title type='text'>and i fly whenever you're around me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Sl04MnK1TuI/AAAAAAAAAJk/ox0CvtwjUA8/s1600-h/1R07_bella_sol.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Sl04MnK1TuI/AAAAAAAAAJk/ox0CvtwjUA8/s200/1R07_bella_sol.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358500920964763362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Was too tired to blog about yesterday's activities, so here I am catching up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday, I was hanging around with N and J (yay for letters representing names! I've been watching Gossip Girl again...). Went to N's place for lunch - t'was delicious! Watched Click while eating - I think I ate loads compared to normal, and J's consumption of food was scary...I swear he ate more than 4 plates or something. Insane person. Afterwards, we decided to walk to the uni as there were prayers going on at N's. As soon as we got out, J was like "Let's take a taxi!". To do that would mean $18, and we'd only be in the taxi for around 3 mins (it only takes 15 mins to walk), so I just stood there staring at N and J, repeating "Are you guys kidding me?" I mean - $18 can buy 6 pieces of salmon sushi at Itacho (sp? that place in Causeway). So in the end we walked. Yes, that's right. Listen to the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sane&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;person!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At HKU, J met the guy at Oliver's who looked &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exactly&lt;/span&gt; like him. It was hilarious - I couldn't stop laughing. It was so strange, looking at two of J. Well, one obviously, and another one who looks similar. J kept saying that he doesn't look like him, but he does. We got back, and I insisted on taking a picture with the two of them (since I don't have a picture with both of them - the last one was back in...year 9, and L, R and K were in the picture too...). So yeah, I was happy yesterday. J also &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"helped&lt;/span&gt;" me with my maths homework while me and N messed about on twitter and facebook. How awesome?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also managed to get some clothes as well from Zara last night, there was this massive sale, so it was easy to persuade my mum that I needed nice clothes. There were these really cute shoes that actually were my size (40, surprise surprise!), but they were too expensive. My mum said that if it was just 100 less, she'd buy them for me, but they weren't, so too bad. Going out with P tomorrow, so hopefully I'll find something around!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yeah, gotta get back to my maths homework (and try not to get distracted...)&lt;br /&gt;So I'm out again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-3776801102042004401?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/3776801102042004401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/linger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/3776801102042004401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/3776801102042004401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/linger.html' title='and i fly whenever you&apos;re around me.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Sl04MnK1TuI/AAAAAAAAAJk/ox0CvtwjUA8/s72-c/1R07_bella_sol.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-5786599754238555033</id><published>2009-07-13T21:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:26:18.436+08:00</updated><title type='text'>if you ask me if i love him, i'd lie.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Slszk3ZSVJI/AAAAAAAAAJc/iSjQUWHphEI/s1600-h/1R38_bella_sol.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Slszk3ZSVJI/AAAAAAAAAJc/iSjQUWHphEI/s200/1R38_bella_sol.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357932890125653138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Not much has physically happened lately - apart from that massive barbeque party which destroyed me. I was so worn out by the end of the day...I swear I will never invite that many people again. Let's just stick with 5 or 6 people tops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, on the more unfortunate and emotional side of things...I have no idea what's going on. I guess I'm just typing up all this to word vomit it all out and feel better  - I pray to god this helps. So in the past 3 years, I've spent one year liking (loving? although admitting this makes me feel slightly sick...) with this dork. After falling for him, I then proceeded to realise that...he's not exactly the most compatible person with me. We argue about pretty much everything, and he frustrates and hurts me a lot. But as things go, my heart doesn't listen to my brain. After "getting over him", I then proceeded to like two guys that are similar to him, in more ways than one. And then lately, I've been all flustered again...and I don't know what I'm feeling. Do I feel these things for the guy who I know now, the guy who seems a lot more mature and sweeter than the asshole that I liked 2 years ago, or am I still nuts about the boy I fell in love with a few years back? I swear my life sounds more like a soap opera than it actually is. At least, I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, I'm quite confused lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter side, I'm going to be less bored from next Monday onwards, except I'll be so busy. I'm really worried that I'm not going to have enough time to finish all my homework and all. SO MUCH MATHS TO DO. I'm still like....ages from finishing. Hopefully I'll be done by August 21st...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's all for now.&lt;br /&gt;Going to pop down to the plaza for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-5786599754238555033?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/5786599754238555033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/id-lie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/5786599754238555033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/5786599754238555033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/id-lie.html' title='if you ask me if i love him, i&apos;d lie.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Slszk3ZSVJI/AAAAAAAAAJc/iSjQUWHphEI/s72-c/1R38_bella_sol.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-7399677978571833565</id><published>2009-07-07T18:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:27:44.983+08:00</updated><title type='text'>there's just so many faces, but no one i need to know.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SlMmx9AU6UI/AAAAAAAAAJU/XFMEAgzKJb8/s1600-h/1R14_bella_sol.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SlMmx9AU6UI/AAAAAAAAAJU/XFMEAgzKJb8/s200/1R14_bella_sol.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355667021505030466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Don't you ever get the feeling that life passes too fast, and you want to just snapshot each and every moment of it? Sometimes, I'd love to record my life, as a video, a movie, and so I'd be able to look back on every great moment and think to myself - yeah, I was so happy then,such awesome memories!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, recently I've been thinking - what happens when your memories start to blur, when people you call your friends start to fade in your head...when you no longer remember what those familiar faces look like after we all leave high school? And then it hit me - we only have 2 more years, and chances are that we won't ever see each other that frequently anymore (who know if we would ever meet again? I'd like to think that we will though...). How sad is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, for now though, I'd make use of whatever time I have to make as many memories as I can. Yesterday went out for Transformers 2 with Fran, Bor, Jaking, Chris, Pak and Nik (but he didn't watch the movie, despite his obsession with Megan Fox...). Was fun catching up with friends, and I missed quite a few of them a lot. Can't wait until Friday - probably the meeting of the summer with a complete set of friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before all that, I've started to do my IB homework, and maths higher is proving to be a pain already. Managed to plough my way through synthetic division of polynomials, and I'm already dreading the long algebraic division (I think that's what the book called it...). Managed to flick through my Bio book, and the big words scare me already. Hopefully they'll become easier as I learn them properly though...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I just got bitten by a mosquito. Some random huge bite on my leg now...I truly believe that mosquitoes should be eradicated as a species. Unless they manage to discover how mosquitoes will stop biting me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's quite late now, and although I won't sleep until later, sweet dreams all.&lt;br /&gt;Loves as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-7399677978571833565?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/7399677978571833565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/love-drunk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/7399677978571833565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/7399677978571833565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/love-drunk.html' title='there&apos;s just so many faces, but no one i need to know.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SlMmx9AU6UI/AAAAAAAAAJU/XFMEAgzKJb8/s72-c/1R14_bella_sol.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-7647668739215473609</id><published>2009-07-02T22:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:38:15.070+08:00</updated><title type='text'>we'll write a song that turns off the lights.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SkzJeeKiIlI/AAAAAAAAAJI/lIEAU8Nqd5I/s1600-h/1Q55_bella_sol.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SkzJeeKiIlI/AAAAAAAAAJI/lIEAU8Nqd5I/s200/1Q55_bella_sol.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353875582367179346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Another day has gone and passed again.&lt;br /&gt;And once again, I have pretty much done nothing constructive, although managed to change my PCCW number to 3 (due to all my friends having 3...sometimes it's just cheaper following the crowd).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was actually pretty fun; I got to hang out with my homies Pak, Bor and Nik. How awesome is that? Started by hanging out in Central first, but then we soon got bored and migrated to Causeway Bay (like usual). Ate a lot at the Mango Place and Honeymoon Dessert (where Bor announced that the chairs were "too small", and how Americans would just sit on the top since their butts won't fit in...???). Also went with Pak to shop for stuff, since he needed clothes and a tracksuit (which we painfully tried to hunt down in like...a million stores...). Puma store finally saved the day, which was good. Was an awesome day though, really missed Nik and Bor and Pak during my stay in Thailand, so it was good to see them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going out again tomorrow, with Fran, Bor, Nik, Chris, Pak and Kwanko. Watching Transformers 2, then dinner. Hopefully it's good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, for you peeps out there who are coming to my random barbeque party, here are the things that I have so &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DO NOT BRING THESE THINGS&lt;/span&gt;. Thank yous.&lt;br /&gt;- Soft drinks, orange juice, fruit punch&lt;br /&gt;- Marshmallows&lt;br /&gt;- Chips&lt;br /&gt;- Meat (you can bring some if you want, but no pork, thanks)&lt;br /&gt;- Digestives (Plain Chocolate ones for smores!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It'd be great if any of you can bring anything that would amuse 11 people. Card games are fine as long as all 11 of us can be involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's pretty much it for today, and it's getting late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-7647668739215473609?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/7647668739215473609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-catch-donnie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/7647668739215473609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/7647668739215473609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-catch-donnie.html' title='we&apos;ll write a song that turns off the lights.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SkzJeeKiIlI/AAAAAAAAAJI/lIEAU8Nqd5I/s72-c/1Q55_bella_sol.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-5437183784311643156</id><published>2009-07-01T20:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:41:37.214+08:00</updated><title type='text'>and someday you will get back everything you gave me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SktW4zaPkEI/AAAAAAAAAIw/Qq2gmIvYgRM/s1600-h/ug3ezz72d_1004.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SktW4zaPkEI/AAAAAAAAAIw/Qq2gmIvYgRM/s200/ug3ezz72d_1004.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353468115932909634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Wow I've been updating quite often lately - many thanks to the lack of excitement that the summer holidays provides. Nothing really exciting happens at home, although today marks the first day of July. My mum finally got back home today from Beijing - which is awesome, because she's a lot more responsible than my Dad, who's absolutely clueless about everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as usual (apart from piano lesson in the morning and picking my Mum up from the airport), I've been sitting at the computer and having a marathon of TV series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skins. I think I'm going to stop at Season 2 (End of first generation). To &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;be really honest, I think I'm really watching this for the a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;mazing, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;amazing&lt;/span&gt; Nicholas Hoult, except my favourites are quite weird.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Skins:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favourite Guy: Tony (Nicholas Hoult)&lt;br /&gt;Favourite Girl: Cassie&lt;br /&gt;Favourite Couple: Jal &amp;amp; Chris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gossip Girl: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(What normally happens with my favourites...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Favourite Guy: Chuck&lt;br /&gt;Favourite Girl: Blair&lt;br /&gt;Favourite Couple: Chuck &amp;amp; Blair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So favourite couple in Skins, Jal &amp;amp; Chris, have really got me thinking. The fact that Chris was dying from a disease, and wanted Jal to move in, and all that "take ahold of what you have before it's too late" kind of thing. I think it's very sweet, especially when Chris tells Jal that she's the only one that "gives a shit" about him, and how he's only motivated to try hard, to not mess up because of her. It truly touched me, and I think it's really sad how it seems like the sweetest couples, the less time they seem to have together. I wonder if I'd ever &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;meet someone like that, if he'd think of me as the reason for trying, as his reason to live. Maybe that's wishful thinking, but it's just so sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough for my wall of text/rant.&lt;br /&gt;I'm out homies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-5437183784311643156?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/5437183784311643156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/wont-even-start.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/5437183784311643156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/5437183784311643156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/07/wont-even-start.html' title='and someday you will get back everything you gave me.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SktW4zaPkEI/AAAAAAAAAIw/Qq2gmIvYgRM/s72-c/ug3ezz72d_1004.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-7458145020042688179</id><published>2009-06-30T22:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:45:10.957+08:00</updated><title type='text'>couldn't make you see it that i loved you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Skoo76tVjbI/AAAAAAAAAIo/m9ByAQ-f_2g/s1600-h/a8792.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Skoo76tVjbI/AAAAAAAAAIo/m9ByAQ-f_2g/s200/a8792.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353136116920061362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Thanks to the insane amount of time we get for the summer, I'm updating my blog regularly.&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I should be happy, shouldn't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite it being the greatest season for kids my age, especially with the holidays and lack of school work needed to be done, I'm getting bored out of my mind. There just isn't really much to do at home, and friends don't even live close to my place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the brighter side of things, I went out today for the first time in ages. I've also calculated, and in the past 7 days I've managed to:&lt;br /&gt;- Visit a different country (Thailand, for my TEFL trip for community service)&lt;br /&gt;- Teach children English&lt;br /&gt;- Go biking&lt;br /&gt;- Go tubing (rubber rings, float down a river sort of thing)&lt;br /&gt;- Go shopping&lt;br /&gt;- Read 6 books (How to be Good, Change of Heart, Elves of Cintra, Swimsuit, The Last Summer (of You and Me), A Spot of Bother)&lt;br /&gt;- Finish a complete season of Skins (TV series)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am completely and utterly in love with Nicholas Hoult. He is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;amazing &lt;/span&gt;in Skins. Absolutely adore his portrayal of Tony Stonem. He's an evil, calculating, manipulative jerk, but somehow, I adore his character the most. I always seem to like the evil one of them all (e.g Chuck Bass in Gossip Girl, but he really is adorable with Blair...). Managed to finish the whole of season 1, hopefully going to finish season 2 soon. This is possibly one of the only TV series where I don't have a favourite male/female character who are a couple. I adore the Sid/Cassie couple, but I believe Sid is utterly useless. Tony, on the other hand, is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the more realistic part of my life. Went out with Fran today, despite my Dad not leaving me any money. I now owe my bff some money. Went out for sushi - totally annoyed that the promo is off if you surpass 5 pieces of sushi...we normally have 10 each. Went around and kind of window-shopped, and walked all the way from Causeway Bay to Admiralty (there's a first!). After swearing that I will try and avoid sweet foods this summer, I then intelligently went and bought two Mrs.Fields' cookies. How intelligent was that? Very, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, that's all for now. Piano lesson tomorrow morning, and gotta go pick up Mum from airport.&lt;br /&gt;Long day ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-7458145020042688179?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/7458145020042688179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/06/hysteric.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/7458145020042688179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/7458145020042688179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/06/hysteric.html' title='couldn&apos;t make you see it that i loved you...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Skoo76tVjbI/AAAAAAAAAIo/m9ByAQ-f_2g/s72-c/a8792.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-7093992824713721952</id><published>2009-06-27T15:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:56:39.437+08:00</updated><title type='text'>when starlight falls, my love will guide you home.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SkXINegP1tI/AAAAAAAAAIg/ABfWpdxeJS8/s1600-h/1O53_bella_sol.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SkXINegP1tI/AAAAAAAAAIg/ABfWpdxeJS8/s200/1O53_bella_sol.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351903866051876562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm back from THAILAND!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's good to be back in 852, past 5 days have been quite eventful for me. It was painful, being in a different country with a bunch of people from a different social group than myself. I found that I was the one being left out quite a lot, but the activities there were great. The teaching was definitely an eye-opener for me, as I never really understood how much energy is needed to teach primary kids, and also I never understood how flexible teachers had to make their teaching plans for a completely random class. Maybe that's why first lessons at school every year are so utterly useless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY ONE - Hello, Chiang Rai/Chiang Mai!&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;First day away from HK. Woke up at around 5 to get my butt to the airport at 6. Missed my BFFs like mad as I saw everyone else huddle in and chat excitedly. For me, it didn't feel like the beginning, but rather...the end. Ironically, I also had to sit next to the teachers only during the flight, finished a whole book (1/3 that I brought - How to Be Good by Nick Hornby) from HK to Bangkok. Started reading Change of Heart by Jodi Picoult, but it was really quite depressing so I decided to stop. Spent around 3 hours at Bangkok Airport, which was pretty tiresome. Ragini and Minky were learning the Hoedown Throwdown, and I pretty much knew half of the dance moves by then. We then arrived at Maekok River Resort (the place where we stayed) in the evening, and after getting our luggages up to our dorms (I shared a room with the Yr12s - Juli and Hilary. Yes, the Yr11s completely abandoned me), we played a round or two of volleyball. Thumb got bruised really badly (thank god it's okay now, swollen thumbs look &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; weird...). Dinner was okay, not the best Thai food I've ever had, but decent. Games were not so bad. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY TWO - Does anyone know how to teach?&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The timetable at the resort required us to wake up at 7 each morning, breakfast at 7:30, teaching starts at 9. First day of teaching, and we had to start with primary 1 kids, who unfortunately didn't understand a single word of english. "Hello, my name is Anna. What is your name?" only recieved blank stares. Our teaching group - me, Kamil and Anaita, were in a panic. First time we teach, and it seemed to start with failure. Kam was intent on following our original teaching plan of teaching "family", but how could we do so when the kids didn't even understand a single word we were saying? Instead we played games with them (like freeze jog, islands), and the kids seemed to enjoy themselves. Maybe we couldn't teach them much, but the least we could do was the make them start to look forwards to english lessons, right? The next two classes were much better, slightly older too, and we taught basically colours and simpler stuff than family. In the afternoon, we went biking near the resort, which was pretty nice. Reminded me loads of biketastic, although the food and the hotels during that trip were amazing. Managed to not fall, although I did get off my bike to walk up a hill...but shh, you didn't hear that from me. We had field games at night, which was pretty fun, and I enjoyed it quite a lot...although it would've been tons better if Fran,Bor or Nik were there to share it with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY THREE - Hey! I'm starting to get the hang of this!&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Teaching was a lot easier on this day, as the kids were older (P4, P5?), and understood a lot of the basic English. We actually felt that we were teaching them something, although we played loads of games with them too. They absolutely loved "What's the time, Mr.Wolf?" and Freeze-jog. Teaching became a lot easier, and we were a lot less clueless than the previous day. We had tons of free time though, and rather than play uno or whatever with them, I found a nice comfy spot outside our dorm. Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was quiet, nice and cool. Managed to finish A Spot of Bother by Mark Haddon. It was quite amusing, especially how the guy was turning insane. Reminded myself of me in a way. But who needs friends when you have books? Although Dai Sijie is a total overrated writer, especially with "Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress" being a "World Literature Book", the point of escaping from reality through books was a valid one I guess. We went to the Golden Buddha, and a temple in the afternoon after team games (which was fun - our group completed a lot of tasks really quickly, and we managed to get the most time, although we didn't win...). I roamed around the temple myself, and by this time, I pretty much was getting used to being alone. We did the confidence course afterwards, and I slipped quite easily. But I was glad that I didn't do that much. Later on dunked into the swimming pool, and played a mutated version of volleyball in water. Afterwards, managed to talk to Fran and Bor (borrowed Hilary's laptop for 5 mins - I was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; desperate to talk to them), and felt like crap afterwards. Wrote a note to self, reminding myself to bring a laptop for November.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY FOUR - The art of bargaining.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Day four was undoubtedly the best teaching day. Our 2nd class were so hyper, and danced a lot, and the three of us were really happy teaching (although dead tired by the end of the teaching day). Afternoon, we learnt lessons that other groups prepared for us: e.g. Our group taught basic language skills, Group 2 taught Chinese and Group 3 taught the Hoedown Throwdown dance. By this time, I knew all the moves and all the lyrics to Miley Cyrus' Hoedown Throwdown. I was crying/dying inside. Afterwards we went tubing, which was basically floating on the river on a rubber ring. It was fun, and Q (one of the leaders) dunked me in. T'was hilarious. I also managed to finish Change of Heart by Jodi Picoult in the afternoon. Night we went to the Chiang Rai Night Bazaar, and amazingly, I didn't buy much, although I was really tempted. A lot of the things that I saw were really similar to Chinese things, so I didn't bother. It also opened my eyes to how similar Asian cultures are - a lot of Thai things were similar to Chinese and Indian things. Got back to the resort quite late - after a shower, I just slept (while the other people were making a racket. Thank god I shared a room with Hilary and Juli).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY FIVE - Home sweet home.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I was surprised to find that I was sad to leave, but I guess the part that misses home overturned my will to stay in Thailand. We taught one big class in a huge group of 9 (Me, Kam, Lauren, Nina, Nicole, Juli, Matt, Anaita, Hilary) and just basically played games with them. Afterwards we went to the school that WIS helped out a lot with, both with teaching and building. It was pretty amazing to see how students have built a whole nursery or stage before. Can't wait until it's our turn to make our mark. Afterwards it was just driving to Chiang Rai airport to get back to Hong Kong. Pretty dull, and I somehow ended up next to teachers again. But all was well as I just read the whole way - bought Swimsuit by James Patterson.It was really good, and I managed to finish it in one airplane ride (around 2 hours?). I hate myself for reading fast sometimes. And I found this really nice fragrance - Love from New York by DKNY, which I really want now, but apparently it's not sold. So annoyed! Must check Sasa tomorrow, and if there isn't any there, I'll see if it's possible for Nik to buy it for me, and i'll pay him back :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good to be back, and a lot of catching up to do with people.&lt;br /&gt;Missed y'all loads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-7093992824713721952?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/7093992824713721952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/06/good-girls-go-bad.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/7093992824713721952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/7093992824713721952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/06/good-girls-go-bad.html' title='when starlight falls, my love will guide you home.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SkXINegP1tI/AAAAAAAAAIg/ABfWpdxeJS8/s72-c/1O53_bella_sol.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-6009020645676005956</id><published>2009-06-10T23:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T21:58:13.950+08:00</updated><title type='text'>waist-deep in thought because when i think of you, i don't feel so alone.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Si_NPNrRcDI/AAAAAAAAAH0/4Rgixvg0qI0/s1600-h/21oye5y.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Si_NPNrRcDI/AAAAAAAAAH0/4Rgixvg0qI0/s200/21oye5y.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345716943964958770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you walk into an open sewer and die."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exams are finally over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy that these stupid exams are over. No more stress! Hello summer! And then I find out that we have to spend a load of money on buying new textbooks, and having summer homework. But in a weird kind of way, I'm glad that I get to do work during the summer, and not let my brain rest too much and become rusty.Insane? Most definitely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here comes the start of my summer holidays! Tons of things to get through; Thailand TEFL Community Service Trip, Debate programs, SAT courses...how fun! And I finally don't need to wear that ugly school uniform of ours (...actually it isn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; bad, especially compared to other schools'). But after 5 years of wearing the same thing day after day, I'm really looking forwards to wearing casual to school. 2 more months and I get to feel special!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing special happening lately though...apart from partying, sleepovers and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;PIE COMING OVER ON FRIDAY. How fun! She hasn't been over since....years ago.&lt;br /&gt;Okay. Maybe months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I totally need to catch up with movies. Angels and Demons (...can't possibly beat the book though), Star Trek (DYING to watch it) etc. Movie spree on Saturday with my bffs Pie, Bor and Niknik. Can't wait. Heard Star Trek was amazing and all. Can't believe I had to wait for so long. I was originally planning to watch it as soon as it came out, but thanks to exams, that didn't really happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's late.&lt;br /&gt;I'm babbling.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe another update after something exciting happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves.&lt;br /&gt;Anna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-6009020645676005956?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/6009020645676005956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/06/all-i-want-is-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/6009020645676005956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/6009020645676005956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/06/all-i-want-is-you.html' title='waist-deep in thought because when i think of you, i don&apos;t feel so alone.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/Si_NPNrRcDI/AAAAAAAAAH0/4Rgixvg0qI0/s72-c/21oye5y.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-2332370759209090390</id><published>2009-06-07T12:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T22:00:44.447+08:00</updated><title type='text'>and everytime, you notice me by holding me close and saying sweet things.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SitDFeazl-I/AAAAAAAAAHk/yHXIu8xXQKA/s1600-h/dom9lt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SitDFeazl-I/AAAAAAAAAHk/yHXIu8xXQKA/s200/dom9lt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344439144149129186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Love is giving someone the power to break your heart and trusting them not to."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I've been crying over little things lately.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's hormones, or maybe it's the stress. Or maybe it the two combined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But every little word that someone says to me (or maybe what they &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; say to me...), I tend to read between the non-existent lines, convinced that I somehow messed things up. Well, I did, but not to that extent. At least, I hope not. '&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yeah.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad all these exams are over soon enough. 3 more days and I can relax. Maybe by then, my feelings won't be on this emotional rollercoaster. One heck of a ride to be honest. Makes me feel like crap most of the time too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note, I finally got that external hard-drive that I wanted for ages. Hello extra 320 GB of space! So happy. And guys, a little help.What should I waste my summer on?  - Supernatural, The Tudors, Smallville, One Tree Hill, House? Definitely going to catch up with Grey's, Heroes and Gossip Girl. Give me a little shout on the tagboard. Oh, and Salleh's giving me anime, so there's that too. Maybe I have enough on my plate. I'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think I should try and attempt to write things again - was planning on entering some short-story competition this year, but didn't have the time to try. Maybe next year I guess?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for the time being, I should try and revise. Business is so boring in comparison to other subjects though - 100% dreading the stupid exam. Although, I'm actually quite relieved that all my hardest exams are over. Hope I did well on them, praying that I get relatively good grades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now.&lt;br /&gt;loves.&lt;br /&gt;anna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-2332370759209090390?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/2332370759209090390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/06/alive.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/2332370759209090390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/2332370759209090390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/06/alive.html' title='and everytime, you notice me by holding me close and saying sweet things.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SitDFeazl-I/AAAAAAAAAHk/yHXIu8xXQKA/s72-c/dom9lt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-4335682835033541942</id><published>2009-06-05T11:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T22:02:44.503+08:00</updated><title type='text'>if i could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass me by?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SiiRJiBPwXI/AAAAAAAAAHA/KUTghDvuU_8/s1600-h/0044dr9r.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343680550811976050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 100px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 100px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SiiRJiBPwXI/AAAAAAAAAHA/KUTghDvuU_8/s200/0044dr9r.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;i miss you a little, i guess you could say a little too much, a little too often, and a little more each and every day.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;So it's been ages since I last updated...but I guess we could say that I've been quite busy :P &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt; lot has happened lately, and I guess I can't possibly talk about them all. So where to begin?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm finally 16 (and yes, one year older). I didn't have the luck to anticipate my birthday since it was in the middle of exams, but I was really lucky to have 3 great friends who bothered to skip a day of revision to make me a happy idiot. Got to love Pie, Bor and Nik. Crazy crazy people, but who am I to talk? Pie bought me a pretty bag (and I found out afterwards that it was quite expensive...so I felt a bit guilty about that...), and apparently Nik's buying me a pig. How exciting is that? Pigs are so cute (-totally serious face-).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;Exams. Tough times for me, but I'm coping. Although for some of my exams, I didn't feel like I revised quite enough, I think I'll manage, and it's a lesson well learnt. Next time when I sit another one of these, I'm going into the exam hall well prepared weeks in advance! At least, I hope so. 2 more to go, Business Studies and Science MC, but those I think I will handle quite well. Hopefully my results won't be bad, and I'll have a reason to celebrate in August!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;As school and exams draw to a close, I can just almost taste summer already; a few more days of hard work and I'll be free. Community service in Thailand awaits, as well as debate programs and SAT prep classes. And of course, more time to hang around with my peeps - barbeques, movies, hanging around in general. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;loves as always.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;anna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-4335682835033541942?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/4335682835033541942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/06/red-lights.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/4335682835033541942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/4335682835033541942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/06/red-lights.html' title='if i could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass me by?'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SiiRJiBPwXI/AAAAAAAAAHA/KUTghDvuU_8/s72-c/0044dr9r.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-4423566336830249342</id><published>2009-02-14T11:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T22:03:49.715+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i have to find a way to show you i care.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SZY9X_PQbwI/AAAAAAAAAGg/S5zClzCoLWM/s1600-h/3827678.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 96px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SZY9X_PQbwI/AAAAAAAAAGg/S5zClzCoLWM/s200/3827678.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302493093597048578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;RULES:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1 Put your iTunes, Windows Media Player, etc. on shuffle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2 For each question, press the next button to get your answer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3 YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;4 Tag 15 friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 Everyone tagged has to do the same thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;6 Have Fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1 If someone says 'Are you okay' you say?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My Paper Heart (All American Rejects)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2 How would you describe yourself?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wish We Were Older [Metro Station]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3 What do you like in a guy/girl?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Potential Breakup Song (Aly &amp;amp; AJ)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;4 How do you feel today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Bad Influence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5 What is your life's purpose?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;To be where there's life (Oasis)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;6 What's your motto?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hello (Beyonce)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;7 What do your friends think of you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Broken-Hearted Girl (Beyonce)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;8 What do your parents think of you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Move On (JET)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;9 What do you think about very often?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Electropop (Jupiter Rising)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;10 What is 2+2?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Always be my Baby (Mariah Carey)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;11 what do you think of your best friend?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Change (T-Pain)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;12 What is your life story?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Rescue Me (Hawthorne Heights)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;13 What do you want to be when you grow up?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mad as Rabbits (Panic at the Disco)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;14 What do you think when you see the person you like?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ego (Beyonce)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;15 What will you dance to at your wedding?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Champagne (Sugarcult)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;16 What will they play at your funeral?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I Wanna be That Girl (Leona Lewis)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;17 What is your hobby/interest?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wasted (Cartel)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;18 What is your biggest fear?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is My Now (Jordin Sparks)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;19 What is your biggest secret?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Don't Speak Liar (We the Kings)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;20 What do you want right now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Again Again (Lady Gaga)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;21 What do you think of your friends?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Flashing Lights (Kayne West)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;22 What will you post this as?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Seventeen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-4423566336830249342?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/4423566336830249342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/02/seventeen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/4423566336830249342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/4423566336830249342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/02/seventeen.html' title='i have to find a way to show you i care.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SZY9X_PQbwI/AAAAAAAAAGg/S5zClzCoLWM/s72-c/3827678.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-6700252622945705245</id><published>2009-02-14T00:10:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T22:04:15.284+08:00</updated><title type='text'>everytime we touch, i get this feeling...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SZWdCzJDF8I/AAAAAAAAAGY/wpcryLgakTw/s1600-h/ac1ba877c60be839e1f1e7e8fc405926.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 155px; height: 206px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SZWdCzJDF8I/AAAAAAAAAGY/wpcryLgakTw/s200/ac1ba877c60be839e1f1e7e8fc405926.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302316807712085954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;HAPPY VALENTINES EVERYONE! ♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;First of all, some shouts to my loves:&lt;br /&gt;- Fran&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;- Baggio/Garbage Bag/Captain French&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;- Sallieeee&lt;br /&gt;- Pakk&lt;br /&gt;- Bor&lt;br /&gt;- Bennett&lt;br /&gt;- Crystal&lt;br /&gt;- Becca&lt;br /&gt;- Nik&lt;br /&gt;- Lillio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week has been a hectic one.&lt;br /&gt;Haven't updated in ages due to the lack of time.&lt;br /&gt;Chinese debate, Theory Exam last week. Loads and loads of work due too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sorry about that. Annnnyways.&lt;br /&gt;How ironic that my first free saturday in...ages (one and a half years?) is valentines day.&lt;br /&gt;Going out to celebrate tomorrow afternoon, but dreading the tons of couples that I will have to endure on the streets.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah great. I shall be the rebel and hang out on the streets single :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the fact that I don't actually have a...proper date, I'm still enjoying the fact that everyone is celebrating Valentines Day. Walking on the streets, looking at each couple. I don't know why, but somehow, when I look at people I find interesting, I start to speculate about their stories, what their life can really be. Of course, I only do that when I'm bored, lonely and sad (or, hey look. I have no one to observe AND I'm bored. Let's blog!). Some of my friends know how I can manage to..."filter" out people I don't particularly look out for. I sometimes don't notice a person until they wave their hands right in front of my face. It makes me seem distant sometimes, but really, I just don't notice them. But some people, they really stand out. Maybe because of their clothes, posture, attitudes....aura?&lt;br /&gt;What makes a person distinct and special?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 12:30. I woke up at 6:30 this morning. Well. Yesterday morning.&lt;br /&gt;I make no sense.&lt;br /&gt;This is how my train of thought operates when I am slightly messed up due to fatigue.&lt;br /&gt;Sweet dreams all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-6700252622945705245?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/6700252622945705245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/02/secret-valentine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/6700252622945705245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/6700252622945705245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/02/secret-valentine.html' title='everytime we touch, i get this feeling...'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SZWdCzJDF8I/AAAAAAAAAGY/wpcryLgakTw/s72-c/ac1ba877c60be839e1f1e7e8fc405926.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-2361049316656884557</id><published>2009-01-30T19:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T22:05:00.538+08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't want to fly if you're still on the ground.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYLoPkmR9rI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ryakS7Mqp6g/s1600-h/133824661.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 100px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYLoPkmR9rI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ryakS7Mqp6g/s200/133824661.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297051465961043634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A favourite quote of mine goes something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;                  Better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, penny for your thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;Is it really better to have known love and lost it, than to have never loved at all? Knowing the feeling of love, and then having it wrenched from you versus living ignorantly onwards?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.&lt;br /&gt;I watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button today with a few friends at the cinema, and yes. Brad Pitt looks horrible as an old man, and absolutely adorable on a motorbike. But what really struck me during the movie was his relationship with Daisy (Cate Blanchett). Their love was one full of destiny and fate, and it was basically amazing watching an old man who looked like he was in his seventies fall in love with a girl of around ten.&lt;br /&gt;It looked weird, but it was really sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I loved the movie. I shed a few tears near the end. Continuing from the quote, I think the latter half of the movie really fit. Daisy, was the one to have loved and lost - she remembers the love she feels for Benjamin Button, and the feeling of leaving it behind. Benjamin, on the other hand, forgets everything, forgets who Daisy is, and just continues to lose his years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So whose position would you rather be in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Daisy doesn't regret loving Benjamin. I doubt anyone in her position would. But considering the pain, and the disappointment that she goes through, and then finding out that he barely remembers her is one of the factors that led me to shed tears. In terms of the relationship, I believe that Benjamin, although he made the initial sacrifice, was spared the heartbreak that Daisy goes through. It really depends on your point of view I guess, to decide who is better off in the end, but I think ultimately, both of them are glad to have gone through the process of loving each other (despite Benjamin's later on short-term-memory).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the movie was awesome, and it really made me think. On the other hand, one of my friends called it:"slightly boring", and said it was too long.&lt;br /&gt;It is longer than your average movie, but I think it was really worth it.&lt;br /&gt;And Brad Pitt sailing without a shirt on. That's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;has&lt;/span&gt; to earn him bonus points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-2361049316656884557?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/2361049316656884557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/01/moon-crying.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/2361049316656884557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/2361049316656884557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/01/moon-crying.html' title='don&apos;t want to fly if you&apos;re still on the ground.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYLoPkmR9rI/AAAAAAAAAFk/ryakS7Mqp6g/s72-c/133824661.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4496838907455562649.post-3243043394052365280</id><published>2009-01-29T23:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T22:07:04.761+08:00</updated><title type='text'>but drenched in vanilla twilight, i'll sit on the front porch all night.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYHQ-PIXybI/AAAAAAAAAFM/52qiAa0G8FE/s1600-h/0028es7w.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 96px; height: 96px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYHQ-PIXybI/AAAAAAAAAFM/52qiAa0G8FE/s200/0028es7w.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296744404396526002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This is what happens to bored people.&lt;br /&gt;Bored people like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike any other blogs, where are there for a cause...this...unfortunately, has no cause.&lt;br /&gt;It's just a way of self-satisfaction for an ordinary high school student who has nothing better to do with her time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although some would argue against "ordinary". More like insane madwoman.&lt;br /&gt;But that's a story for later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.&lt;br /&gt;Have fun reading this. Don't expect much.&lt;br /&gt;I'll probably just blog my thoughts, all the unfairness in the world, and complain about homework.&lt;br /&gt;You know. Like everyone else who blogs for a cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4496838907455562649-3243043394052365280?l=lovesforbanana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/feeds/3243043394052365280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/01/paranoia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/3243043394052365280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4496838907455562649/posts/default/3243043394052365280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lovesforbanana.blogspot.com/2009/01/paranoia.html' title='but drenched in vanilla twilight, i&apos;ll sit on the front porch all night.'/><author><name>Anna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08400668508764995572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYG5-TM720I/AAAAAAAAAEM/16et-jBzqy4/S220/054E_bella_sol.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1X5fKbuWcV0/SYHQ-PIXybI/AAAAAAAAAFM/52qiAa0G8FE/s72-c/0028es7w.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
