<?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-3665383</id><updated>2011-04-21T23:59:13.764-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I've got something to say...</title><subtitle type='html'>...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>52</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-94290385</id><published>2003-05-13T18:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-13T18:02:07.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I think I'm going to abandon blogspot.  I'm not sure if this is a permanent move, but we'll see.  I started a new online journal &lt;a href="http://www.upsaid.com/september/"&gt;&lt;b&gt;here&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-94290385?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/94290385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/94290385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94290385' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-94156249</id><published>2003-05-11T13:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-05-13T17:59:18.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm back!  I tried to write something last week but my stupid computer crashed.  I think I wrote something about the Leafs and how sad I was that they were out of the playoffs.  And then I wrote something about the Canucks and how I would love to see their asses get kicked by the Wild.  I don't know why, but I just hate the Canucks.  I don't hate them as a team, maybe just Bertuzzi.  He's the biggest goon next to Tucker, but Tucker is a Leaf so I don't really mind him, hee hee.  Maybe it's just jealousy because I admit it, they are a better team than the Leafs, but we have a better goalie, so HA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished my exams on May 1st, and I hope I passed all my exams cuz I don't want to repeat 3rd Year.  But I'm really worried I failed Reactions because I know I didn't get one question right on the exam.  Oh well, at least I *know* that I wouldn't be the only one repeating the course if I do fail the course.  And I need a freakin' job.  I guess I could go back to my job last summer, but I need something that is related to my program.  I still need my 600 hrs or I don't graduate.  I had an interview the day after my last exam and I wasn't prepared at all.  I expected them to ask me questions like "Why should we hire you" or "What do you have to offer to our company" or "Where do you see yourself 5 years from now?"  But nooooo.... They asked me stupid technical and environmental questions.  Grrrrr....  They asked about the Ecoli virus, but I couldn't remember the stupid name, so I just sat there with this dumb look on my face.  I felt like crying right after.  I've never been so humiliated in an interview before.  I hope they weren't laughing at me when I left.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-94156249?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/94156249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/94156249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_05_01_archive.html#94156249' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-90821624</id><published>2003-03-16T17:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-16T17:55:06.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's been a while since I last updated, but nothing really new or exciting has been happening.  I just feel an itch to write now to whine/complain vent about Jeff.  I fucking hate that guy.  How would you feel if someone close to you betrayed you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was willing to let go some of the annoying things that he does but last week he crossed a line that should never be crossed --lying to me.  Ayesha and I both asked him for solutions for the Separations problem sets.  He told us that no, he didn't have them.  Well, guess what?  He did, and he approached Ramona days before and gave her the solutions and told her not to tell anyone.  What's with the favouritism, Jeff?  I understand that it is not your obligation to give us the solutions, and if you feel that you should keep it to yourself because you got them from your "source", then I'll let you be.  But no!  You fucking lied to me and Ayesha.  Fuck, whenever you ask me for my answers I always give them to you!  And the solutions are not even your own work!  If you want to stay on top of the class, then start going to class and stop copying someone else's work WITHOUT understanding it.  Do you know why Irene's marks are one of the best in class?  Because she is not selfish -- she helps people and it gives her pleasure knowing that she has helped one of us understand the materials and therefore learn!!!  She doesn't care if that's going to bring up the average, she doesn't have to worry because no matter what, she's still one of the smartest in class.  She doesn't wish that someone will fail the exam, because that's not in her nature, she doesn't step on toes so as to make herself stay on top.  You, Jeff, on the other hand, is the complete opposite of her.  You are a deceiving, lying, stupid, lazy person.  You make sure everything is at your advantage (which is understandable) but you are not afraid to use people.  You despise people who are no use to you, and you hate people in our class who are arrogant and know-it-all.  Well, guess what?  I guess you must hate yourself because you are the most arrogant and most know-it-all person I know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had issues with you since first year, but I always kept it to myself because I don't want to ruffle your feathers.  But guess what?  I am not taking any of your shit anymore!  This hatred started when we were preparing for your stupid Dialysis Lab.  What kind of a supervisor are you?  We cared more about your lab and we weren't even the ones writing it.  Remember when we divided the pre-lab questions?  All 3 of us (Ayesha, Ramona, and me) spent a whole Saturday afternoon/night doing the questions.  I was even doing it Monday night and I finally sent you my answers at 10PM, and the next morning at around 10 when we met to do the PFD, you gave me the answers you got from another group.  Well, when I was worrying the night before whether I would be able to give you my answers on time, did you have the courtesy to tell me not to worry anymore because you already got the answers from someone else?  NO!  You fucking wasted our time, and you know what?  Your results were screwed up but I could have fixed it but I just didn't feel sorry for you because you fucking didn't know what you were doing.  If you knew your material then you would've noticed and would've known what to do with the fucked up absorbance and transmittance that we were getting.  I knew they were fucked up but I didn't care because you didn't care from the beginning.  You only started to care when you were writing the report but I guess that was too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you don't realize just how many people do not really like you.  I feel sorry for you because of that, but everytime you do something selfish, all that pity disappears and instead replaced by hatred because I can't believe such a self-centred person exists in this world.  And even though you get people to like you by giving them solutions or buying them expensive gifts, I know there's always a motive behind it.  You never act out of sheer generosity, you always expect something in return.  And you may not be smart school-wise, you are a fucking smart person having used people without them even knowing it.  I hope one day they will catch on and realize that you are not what you appear to be!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-90821624?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/90821624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/90821624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#90821624' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-89964422</id><published>2003-03-01T14:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-03-01T14:43:11.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Touch me in the morning... then just walk away... we don't have tomorrow... but we had yesterday...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That song has been stuck in my head since Tuesday, ever since Ashley sang it on American Idol.  I have to agree with most of the judges when they sort of insulted Ashley, but the way the raved about Corey Clark... c'mon.. I thought Ashley sang way better!  Ugh, I can't stand that guy.  Maybe because he looks like this guy I used to work with, Sanj.  Sooo annoying!  The hair, the smile, so annoying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I am rooting for CHIP DAYS.  He is so gorgeous!  I am so glad he got picked for the Wild Card, although I was a little bit disappointed when HADAS didn't.  It's too bad I can't vote since I live in Canada, but I heard we're going to have a Canadian Idol.  Errr, okaaay.  Let's just see how that would turn out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yes, I'm so addicted to American Idol.  Like yesterday, I was supposed to finish my Materials assignment, and I found myself reading the AI message boards instead --- for 2 hours!  I stayed at school for 2 hours reading a stupid message board!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to cut this entry short because I have to start my pre-lab and I can't do it tonight since I'm going out with G and friends.  Ack, I don't really feel like going anywhere because I need to catch up on my sleep.  I'm so glad midterms are over.  Well, I still have 2 to go towards the end of the month, but I don't want to worry about them yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-89964422?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/89964422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/89964422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_03_01_archive.html#89964422' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-89320778</id><published>2003-02-18T14:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-18T14:02:43.206-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Those damn cults!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 3 years ago I got involved in this business group, sort of like Am-way.  Wait, it was Am-way, but it is now the "internet" version.  I was depressed about my job situation and Jordan approached me and offered me this business opportunity.  I was so excited.  I felt that it was my salvation.  I went to the weekly meetings with eagerness and I fearlessly approached people to introduce them to this opportunity.  To make the long story short, I quickly realized that it was all a big scam and I got out of it before it ruined my reputation.  My friends tried to warn me and fortunately, I listened to them.  I guess that experience taught me to be suspicious if anything appears unnatural.  I also learned not to let people manipulate me.  Oh gawd, all the time I was in the business, I felt like being pushed around by my "upline" but I was too scared to say anything because I wanted to impress them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What made me remember this awful experience?  Well, I was at Tim Horton's last night with Sarah.  She was also familiar with the business because she was one of my victims.  What these people do is they invite a potential recruit to a coffee shop, to discuss their "hopes and dreams."  We couldn't help overhearing them, because the same tactic was used on us when we had the interview/meeting.  The words the guy used to lure his potential victim were all to familiar.  We were trying hard not to laugh when the guy brought up familiar names associated with the business.  We could've been really nasty and mean by approaching the other guy and warning him not to get involved in this scam, but I thought it was better if he finds that out himself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-89320778?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/89320778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/89320778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89320778' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-89227639</id><published>2003-02-17T02:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-17T02:36:15.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Whee!  (again)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay for reading week!  I thought this much deserved break would never come.  Last week was pure hell and now it was just a bad dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-89227639?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/89227639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/89227639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89227639' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-88666678</id><published>2003-02-06T16:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-06T16:03:38.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Whee!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not upset anymore.  I found another professor to supervise my thesis.  SB is so nice!  I was really interested in one of the projects so he was willing to reserve it for me until I have seen all the other profs, but I told him right away that it was what I really wanted.  So, yay!  I don't have to worry about my thesis anymore.. until September, when we start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turned out that BM isn't sure if he's staying with the department, so that's why he is not taking any students.  Ha!  I guess Jeff has to find another prof.  What ticked me off is that he hated SB when we had him for Stats last term, and now he wants to ask him.  Argggh.... What the fuck?  He just wants to ask because SB does not care about your marks as long as you show interest in his work.  And Jeff hates him!  He was like, "Why would you want to ask (SB)?"  Well, SB just so happens to be a very nice prof and all he wants is for his students to enjoy working on their thesis projects.  I hope for SB's sake that he turns Jeff down because Jeff is just going to take advantage of him and talk behind his back and complain what a stupid prof he is.  Jeff gets on my nerves sometimes.  Like today.  He's in my lab group and this morning he was so unprepared for the lab.  And he was acting like he knew what he was doing.  I could tell that he was just asking questions to make himself sound smart, but ugh!  The answers were so obvious had he done the pre-lab.  I know he's my friend and he does give me solutions to some problem sets, but he's so lazy!  I don't know where he gets all the solutions but it just annoys me how he acts so smart and all when he doesn't even come to class.  And I don't like his work ethic.  Last week he was the supervisor of our lab and he got the results of the group who did the same lab a week before us, and he was freaking out because we weren't getting the same results.  I was the analyst and I knew for a fact that we were doing everything correctly.  I swear, I'm so glad Ayesha and Mona are in our group.  They make labs fun and bearable.  And Ayesha's working with SB for her thesis, too!  We're gonna have a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a call from Kim today.  She had a fight with her bf and it's just so sad because I thought they are the perfect couple.  I can't, for the life of me, imagine how a couple so perfect be so unhappy.  Well, I hope this doesn't last long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-88666678?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/88666678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/88666678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#88666678' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-88504335</id><published>2003-02-03T20:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-03T23:40:05.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Don't you steal him from me!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told myself I wasn't going to bitch about this but dammit I can't help it, I'm still so fucking upset.  We're in the process of finding a professor to supervise our 4th year thesis projects in September.  Right from the beginning, I knew I wanted to work with BM, because he's the only professor I see myself getting along with.  Then came my friend Jeff, and we had a conversation about professors and their work and which ones I had planned on asking.  After I told him how I really wanted BM, he was like "Hmmmm.... he is pretty nice."  He didn't even know what that professor actually did and minutes before he decided to visit his office, he asked me, "What research is he involve in?"  Fuck, if you wanted to ask him, you could at least have known what research he does.  So he goes and asks him Thursday last week, and I didn't get to talk to Jeff again until an hour earlier.  I emailed BM last Friday, and I just got his reply today and he told me that he's not accepting 4th year thesis students.  And I found out from Jeff that BM is thinking of a thesis topic for him.  Bastard.  I swear I'm so mad.  He stole him from me.  He knew how much I wanted BM to be my supervisor, he was the reason why I was so excited about this in the first place.  And now I have to find another professor that is willing to take me.  I hate him!!!  I think Jeff felt sorry for me, too, or he probably just felt guilty, because he kept asking me if I wanted him to go with me and talk to BM.  Gee, thanks Dad!  No thanks Jeff, I don't need your help.  It's bad enough as it is, why are you making it worse?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, time for me to look for another professor...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-88504335?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/88504335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/88504335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#88504335' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-88413299</id><published>2003-02-02T02:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-02T02:24:37.800-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;I&gt;I’ll be your dream, I’ll be your wish, I’ll be your fantasy…&lt;/I&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was weird.  I was driving home a couple days ago and &lt;I&gt;Truly, Madly, Deeply&lt;/I&gt; was on the radio when I turned it on.  I get goose bumps whenever I hear that song.  I can’t even explain it, it’s a feeling of giddiness that you get when you’re in love.  What’s strange is that I’m not even in love.  I don’t know why I feel excited whenever I hear that song.  It’s a nice feeling.  Does that ever happen to you?  Oh yeah, the weird part was, I changed it to another station and that same song was on!  Call it destiny, fate, whatever, but I think it was trying to tell me something.  It was probably a sign.  Of what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago I met a guy named Nelson.  He was just perfect, maybe &lt;I&gt;too&lt;/I&gt; perfect.  We met at a mutual friend’s birthday party, and we just hit it off.  To this day I don’t know why he even noticed me since there were other prettier girls at that party, and I was in shock when he asked me if I wanted to hangout after the party.  That guy was the sweetest talker.  All the things he said to me made my heart skip a beat.  We didn’t really happen, mainly because I was too scared to start anything with him.  I was scared that he might hurt me.  He was just too good to be true.  And plus, that asshole Justin (I wrote about him in a previous entry) and his friend Jose hated him, and since I was very close to them, I listened to their lies.  I told him that my family was moving to California!  I ignored his calls and his ICQ messages.  He was so confused, that poor guy!  He called my friend Sarah and he asked her for advice.  I thought it was kind of stalker-ish of him to be calling my friends, but now when I look back on it, I think he was just trying to find answers as to why I was ignoring him.  I told Nelson how much I liked &lt;I&gt;Truly, Madly, Deeply&lt;/I&gt;, and when he called me again a few months after I started ignoring him, he remembered!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still regret what happened, and I was so stupid for listening to Justin and Jose.  Those assholes!  I hate them now.  It’s funny how I blame it on them.  Yes, it was their fault.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now everytime I hear that song, it makes me sad because it reminds me of Nelson.  I haven’t met any guys who are half as decent as him.  He was so honest and just so &lt;I&gt;nice&lt;/I&gt;!  Oh well, maybe we’re not meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-88413299?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/88413299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/88413299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#88413299' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-88029705</id><published>2003-01-25T21:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-25T21:58:17.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://friday.littledusty.org/"&gt;Photo Friday&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www3.sympatico.ca/maira81/182290/photofriday.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Challenge:  Children's Toys&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-88029705?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/88029705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/88029705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88029705' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-87907269</id><published>2003-01-23T12:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-23T12:17:21.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I need motivation...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was planning to come to school today to do some studying because I have 2 quizzes tomorrow, but time and time again, my laziness always gets the best of me.  I even set my alarm clock at 7 AM but actually got up at 10:30.  I love the snooze button!  I hate Thursdays when I don't have labs.  It's a complete waste.  And my prof finally moved the Tuesday lecture to Wednesday, so yay!  I finally have Tuesdays free!  Which only makes sense because only about 20% of the class (we have approx. 80 students) show up.  Mostly the rez students since they don't have to commute.  We actually had a vote yesterday, and sure enough, the rez people voted to leave it as is, while the people who have to commute voted to move it to Wednesday.  It was pretty close but we won!  I think the rez ppl were sort of pissed because they want a break on Wednesdays because we have lectures and tutorials for 6 hours straight.  Well, try commuting 1.5 hr and back for an hour class, that's all I have to say.  It wouldn't have mattered anyway, since I still would skip those lectures had they not changed it at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha!  All I talk about is school.  You must think I'm a big nerd.  I wish!  I really wish I had brains.  Like my friend, Irene.  She's so friggin smart.  And she's a year younger than us because she fast-tracked in high school.  And she has a twin who is also smart, who is in the same program but he didn't fast track so he's in 2nd year.  My brother is not even smart, but I love him, though.  It's true, I love my brother but he probably doesn't know that.  We always fight but hey, that's what brothers and sisters do, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a &lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com"&gt;xanga&lt;/a&gt; site, and my screenname is sort of similar to my blogspot name.  I rarely post there because it's full of teeny boppers who only talk about how they hate life and their parents (ha ha... I used to be like them, but I grew out of that phase), and they post their best pictures saying "look at me, I am so beautiful!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, time to start my homework.  bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-87907269?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87907269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87907269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87907269' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-87767108</id><published>2003-01-20T23:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-21T01:26:16.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt; I like it, you like it... I love it, you love it... You want it, I got it... There's no need for you to be afraid...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know my days off are useless?  I stay up late the night before doing n-o-t-h-i-n-g, so I sleep in until 2 PM and just waste my day.  Like tonight I know I will be sleeping late because it's almost midnight and I haven't started any homework that I set myself to do.  And tomorrow, guess what?  I will be doing the stupid Economics problem set.  I cannot stress enough how much I hate that course and the prof.  Okay, I understand that in every course we are expected to read ahead, but who does that anyway?  Nobody, except for the keeners.  What's unfair is giving a quiz based on a topic that hasn't been discussed.  ARggghhh... I hate him.  Our class failed the last quiz because the quiz was on the lecture &lt;i&gt;after&lt;/i&gt; the quiz.  If that's not enough to hate the prof, we have to e-mail him at leasat 7 times each week!  Twice for our press reviews, twice for the problem sets, twice for our problem set marks, and once for our quiz mark.  I HATE HIM!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend was a complete waste.  It was too cold to go out.  Well, I guess I still could've if I really wanted to.  It's just that I'm so sick of driving my friends around.  Everytime we go out it is always expected that I drive, and they rarely offer money for gas.  I wouldn't take it anyway even if they offer, but they don't, and it still would be nice if they offer.  I don't really mind if I drive but everytime we go out, I hate having to pick up 4 people because first of all, it's a waste of time and gas, and secondly, most of the passengers are just tag-alongs.  That's another thing that irritates me when I'm driving.  One of my friends would decide to invite someone they know, and even if we're almost at our destination (and sometimes when we are already at our destination), they would ask me if I could pick that person up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have issues with my friend, Christina.  She always criticizes my driving.  By the way, I have a clean record, and she does not!  Anyway, she always drives her cult friends around, but whenever she goes out with us, her car is always mysteriously broken.  And she doesn't hide the fact from us that she hates driving but if she really doesn't want to drive, then why the hell is she willing to drive 200+ kilometres when it is her cult-err--church friends that she is driving?  I wish she didn't have double standards.  I remember the time when she had to drive some of us home, and I could sense that she was kind of annoyed.  Later that night, or should I say, later that morning, she woke me up at 4 AM because she got locked out of her house.  It turned out that after driving us home, she drove all the way to Brampton because she wanted to talk to her "best"-friend (from the cult).  Isn't that why the telephone was invented?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So enough complaining.  Tonight, I'm going to attempt 2 questions from the RXNs problem set before going to bed.  I have to.  Tomorrow is Economics Day.  I hate Economics, but I think I've already mentioned that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-87767108?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87767108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87767108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87767108' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-87715196</id><published>2003-01-20T01:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-20T01:57:49.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Justin&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to marry a Justin.  I've never dated a guy named Justin, though.  But I almost did... with 4 different Justins.  I think I'm destined to be with a guy named Justin.  And here are 4 reasons why...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  &lt;b&gt;Justin V&lt;/b&gt;  This guy is the biggest asshole I know.  I rarely talk to him anymore... let me rephrase that... I don't talk to him anymore and I don't really care if I'll never have the chance to talk to him again.  He is selfish, manipulative, a user, and a liar.  I don't know why women are attracted to him.  He's not good-looking, but I guess he has a way of making a woman feel special.  Having said that, I'm not really sure if he really wanted to date me after all.  I was in Grade 12 when we became close.  Actually, he was close with my best friend, Sarah, and she sort of had feelings for him.  The whole situation is &lt;i&gt;very&lt;/i&gt; complicated.  Justin's friend, JG liked me, and Justin was after this girl SC for the longest time.  Justin told Sarah that he was worried about JG and blah blah blah... and it wasn't the right time now that he's getting with SC and blah blah blah...  I think if it wasn't for SC, I would've at least tried to get him.  SC and I became friends because of JG and she was sort of like my big sister.  There was more to the whole thing but in the end, Justin cheated on SC, Sarah felt used by Justin, JG and Justin remained friends despite the fact that they secretly hated each other, and me... well, I just realized what a big asshole Justin really was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  &lt;b&gt;Justin S&lt;/b&gt;  I met this guy in first year and I thought he was really cool.  I was kinda hesitant to include him here, because I'm not really sure if he was interested.  I remember him inviting me to go out, you know, just to hang out outside of school, but it was always the wrong time.  The worse part it, I always found an excuse not to hang out.  I guess he got tired of it so he stopped.  I really thought he was just being friendly, but a friend of mine, JC, told me otherwise.  I don't know how he knows, but JC is sort of the gossip king who knows everything that is going on.  And then it started to make sense.  But nooo.. maybe he was just being friendly, after all, he is a friendly person.  Maybe it's a question mark for him because I'm not really sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  &lt;b&gt;Justin R&lt;/b&gt;  This guy is one of my guy-friends.  What happened between us a year ago is something that everyone knows but they dare not say anything.  Why?  Because at that time, he was in a 4-yr relationship.  They're still going strong and I want to kick myself sometimes for almost destroying what they have.  The girl is even my friend!  I'm going to hell for sure.  I don't know if she knows, but if she does, she sure is letting me go easy.  So I hope for her sake that that little fling remains hush hush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  &lt;b&gt;Justin ?&lt;/b&gt;  The Helium guy.  He was in the same first-yr class with me and when I saw him at this club, I made it my mission to at least dance with him.  Well, I got what I wanted... and more.  It was probably one of the dumbest things I've done.  We see each other at school in computer labs and around school, but I always try to avoid him.  I'm sure he's doing the same thing.  I hope he didn't tell his friends.  Oh god, I hope he didn't!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-87715196?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87715196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87715196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87715196' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-87572180</id><published>2003-01-16T23:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-16T23:20:10.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I'm so tired...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm supposed to be studying for an Economics quiz, but whatever.  I missed the quiz last week because the freaking bus was too freaking slow.  So tomorrow I'm taking the GO train and I don't care if it's more expensive than TTC.  TTC sucks.  I can't depend on it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw KN on my way home yesterday.  We got on the same subway car and she tapped my shoulders as I was grabbing a seat.  Usually I would feel uncomfortable talking to people from my high school but with her, it was just so nice to talk to her again and catch up.  She really &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; a nice girl.  I didn't really like her friends in high school because one of them was such an airhead, but that's a different story.  It's true what KN said, you know... that we're growing up so fast but we feel like we're missing out on all the supposedly "university experience" that you see on TV--house party every weekend, clubs and activities everyday, the dorm/sorority house sharing--all of that, and oh yeah, of course school.  But on TV, school seems to take a backseat to all those things mentioned.  For me, I have no time to join a club, and no matter how I want to be involved in school activities, I just can't seem to get my schedule together because it's such a hassle to have to commute everyday.  Sigh.  Don't believe everything you see on TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, today we had an 8-hr lab, and it was really fun!  I was surprised that labs could be this much fun.  Except for the quiz part and the Q&amp;A with the TA.  Our group and this other group who was working beside us decided that we order from this Japanese restaurant down the street.  Why not?  It was free-delivery.  I ordered Teriyaki Chicken, and it was so good!  I know I have to be tight with my budget, but this does not happen all the time.  That was a change from the hotdogs and fries and soup that I buy from the cafeteria.  I took some pictures while in the lab because we were just &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www3.sympatico.ca/maira81/182290/107_0743.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hey you two... get back to work!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www3.sympatico.ca/maira81/182290/107_0737_r1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;My groupmates and our lab... Packed Distillation... not exciting, I'm tellin' ya!  But it was fun just running around...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-87572180?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87572180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87572180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87572180' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-87126123</id><published>2003-01-08T14:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-08T14:46:58.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Wasting time away...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it's the first week, our prof (the cute one :) ) told us that tutorial today is cancelled.  This sucks.  I have nothing to do for 2 hrs.  Some people in my class are preparing for their labs next week.  I should do that, too, but some of my group members are in the environmental option, so they have class right now.  But it's okay, at least I get to blog, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had the class with the cute prof, Materials.  I swear I have to work harder in that class because it's really hard to concentrate with such a handsome man standing in front of the class all the time.  I think I want to marry him.  Ha ha ha.  I'm still trying to convince JC to take a picture of him during class because he has a camera with a powerful zoom (10x) so we can sit in the back and just shoot away!  I'm so giddy just thinking about him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our marks were finally posted this morning.  Mmmm.. I think they're okay, I should be happy that I passed everything considering I failed or almost failed all my midterms, except maybe for Stats.  But when I kinda felt bad when I was comparing my marks with other people because I know some guys who didn't do shit last term and they ended up with marks higher than me.  That is not fair!  I really have to work extra hard this term.  Sigh.  I'm just thinking of all the work I did last term and maybe I slacked off a bit, but still, I think I deserved better marks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pretty surprised I didn't do that badly on Mass Transfer.  I was failing the labs and the midterm was sooo bad.  For Reactions, too.  I failed the midterms, so I guess my mark for that is reasonable.  But it's just for Stats.  That was my best midterm and we had to do a lot of work in that class.  The assignments were horrible, but I did all that work for such a bad mark.  Argghh.... And it's so hard to hate the prof because he's really nice to me, although most of the people in my class hate his guts.  But I like him, I think he's one of those professors who sincerely care for their students and their learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should start reading the lab manual now because I heard our group's lab next week is really long!  Yikes!  8 hours in the lab, wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-87126123?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87126123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87126123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87126123' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-87035830</id><published>2003-01-06T20:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-06T20:57:55.570-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I'm scared...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First day of classes today.  My schedule is alright, everything is packed but I have Tuesdays off.  Well, almost.  I have a class from 5-6, but I think I'll be skipping that class every week unless there is some group project that we have to work on for the whole day.  All the other days of the week are really hectic, but that's okay as long as I get a day off (almost).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was late for my 9AM class today because the stupid bus was so slow.  Sep. Process seems okay, but the lab portion of this course really &lt;i&gt;scares&lt;/i&gt; me.  I only have to write the report once but since I'm the fourth member of my group, it means that I have to write it near exam time, which is okay I guess.  Some people are handing in their report so early, like next week!  Sucks to be them.  Honestly, that lab scares me!  I really have to work hard and I can't slack off like I did last semester.  I really have to be prepared before coming in for the labs because the supervisor, Paul, doesn't let you perform the lab unless you've proven to him that you know the background of the experiment.  And the theoretical background is really some serious stuff, I don't know if my poor brain can handle it.  The worst part is one member of our group may leave us since he's worried that he failed last semester.  So that might leave us with only 3 students in our group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second class seems okay, Materials Sci, as my prof likes to call it.  He's so hot!  I became speechless the minute he walked in.  And I bet all the other girls in my class were the same.  Those eyes!  They just make you, hmm.. what's the word I'm looking for?  I don't know man, you just have to see him.  Hey maybe I'll take a picture of him.  Hope he doesn't catch me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third class seems to be the hardest out of all my courses this term.  Process D&amp;C.  Ewwww.  I remember first year Process and how I barely passed the course.  Process was my worst nightmare, and to think that I have to take another course just like it, it really makes me very very afraid and scared.  Well, I don't think it's exactly going to be the first year Process course.  This one is more on the "computing" side of process.  Today during the tutorial (right after the lecture), we were introduced to MATLAB.  It's funny how other engineering students have been using MATLAB since first year, and we Chems are only starting to use it in 3rd year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, last class of the day, Economics.  I don't know why we need to learn a business course.  Our prof said it's probably the most useful course in our 4 years of university.  Okay, whatever.  I hope he's right because his class is BORING.  Probably because he's from the Mech/Indy Department, I don't really know.  Ugh, I just hate that class.  We are required to summarize a newspaper article (finance related) and hand it in at the beginning of each class (we have 2 each week) and he randomly chooses 5 students to present what they have.  On top of that, we have 2 problem sets to hand in each week.  This is just too much work for one class.  And it's only Economics for crying out loud.  It's not even a real engineering course!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's still another course and that one starts tomorrow, and I'll be skipping it because it's not worth commuting 3 hours in total for a class that is only an hour long.  I know I shouldn't really be skipping but it's only the first class.  Sigh.  I guess that's it for now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-87035830?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87035830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/87035830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87035830' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-86935798</id><published>2003-01-04T17:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-04T17:31:03.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Sick... again&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm sick again.  The last time I felt like this was when the day before my RK exam.  I thought it was only anxiety, but I can't blame this one on anxiety, what is there to be anxious about?  The beginning of 2nd term?  I can't believe school starts on Monday!  I'm proud of myself, though.  I only spent around $30 this holiday break.  I didn't do any Christmas shopping, and I didn't go to any expensive restaurants.  I tried to eat dinner at home before going out for the night.  And I only used the car when there was enough gas to last me for the whole day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was feeling better yesterday morning, but I had to drive to the dentist yesterday afternoon in the freakin' snowstorm.  I got stuck in the snow and I had to shovel the snow behind the front wheels so I get through.  No wonder I'm sick.  It's all that shoveling in the cold.  Damn you, snow!  I hope JA is not mad at me for bailing out on our plans for tonight.  I know I always tell her how we don't see enough of each other ever since we started university, and now that we finally have plans I have to cancel because of my stupid cold.  I'll try to make it up to her, I promise.  Actually I'm sort of relieved that I don't have to spend money tonight, because I'm so broke!  I had to get money from my credit card to pay the minimum payment on my credit card bill.  That's how broke I am.  I don't want to ask my dad for money because I'm going to ask him for money for textbook later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's this annual dinner-dance on January 18th and I promised my friends from school that I would go, but now I don't know... I want to, but I need $$$.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song is stuck in my head...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Cause it's nobody else's but mine&lt;br /&gt;Ah you're in my heart&lt;br /&gt;I can feel your beat&lt;br /&gt;And you move my mind&lt;br /&gt;From behind the wheel&lt;br /&gt;When I lose control&lt;br /&gt;I can only breathe your name&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-86935798?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86935798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86935798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#86935798' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-86738805</id><published>2002-12-31T03:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-31T03:27:16.383-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Untitled II&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really like Filipino movies, and tonight I watched 2, can you believe it?  2 Filipino movies in one night!  CV's sister rented them and I kinda enjoyed the first one, but the second one was just bad.  Ack, I don't like the actors because they're mostly Filipino-Americans or Filipino-Canadians who can't even act but are only popular because they can speak English without an accent.  That's a joke I hear often... "Eh, I'm not going to college, I think I'll just go to the Philippines and be an actor!"  Okaaaay, you go do that...  Not all of them are bad actors, though.  I forgot what movie it was but I watched one a few years ago with Vilma Santos in it and she goes to Singapore (or Hong Kong) to be a babysitter and her husband dies and her daughter becomes a whore.  That movie was so sad, I was crying 10 minutes into the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, GC and I met up with Pat, Pek, Lor, and Jas later.  It was really nice seeing them again, except for Pat, I see him almost everyday.  GC2 and her friend (from their church) came along with us and it was kinda weird because I can't do anything when the cult people are around.  Pat feels the same way.  I always sense GC's disapproval whenever I touch a cigarette.  Oh yeah, when we were watching earlier, I noticed that GC always looked away from the TV screen whenever people kiss.  I find that really annoying.  Reminds me of that time when we rented Monster's Ball and they skipped all the sex scenes.  I didn't really mind but there were other people watching so that was really rude.  I think I'm gonna start a list of all the annoying things that they do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-86738805?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86738805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86738805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#86738805' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-86652821</id><published>2002-12-29T03:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-29T03:10:18.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Another sleepless night&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't sleep so now I'm surfing the net.  I got a cut from my mousepad because its corners are very sharp.  I think I need a new one cuz I've had this for I think 4 years now.  It's so cheesy, I got it for free although I forgot how I got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www3.sympatico.ca/maira81/182290/100_0003.JPG"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read other people's blogs when I'm bored.  I hate those ones that are so flashy.  I like the simple ones that don't take too long to load.  And I especially hate those bloggers who try to sound so deep and intellectual.  I think I have about 10 blogs that I bookmarked and I try to visit them at least once a day.  I think it has become a habit of mine that I go to &lt;a href="http://www.thestar.com"&gt;thestar.com&lt;/a&gt;, and then visit my "favourite" blogs whenever I get home from school.  And I might visit them again whenever I find myself procrastinating in the middle of homework.  I'm such a stalker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-86652821?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86652821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86652821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#86652821' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-86609073</id><published>2002-12-27T21:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-28T00:52:29.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I'm so lazy...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing nothing the whole day.  Which is okay, because I long for a day like this when I have school.  I guess I should consider this a gift because there is really nothing I have to do.  Except maybe to start looking for a summer job.  Blech, I'll worry about that next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was probably the first Boxing Day in years that I wasn't too eager to shop.  I slept in until 1 PM and my brother was bugging me to go to Square One with him but I was just too lazy.  Or maybe because I just didn't have money.  Or maybe because I already got what I wanted--which is my Canon S230!  Whee!!!  She's so beautiful!  I started taking pictures the minute the battery was charged.  Oh yeah, the first time I really used it was at CV's birthday party last Saturday.  I didn't really want to go to her party because I knew her cult friends would be there, but I went just for old time's sake.  I had another party to go to, JR's birthday party so I had an excuse to leave early.  Well, I didn't leave early since GC wanted me to wait for them since they were all going to JR's anyway.  Yeah right.. they just needed a ride.  At least they didn't ask me to drive their cult friends home--which they did at CV's party last year.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, GC called me a "brat" when she learned that I got the digicam from my parents.  WTF?  And they (my friends in the cult) always point out how my parents give me everything I need so I don't really have to work when I am in school.  Yes, I guess that's true.  But I did work last summer and I paid for my textbooks.  See, I tried explaining that to them, but they were just like, "We all worked, so we know what you mean."  No, they fucking don't know what I mean.  They waste their money on their cult activities that they don't have enough money for important things like SCHOOL.  And yes, I do rely on my parents but I've never let them down.  I am not failing my courses like some of THEM, and at least I treat my all my friends the same way.  Funny how CV made a comment that I always have my parents to turn to whenever I'm in financial trouble--that's coming from the girl whose mom bought her a car, pays for her car insurance and gives her money for gas.  They're such HYPOCRITES, I hate them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ack, anyway, I really don't feel like hanging out with them anymore.  Earlier I called GC so I could return her DVD, but CV and some of the cult people were at her house at that time and CV answered the phone.  She sounded kind of annoyed, it was like she was thinking, "Oh, it's you."  I called back later and GC wanted to hang out but I knew she would want to bring those other people so I kinda said no.  It's sad because we used to be so close at one point in our lives.  I just can't believe how stupid they can be, letting the cult brainwash them like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I find myself alone most of the time.  I tried reading but I don't have any good books here.  I usually borrow SM's books because she's the bookworm.  Well, not really, she just has a nice book collection--fiction, biographies, etc.  My book collection is not even worth mentioning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www3.sympatico.ca/maira81/182290/100_0009_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;my book collection&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn you SM for going to Philly for the Christmas break.  See, she's my ally.  We're fighting the evil cult people and we have to save our friends from them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-86609073?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86609073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86609073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#86609073' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-86361793</id><published>2002-12-21T10:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-23T13:46:15.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Please...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm up early because my parents and I are going to Best Buy to get my Christmas present!  Sweet!  We're getting it today because they're leaving tonight and they won't be back 'till Christmas Eve.  Actually we went to Future Shop last night and they were out of stock of the digital camera that I wanted :(  so we're going to try Best Buy, so I hope they have it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love not having school.  I have more time alone now...mainly because I refuse to hang out with my friends and their cult friends.  But that's okay.  I'm reading again... books from my sci fi class last year.  Cool, eh?  I hate to read, but now I find myself enjoying it more and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G.C., the older one, called me last Thursday just to say hello.  I told her that I was dropping by S.M.'s place and I asked her if she wanted to come.  She couldn't of course, cuz she was studying for a test.  But she asked me if I could swing by her place to get her and drop her off at this store because she had to get something for this Christmas lunch at her school.  First of all, she had the NERVES to ask me to drive her when it was so out of the way, and second of all, did she call me just to say hello or to bum for a ride?  Those cult people!  They make me really mad.  They're such users.  Grrr... whatever....  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually tonight is C.V.'s bday party.  Her birthday was yesterday but they're having the party tonight because they had their annual cult Christmas party last night.  They invited me last week but I told them that I was going to J.R.'s party.  Well, G.C. said to come to the party anyway since she's going to J.R.'s after.  Was she hinting that she needed a ride?  Well, I would go to C.V.'s party, because we were close friends after all, but I don't want a repeat of last year when she totally ignored me in front of all her cult friends.  More things happened that night, but I'm just too lazy to write about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... I think my dad's ready to go... so hopefully I'll get a picture up on this site by today....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah.. one more thing... &lt;a href="http://paean.diaryland.com/"&gt;Jessica&lt;/a&gt;:  I tried signing your guestbook but it always says "you forgot to fill in the required fields.. blah blah blah..."  but hopefully all your other courses turn out okay.  Remember the magic words : BELL CURVE.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another thing... to SHOOTMYHEADPLZ... I would love to read your blog but I can't seem to make the link work :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-86361793?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86361793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86361793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#86361793' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-86259592</id><published>2002-12-19T02:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-19T14:01:24.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Whee!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay!  I finished my exams today!!!  Well, yesterday since it's thursday now.  This is the most effort I've put into school work and I hope I get rewarded for it.  But I don't think I did well because the exams were really hard.  I hope I passed all of them (*cross fingers*).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not doing anything special this christmas break.  I almost feel sorry for myself because I only have a few friends left to hang out with.  You know.. friends that you gossip with, and come over whenever they're bored, or you don't mind them seeing you in your pj's because they've seen you in worse situations.  You know, friends that are supposed to LAST.  I've lost most of my friends to that stupid CULT.  There's no hiding the fact that I despise their religious cult.  I don't know why they call it a religion when clearly it's just a manipulative plot by the founders to STEAL money and to make it look like they're actually helping those people by saving them from the fires of hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ack, I've got a new layout but I still don't know what's wrong with Blogger and my October blogs.  It still has the old blue layout and that is making me crazy!  Aiya.  I'll just try to fix that tomorrow, or maybe miraculously, it will fix itself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-86259592?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86259592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86259592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#86259592' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-86019680</id><published>2002-12-15T01:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-19T02:02:28.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;What the hell is wrong with Blogger?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what the hell is wrong with me?  Posting 2 days in a row...  If you click on the archives for my entries in October, the comment thingey doesn't show, and also there's a dead link to a picture which I deleted weeks ago from that entry.  Well, yeah, I just checked if it was working so now I'm going to study some more.  I hate RXN Kinetics!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-86019680?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86019680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/86019680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#86019680' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-85973064</id><published>2002-12-13T21:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-19T02:03:24.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I am the mother of procrastinators...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 down, 2 to go.  Whee!  The 2 worst exams are finally over.  Well, the one on Monday won't be easy, but nah... everyone's failing that anyway.  Hey I finally got the comment thingey back on... cool!  I took it off before since nobody wanted to comment.  My plan this christmas break is to give this site a fresh new look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to pee during the exam.  I hate when that happens because you lose precious, precious time.  But it didn't really matter since I had time to look over my exam before the prof collected them.  The subway ride home was weird.  I saw G.  And then I saw "Bob."  He came from the other subway car.  We talked about the exam and after 2 stops, he went to the next subway car "to see if other people are on the train."  He's so retarted.  He has this biggest crush on this girl in our class but she absolutely hates him!  I can understand why.  He's very arrogant and he thinks he's the smartest person on earth.  Bleh, he doesn't have A personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, yeah, I saw G.  I want to kick myself really, for not doing anything.  Next time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-85973064?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/85973064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/85973064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#85973064' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-85798823</id><published>2002-12-10T15:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-10T21:21:48.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Can't wait till exams are over...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... my first exam was today, thermo II.  I read the first question and I almost fell off my chair.  Now I feel guilty for going to bed early last night and not studying more.  I had the best aid sheet though, colours and everything!  I should've been smarter and written problem set solutions.  One girl from my class did that.  Okay, maybe I had the second best aid sheet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a weird dream last night.  In my dream, I was dating this guy from school and we were, hmmm.. sweet?  Okay, don't think that I like him, because he is not the type of person I would normally date.  He's nice, though.  &lt;i&gt;Too&lt;/i&gt; nice, maybe.  So yeah, it was really weird and I saw him today, too!  So now I don't know.  I have a feeling that he's paying more attention to me now ever since we started working together on this case study.  After the dream, maybe I would go for him if he EVER asks me out, but I don't really like dating anyone in engineering.  Especially someone in my program.  I think I'd get sick of him if I see him everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we're on the subject of dating, you know when you had a chance with a guy, but you totally blew him off, but you didn't really care back then because c'mon, it's &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt;... and then you see him with a new girl, a HOT girl, and you suddenly feel jealous and disappointed at the same time?  Grrr.. I hate that feeling.  And you can't even blame the guy, because it's your fault, and yours alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I think that's enough whining for now.... gonna take a nap and then start my cheat sheet for R.K.  Hey &lt;a href="http://paean.diaryland.com/"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jessica&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, yes, I'm a girl :)  and good luck on your exams, too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-85798823?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/85798823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/85798823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#85798823' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-85431928</id><published>2002-12-03T11:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-12-03T17:52:44.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Untitled&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.  Last time I blogged was on Oct 18th.  I really want to do a weekly update but everytime I start, I always end up deleting the whole thing because I don't think they're worth posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing has really changed.  School still sucks and this week is the last week.  Well, tomorrow's the last day.   I didn't go to school today because it's too cold outside, and I usually have a lab on Tuesdays.  Honestly, I'm so worried about failing this term because my midterm marks weren't that great.  It sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the time to study last week, but all sorts of distractions seems to be going my way.  I guess I better end this blog right here and start Thermo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-85431928?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/85431928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/85431928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_12_01_archive.html#85431928' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-83198352</id><published>2002-10-18T23:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-12-14T01:03:24.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Update Update&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while since I last posted.  Arggh.. I hate October only because it's the midterms.  But I love it because it's the start of hockey season.  My beloved Maple Leafs have not been terrific so far, but who has time to worry about them when you have other things to worry about, like for example, midterms and never-ending assignments.  But no, I won't complain because I've noticed that everytime I blog, all I can talk about is school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we have this departmental annual dinner dance and I'm planning to go.  I, however, will go date-less because I just don't want to worry if my date is having a good time or not.  I don't want to babysit that night so it's better if you just go alone and have fun with your friends.  I learned my lesson (i.e. prom, OAC cruise) and I refuse to go through it again.  HECK, who am I kidding?  I'm going alone because no one has asked me (yet, I hope).  And I don't want to ask someone again or it might be Prom part II.  Yes, I had to ask someone to be my promdate only because this guy asked me and I didn't exactly want to go with him.  Also, an old "friend" of mine was expecting me to ask him, so I just told him that I already had a date.  Anyway, to make the long story short, the guy hates me now which doesn't really affect me at all since I never see him anymore anyway, and we were never even friends in the first place.  Of course I feel guilty but there's nothing I can do now, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crap, Friday night and I'm doing a Stats assignment.  I'm such a nerdy loser.  Next week is hell week.  Assignments and midterms, oh lord.  Wait, am I complaing about school again?  Sorry, no more complaining :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-83198352?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/83198352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/83198352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#83198352' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-82386169</id><published>2002-10-01T18:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-12-14T01:54:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Skule sucks&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... I think it's time to change the layout, I'm getting sick of the yellow/white style.  The problem is, I don't know how to make one, I'm really HTML illiterate.  And I don't really have time to go steal a layout from Blogskins.com, so I guess I'll just have to put up with this ugly layout for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's really nothing to talk about now except school.  I become a social outcast during the school year.  From September to December, I only see my friends a few times.  For 4 months, I eat, breathe, think, and dream about school.  When December comes, that's when I get a break, but it's another cycle from January to April.  School is slowly killing my social life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a sad news today :(  Remember the report I handed in last week?  Well, after I was done, (or I thought I was), I quickly just e-mailed it to the supervisor without looking over it.  I just wanted to get rid of the stupid report because I just didn't care anymore.  Well, minutes after I sent it, I realized that I forgot to include a few pages.  The TA who marked it talked to me today and said that my report was generally GOOD - but, I made some silly mistakes (e.g. not including an evaluation sheet) - and I lost easy marks because of that.  I wanted to cry.  I sacrificed my birthday to write the stupid report.  I mean it was my bday and I was confined in my room number crunching and trying to make sense of my weird results.  I was upset for the whole day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have another J.C. story.  He got one of his group members mad.  We were handing in an assignment for Stats yesterday, and I guess he offered to do Part 2 of the assignment.  He didn't realize how much work it required.  Well, that's not my story, but it's when he finished he was so eager to show me what he did, and how "much" he did for part 2.  And this was when were were trying to put the finishing touches in our group's assignment.  Hello?  Couldn't he see how busy I was?  He even went over to our computer and demanded that we show him our part 2.  Well, he didn't demand it, but it was so obvious that he wanted to compare what he did to ours.  He looked over it and he was asking all sorts of questions like, "Where is blah blah", and "How did you blah blah blah?"  I was pissed.  At least ours was a group effort.  I'm glad I'm not stuck in his group.  He's such a know-it-all.  I know he's just trying to be helpful sometimes, but it's just annoying.  I'm mean.  Omigod, I don't want to talk about this anymore because I know I sound mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so behind in school.  The report last week has really put me back and I haven't recovered, even after a week.  It's so hard to get back on track.  This weekend is going to be my "catch-up on everything" weekend.  I hate my professor in Mass Transfer.  I had him for Calc last year, and I don't know how I managed to pass the course cuz he is just terrible!  I don't understand anything he's teaching in class.  I hate him I hate him I hate him!!!  On the other hand, I just love my Reaction Kinetics prof.  He is just so funny and cute!  Not in that-way cute, but cute because he is just the funniest!  And my Thermo prof, I just feel sorry for him.  I had him for 1st year Chem, and I didn't really like him back then, but he's okay now.  I think the problem in 1st year was me.  I almost failed his class cuz I was a lazy ass.  I just feel sorry for him now cuz people in my class don't listen to him.  He's a good professor and he's one of the few professor I've had who writes neatly on the board.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm.. I think that's enough talking for now.  I have to start my thermo pre-lab.  So see ya!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-82386169?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/82386169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/82386169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#82386169' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-82063819</id><published>2002-09-24T18:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-24T18:14:58.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Birthday Blues&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello.  I know I haven't written for more than a week.  I've just been REALLY busy with school.  2 and a half weeks into the school year and I'm already swamped with work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I turned 21 last weekend.  I didn't get to celebrate because of the stupid lab report that was due yesterday.  Okay we have a lab every week for our Mass Transfer course, and aside from the extensive preparation you have to do, you have to write a formal report and one person in your group is assigned to write it every week.  My turn to write it happened to be on the weekend of my birthday, so I didn't do anything else.  I didn't know it would take so much time to write it.  As it turned out, I had managed to fill up 33 pages.  It was really crappy, though because I forgot to mention a few things and I just realized it after I e-mailed the report to my lab supervisor.  Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I'm 21 now.  And I can't believe I'm in 3rd Year.  I remember me when I was a frosh and I looked up to the higher years.  Fuck, I still feel like I don't know anything.  And I'm graduating in less than 2 years.  Am I ready for the real world?  Is the real world ready for me?  I'm so scared I won't be able to find a job, and if I do, I'll mess up everything because honestly, I know nothing.  Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends at school were so sweet.  They all pitched in to give me a little something.  Honestly, I wouldn't know what to do without them.  I'm so glad I found friends that are willing to share their homework, hee hee hee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-82063819?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/82063819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/82063819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#82063819' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-81636359</id><published>2002-09-15T14:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-15T14:13:57.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Textbooks, TEXTbooks, TEXTBOOKS!&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm.. it's really hard to find time to update your blog.  It's been a week and a half into the school year and I'm already swamped with work.  Two labs and a quiz this week.  And I haven't even bought all my textbooks yet.  That's another problem.  I promised my Dad that I won't be asking him money for textbooks since that has been my responsibility since first year.  This year is different though.  I had a lot of bills to pay off in the summer so that left me with almost nothing for books.  And plus, G.C. borrowed money from me so she could register for her courses, and now I need it badly.  I feel bad for her because she only borrowed because somebody else owed her money but that person couldn't pay her on time.  So now I need the money because we're having a quiz on Wednesday and I need to textbook badly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My schedule is okay this year, I guess.  I have 29 hrs/week, but that's better than the 32 hours we had last year.  The material is definitely more difficult but we'll see what happens around midterms.  There is a pressure on me to do well this year since I did well last year (not that well, but if you know me in real life, that was quite an accomplishment!).  I don't like being late in class because it usually means that it will take me about a minute to find a decent seat in the room, and that seat is usually in front of the people who don't really care to listen to the professor.  I mean, they're nice people &lt;i&gt;individually&lt;/i&gt; but when they sit together, they DON'T PAY ATTENTION.  And you hear them complain that they are not getting anything in the lectures.  That's because they ALWAYS TALK!  See, they always complain that the professor does not know how to teach, when they're the ones who do not know how to listen.  Oh god, listen to me, I sound like a keener!  But I'm not!  Really, I'm not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My group for the M.T. lab is okay.  The other two people in my group are pretty smart and they seem to know what they're doing in the labs.  Just this guy (it's a guy and a girl) annoys me because he thinks he's always right.  He thinks that he is even more knowledgable than the TA.  The most disturbing part about it is that he's right most of the time.  I don't hate him, he just intimidates me.  The girl is really fun.  And while the guy is too serious, she is the joker in the group.  Me, I'm just an observer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For statistics class, we made our own group so I can't really complain about it.  Their cool, though, because I pretty much spend all my break time in school with them, so I don't think we're gonna have a problem getting along.  I was just amused when we were choosing the group, because J.C., a friend of mine in school, chose to be with the "smart" people.  Or maybe he chose them because his crush was in the group, I dunno.  He did that in first year when we had the computer programming project.  He does that all the time.  Anyway, I think I'll have more stories of J.C. later as the school year progresses because of what he just &lt;i&gt;does&lt;/i&gt;.  You'll know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, very first J.C. story.  He went to Florida during our summer vacation so he bought souvenirs for all of his "girl"-friends.  But I guess he didn't want to bother to choose which gifts would be perfect for us, so he raffled the gifts during our break.  And I think he put a lot of planning into it.  He brought two containers of sliced peaches and he even brought toothpicks so we wouldn't stain our hands.  That's how extra he is.  It's good I guess, but it's just so freakin' annoying sometimes!  He even took some pictures.  What the hell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to buy a textbook on Friday.  I didn't know how much it was but I had $120 in cash with me (my savings).  So I asked my mom for money just in case the book is more expensive than that.  She gave me $15 because that's how much she had in her wallet.  So I go to the bookstore Friday afternoon after school and the book was $130, and including tax it's a little over $140.  Fuck, I was pissed.  $5 more dollars or so and I would've bought the book that I so badly need!  Oh well.  I'll just hope that G.C. has the money she owes me, and I hope I get it today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-81636359?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/81636359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/81636359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81636359' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-81282329</id><published>2002-09-07T13:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-07T13:09:48.263-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>School has officially started.  Another semester of homeworks, labs, midterms, and all-nighters.  To tell you the truth, I was almost relieved that school has started.  This summer has been bOring.  I didn't have fun at all.  I didn't do anything illegal or immoral.  I think those cult people have had their effect on me, I dunno.  It's good, in a way, but this summer will go down as the most uneventful summer in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the first day of school went well.  I was glad to see some familiar faces, and I was disappointed that some of those familiar faces have stayed on, because they were so friggin annoying last year.  Especially this guy Greg, urgh... he is just so annoying.  It's funny because some of them have dressed up.  Skanks.  LOL.  Gheez, it's just the first day of school.  And we're in friggin 3rd Yr in university, we're not in high school anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we checked the Dean's List, and I made it!!!  Yeah, BABY!  So all my hardwork paid off.  Good.  It feels so good seeing your own name up there.  Wow.  I want to savour the moment because that may never happen again.  Now I don't know if I should be happy that I made the list.  Now I have to outdo myself last year and do well.  And I don't like being pressured to do well.  And people would think that I'm smart, but honestly, I'm not.  I still feel stupid in class because people in my class are so freakin smart, it's scary.  But I really do feel proud of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, I ran into this guy I made out with last summer at this club.  I don't know if he remembers me, but if he does, I hope he didn't tell his friends about what happened.  That would be so embarassing.  Sometimes I think they know that about us, because when he was with his friends and they were talking but they suddenly stopped when they saw me.  Paranoia, I'm telling you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People have been telling me that I gained weight.  I only gained 10 lbs.  Good thing I'm not one of those sensitive girls that freak out whenever people tell them they're gaining weight.  Actually, I'm kind of glad I've gained weight.  One time this girl asked me if she could interview me for one of her courses.  Her topic:  ANOREXIA.  I thought that was really funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, yesterday, I also ran into Mr. L!  He is such a cutie.  OMIGOD.  I sound like a junior high school girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-81282329?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/81282329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/81282329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81282329' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-81173561</id><published>2002-09-05T00:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-05T00:20:07.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>NOOOOOO!  I'm going back to school tomorrow!  Yuck!  Ewww!  Ack!  I guess you get the point that I really really really DON'T WANT TO GO BACK!!!  I feel like I wasted my summer.  I've been trying to save my money all throughout summer that I didn't get the chance to have fun.  Not that I'm rich now.  I just had a lot of expenses/bills/credit to pay for.  Oh crap.  I am so not ready for school.  I haven't done any back-to-school shopping.  I have to look for my old pencil case, oh yeah, I better not forget my calculator.  And I haven't even finished reading the solutions to the quiz we're writing tomorrow (thanks JC for the solutions!).  My cruel lab supervisor is giving us a quiz on our first day back.  He shows no mercy.  It's no biggie, and it's just a safety quiz but c'mon now, on the first day?!?!?  The lab for that course is not even supposed to be on Thursday, it's every Tuesday, but since we don't have the other lab tomorrow, he insisted that the class meets tomorrow for a little introduction/quiz.  Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-81173561?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/81173561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/81173561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81173561' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-81104410</id><published>2002-09-03T16:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-12-03T11:25:07.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Shooting stars and Rashes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got back from the long weekend trip tired and sunburned.  I have a lot of things to tell, but I think I'll just vent out.  Friday, I got off work an hour earlier than usual, and I picked up G and S.  I was annoyed at S because she asked to stop to eat on the way to pick up B because she didn't eat the whole day.  Boo hoo.  I didn't eat anything the whole day because I woke up late because I was packing the night before.  She, on the other hand, was too lazy to cook anything at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the &lt;s&gt;cult&lt;/s&gt; other people we were supposed to meet up with in Brampton were late because of their inability to follow simple instructions.  On the way there, the other driver was complaining that I was driving too slow.  I was only driving 35+ of the speed limit, and yeah, I guess that was too slow since it was already dark and my navigator was having trouble reading the map.  Since she was only following us and didn't have to worry about getting lost, I guess she had every right to demand that we speed up.  After all, we were running late because we had to wait for them, right?  And of course, getting a speeding ticket is out of her worries since she has her mom to pay for her car, gas, and insurance, etc.  Anyway, that's a different story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the cult people were there, all they did was sleep, sleep, and sleep.  They didn't even had much to contribute for food, yet I realized that we spent most of our money on food when those people were there.  I found that the most enjoyable parts of the trip were when they were gone.  Another thing, they asked me if they were required to bring anything.  I told them to bring whatever they wanted, but make sure they bring pillows and something to sleep on.  Surprise surprise, they took our pillows and extra sleeping bags.  Another perfect example of not following simple instructions.  It was as if they were expecting us to take care of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was glad they went home early.  I didn't think I would be able to stand a whole weekend with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was the best part of the trip.  Swimming, and then bonfire at night.  We saw the most beautiful shooting star.  We saw the finest policemen.  They were sexy.  Watched the opening scene of Friday the 13th.  We were too scared to watch the rest of the movie.  We played cards, ate nachos, and drank Bacardi.  I got burned lips and rashes around my mouth in the morning.  By golly, I think I'm allergic to alcohol.  The drive home was &lt;i&gt;traffickey&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, girlies!  We should do it again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-81104410?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/81104410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/81104410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81104410' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-80918904</id><published>2002-08-30T11:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-30T11:00:09.910-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Relax...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend is a do-nothing-weekend.  We're driving somewhere north, me and my girlies.  Well, some of my girlies.  7 of us, 3 are going home early because they don't want to miss (gasp!) their &lt;s&gt;cult&lt;/s&gt; church meeting.  SUCKS TO BE THEM.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaving work an hour early than usual, then I'm picking up my girlies and then we're off!  YIPEE!!!  Be back on Monday the latest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-80918904?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80918904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80918904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80918904' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-80759409</id><published>2002-08-26T23:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-12-03T11:25:28.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Let me know, let me know...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much has been happening, I just thought I'd update my blog.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've realized how much I'm scared of dogs.  Especially my friend's dog, Ri--- err, RyeLee.  I swear, everytime I go to his house, I feel my knees weaken when I ring the doorbell and I hear RyeLee on the other side of the door, just barking and scratching.  But my friend's nice enough to put him away whenever I'm around.  And hey, I'm not the only one who feels the same, even some of my dog-loving friends are terrified of that dog.  Honestly, I don't know when this dog-phobia of mine started.  We used to have a dog for crying out loud.  Her name was Barbie (R.I.P.).  She was so pretty.  But we had to give her up since my brother had an asthma attack.  I think my first scary encounter with a dog is when we went to my gramma's place and I accidentally stepped on her dog's tail.  Well, the dog bit me and I wasn't the same since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why did I bring this subject up?  Okay, I was at STC with friends, and one of them wanted to drop by the pet store to look at the puppies.  She loves dogs, and I think her oohing and aaahing got to me.  I can pretend that I like dogs if they're behind a glass cage in a pet store because I know I'm safe from them, but when they're right there in front of me, I start praying to all the saints and angels in heaven.  People think that I hate dogs, but in truth, I'm terrified of them--extremely terrified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I think it's been a year since I heard the news about Aaliyah (R.I.P.), and I have one of her songs on my Winamp right now... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tell me what it is&lt;br /&gt;Make believe, no need to make believe&lt;br /&gt;Look beyond your own&lt;br /&gt;Try and find another place for me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-80759409?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80759409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80759409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80759409' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-80558790</id><published>2002-08-22T03:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-22T03:24:01.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Birthday Blues&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was S.M.'s bday today... well, yesterday.  She didn't have her annual bbq but we went to a local bar instead.  Anyway, I knew how pricey dinner would cost, so I ate before I left the house.  I left at 10:30 but she wasn't there when I got there so we waited a little bit.  Okay, to make the long story short, we ordered we ate and we paid.  Only to have the guy who served us come back and tell us that we didn't give enough tip.  First of all, I only ordered a drink since I wasn't hungry in the first place so I thought it was only appropriate that I paid $10.  That was for a $5 drink.  There was 18 of us and the bill came up to around $260.  I don't know but if you do the math, if each of us paid $10, then that's $180, but obviously there were those people who ordered a main course and of course they paid (or at least I hope) more.  Why is this a big deal to me?  I'll tell you why...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my friend's bday, and she's very close to me and best of all, she's not in "that" cult.  Most of my friends have &lt;s&gt;been brainwashed by&lt;/s&gt; converted to that it's-really-a-cult-but-they-call-it-a-church, and we're especially close now since we're pretty much what's left of our old high school clique.  Well, there are other people, too, but I don't really see them often.  Anyway, tonight at the bar, our other friends brought some of their &lt;s&gt;cult&lt;/s&gt; church friends, and I was a little annoyed at first since I was expecting a very intimate gathering.  I mean, she doesn't even know some of those people!  Our other friends see them every two days or so, and this would've been the first time we've gotten together in ages.  I was very disappointed to say the least.  Well, their group left early because some of them had work the next day, so they gave us their share of the bill, and you know what happened next.  They were the ones who ordered all those food, and we were stuck with the bill.  How convenient for them!  (Okay, here I am, complaining that I paid too much when in fact I only paid ten bucks).  But still, they should've thought about the tip when they estimated how much they should give.  ARRRGGGHHHH.....  I don't even want to show my face there again, it was too embarassing!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-80558790?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80558790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80558790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80558790' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-80512144</id><published>2002-08-21T02:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-21T03:00:05.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Picnic (again) and Computer Problems&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I went on a "date" with one of my closest girlfriends.  She picked me up after work and we went to a hiking/camping site near my place.  She planned everything (so sweet!) for the night.  She was supposed to surprise me, and I was.  We haven't seen each other in a while and it was so nice of her to prepare dinner for the two of us.  And the picnic idea was good.  It was nice just to relax and have a nice talk since we haven't done that in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, have I mentioned how much I hate my computer?  It freezes every 5 seconds!  Okay, maybe not, but you get the idea.  Earlier, I was just changing my template and my computer froze about 7 times!!!  I'm seriously considering returning it but I've had it for 2 years now and I think I only took the 1-year warranty.  And do you know if you have to register the product in order to get full service?  It's just so frustrating when you're in the middle of something and the computer suddenly crashes on you.  I have an HP computer, now I don't know if I'm buying any HP products in the near future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-80512144?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80512144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80512144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80512144' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-80381059</id><published>2002-08-18T01:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-18T01:36:34.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Road Test and a Picnic&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went for my G license on Friday.  Those who live in Ontario and are familiar about the graduated licensing we have here may understand what it is.  I passed, thank God, because I wouldn't pay another $75 to schedule another road test.  After that, I brought G.C. and her sister G.C. (they have the same initials) to this buffet place for lunch.  When the younger G.C. learned that it was too expensive for her taste, she was like "I'm not paying ___ for that!"  HELLO!  I didn't drive all the way there so we could go home hungry.  And she's so willing to spend anything on her other friends (READ: cult friends).  She's so annoying sometimes.  We ended up eating there anyway, but the older G.C. was a little sick to eat anything.  I felt almost sorry for myself for bringing them there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we went to STC and we saw S.M.'s friends from Chicago.  I drove them to S.M.'s place while the younger G.C. went downtown because they have a cult meeting (LOL).  Me and the older G.C. visited J.B. and her baby.  He's so cute!  It's still hard to believe that she, of all people, had a baby since she used to preach abstinence all the time.  It's really ironic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to pick up my mom at the dentist's place, and then got a call from S.M. to ask if I wanted to go clubbing with her friends from Chicago.  We ended up at this strip club kinda far away from where we live.  They pitched in to get a lapdance for her friend's boyfriend.  This couple had a fight before we headed home so we waited a while for them to patch things up.  I ended up driving the van home, and I was sleepy so we made a couple of wrong turns but it was all good.  To sum it up, I'm never going back to a strip club EVER again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was a picnic reunion for my dad's old friends.  It was scorching hot so thank god we had it in the backyard of somebody's house, so I stayed mostly indoors.  I even took a nap while the kids were playing and wrestling around me.  It's funny to go to one of those picnics.  The parents have all the fun while they brag about their houses, cars, and children to each other, while we, the children talk awkwardly with each other.  After the picnic we went to visit my parents' friends.  I went along because I like them and their eldest daughter was my childhood friend.  They moved far so we didn't really see each other while we were growing up, so I'm always excited to see her to see how she's grown up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's a recap of Friday and Saturday.  Bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-80381059?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80381059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80381059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80381059' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-80251051</id><published>2002-08-14T19:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-14T19:37:52.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Cult &amp; Shopping&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back from shopping with G.C.  I really enjoy her company.  She's a member of that cult, but she's different from those people.  She doesn't seem too happy in it, but I don't want to pull her away from it because they might forbid her to hang out with me.  Yes, I know.  They're that controlling.  I don't think she'll last with them, though.  I think she'll get fed up with their brainwashing and their ridiculous rules.  I'm just waiting for her to realize that "they" are not as holy as they they want people to believe.  I'm just waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went to this factory outlet at Woodbine/Hwy 7, and we weren't paying attention to the road because we were talking about her church dilemma, and we were in Richmond Hill by the time we realized that we were lost.  That was okay, though.  That was a nice talk we had about her church and their evildoings (lol).  After shopping, we ate at a nearby Chinese mall and these two guys asked for our numbers but we gave them an e-mail address instead.  Something that I'm pretty sure they won't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to K.R. last night.  She's moving here in 2 weeks!!!  I can't wait.  My friends have only met her when she was here on vacation for a week, and they loved her!  Yes, she's that likeable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-80251051?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80251051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80251051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80251051' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-80208662</id><published>2002-08-13T20:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-13T20:45:37.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Computer Virus and Late Lunch&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my computer is almost back to normal.  I had a day off today (actually for the rest of the week), and I woke up with a message from G.C. on MSN.  She wanted to send me the pictures from last Friday.  Okay.  I trusted her files.  But when I clicked on the 'open', nothing happened so I went to the main folder.  Lo and behold, I realized that it was a virus and it has already infected my Windows.  I was PISSED.  I just re-formatted the whole thing a little over a month ago, and here's another virus.  G.C. was probably just trying to be nice to me since she screwed up the night before, but now she has screwed up even more.  One more strike and she's out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's okay, I've calmed down now.  After all, I just wasted my day off trying to fix my computer.  I've re-formatted it again, but it's hard to recover everything.  I lost my mp3's :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made lunch for myself today.  I was really proud.  Mashed potato, corn, and spring rolls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-80208662?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80208662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80208662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80208662' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-80161472</id><published>2002-08-12T20:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-12T20:32:25.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Cancelled Plans&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sh it.  Sorry about the language but I'm pissed off right now.  I hate it when people make plans with you and they make another appointment on top of that and they expect you to wait.  Okay, here.  My friend G.C. invited me to her house after work today.  She phoned me at work and I told her that I had to do some business at home first, and then I would go to her house after.  Fine, she said.  When I called to tell her I was on my way, she was in another town 20 minutes away from where she lives.  WTF?  And she told me to just follow them there.  WTF?  First of all, that was NOT the original plan.  Secondly, SHE was the one who invited me to her house and if she wanted to go somewhere else why didn't she call me?  ARGGGHHHH.  I feel like I just wasted my Monday night.  Don't you hate it when you have everything planned and some inconsiderate person just ruins it for you?  ARGGGHHHHH!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that's enough bitchin'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-80161472?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80161472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80161472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80161472' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-80124711</id><published>2002-08-12T00:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-12T01:00:26.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Another Week, Another Template&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to &lt;a href="http://www.blogskins.com"&gt;blogskins.com&lt;/a&gt; to look for another template, but nothing satisfied me.  Some of the codes there were pretty messed up.  I discovered that the sample template from blogger are the best in terms of readability and design.  So I'm content to use their template until I find time to make one of my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn.  I wanted to see the meteor showers tonight.  I hate city lights.  They're just too... too... bright, duh.  I don't see a single star in the sky.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today (Sunday), I went shopping with G.C. and S.M..  I tried on 4 pair of pants and two tops, and I ended up buying just a pair of pants.  I think my spending habits have gone down to a minimum.  Is this a sign of maturity or just a sign of bankruptcy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-80124711?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80124711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80124711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80124711' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-80085677</id><published>2002-08-10T23:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-12-03T11:26:27.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Clubs and Babies&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm.  I got a phone call from a friend.  Well, he's not exactly a friend, more like a person you just hang out with.  He asked if I wanted to go clubbing.  Obviously since I'm writing this blog now, I said no.  The reason is, I'm kind of getting sick of the club scene now.  It's all so fake.  I've heard it somewhere: &lt;i&gt;Life is too short to go clubbing&lt;/i&gt;.  It makes sense.  I mean, I guess it's okay if you go once in a while, but if that's what you look forward too every week, then it becomes a problem.  There are other things that are much more important and worthwhile than wasting your time and money on clubs (that includes cover charges, alcohol, etc.).  And there are far better places to meet people if that's the only reason why you go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was N.A.'s baby shower today.  My gawd, she's gotten so big.  I still haven't accepted the fact that she's having a baby.  I still remember when we were young and naive and when we didn't know anything.  She's still a baby herself, for gawd's sake.  I can't even imagine myself having one.  I love babies 'cuz they're so cute, but I know once I get tired admiring them I could always return them to their mothers.  But if you have one of your own, then you're stuck with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Beware&lt;br /&gt;I bear more grudges &lt;br /&gt;Than lonely high court judges &lt;br /&gt;When you sleep &lt;br /&gt;I will creep &lt;br /&gt;Into your thoughts &lt;br /&gt;Like a bad debt &lt;br /&gt;That you can't pay &lt;br /&gt;Take the easy way &lt;br /&gt;And give in &lt;br /&gt;Yeah, and let me in&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-80085677?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80085677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/80085677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80085677' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-79964785</id><published>2002-08-07T23:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T17:19:34.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Every heartbeat bears your name, loud and clear they stake my claim...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today at work, one of the fieldpeople brought his son while he picked up some of his stuff at the office.  He (the son) was kind of shy at first and he wasn't talking.  But he quickly overcame his shyness and I found him really fun to talk to.  He would say the funniest things.  We really hit it off because we could talk about anything and everything.  His jokes were really funny and he made me laugh the whole time.  I noticed how beautiful his eyes were.  And how cute he smiled when he told stories.  I didn't want him to go because he made my job fun.  I didn't really care when work was piling up because he was just so fun to talk to.  I would've asked him to go to the office everyday but I knew he couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, he's only 4 : )&lt;br /&gt;What were you guys thinking?!?!?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awwww... but he's really adorable!  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-79964785?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79964785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79964785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79964785' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-79873301</id><published>2002-08-05T23:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-05T23:20:46.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;The Long Weekend&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got back today from my Dad's place up north.  It's sooo nice there.  He's been living there for about 2 years now and that was the first time I've visited him there.  I purposely left my bathing suit so I wouldn't get near the water because I'm already tanned and I didn't want to get any darker.  Well, I was under the sun for a total of maybe about an hour and I'm toasted black.  Grrrr.  Now I've got sore shoulders and bright red legs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really the type of person who expresses her feelings, but I really miss my Dad.  I just feel like I don't see enough of him.  Right now I'm really having a hard time trying to write what I really feel, but there are no words to explain it.  We have a weird relationship.  If you're an outsider, you would think that I'm cool with him.  I mean, we're not exactly the best of friends and I feel sad not having him around.  Yes, I love my Dad, but you know how you hate your Dad sometimes because of his strict rules and endless preaching.  But he's not like that.  I hate him for giving too much attention to me.  But I love him.  It hurts me sometimes because I don't know if he knows that I care.  But I do.  There.  Enough of this because I don't want to start crying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-79873301?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79873301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79873301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79873301' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-79723881</id><published>2002-08-02T02:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-12-03T14:07:56.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Ethan Hawke Pt. 2&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up going to Ethan Hawke's book reading.  Funny man.  Really nice guy.  Uma's really lucky.  [Picture on the left is courtesy of &lt;a href="http://www.ashwednesday.co.uk/"&gt;http://www.ashwednesday.co.uk/&lt;/a&gt;]GC came down so we could have a nice walk downtown.  It was so hot that by the time we found a place to eat, my pants were sticking to my legs and my underwear is sitting across the middle of my butt.  Call me crazy but I still ordered noodles.  I put too much hot sauce that my nose was running by the time I was finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm home and I'm not even packed yet.  We're going to visit my Dad up north.  Yay!  Three days without my beloved computer.  My only remaining best friend.  Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my 7th template in two weeks.  First off, I'm too lazy to customize something on my own.  Okay, fine, I admit it!  I don't know how but I don't want to waste my time worrying about those stuff.  Why make one when there are many skins available for you to download.  With just a click of the mouse (or two, or three), you get your blog a brand-new look, courtesy of &lt;a href="http://www.blogskins.com"&gt;blogskin&lt;/a&gt; and of course, blogger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-79723881?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79723881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79723881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79723881' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-79672584</id><published>2002-08-01T00:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-01T00:26:58.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Ethan Hawke and Cults&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, i have this ticket to the Ethan Hawke reading at the LKTYP on Front Street.  My friend S got it for me since she works at Harbourfront Centre, but now I don't really feel like going (it's tomorrow, which is technically today).  I've been calling my friends to see if they wanted the ticket, but they already made plans.  :( sucks.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the subject of cults was again discussed during dinner with a friend.  I can't believe how stupid people can be.  I have friends who converted to another religion but I'm more comfortable calling it a cult.  You should see the way they try to brainwash my friends.  I having nothing against any organized religion, but I went to one of their weekly meetings and I saw red flags that told me to keep away.  First of all, they call their people "disciples" and the other people "world people."  They are not allowed to date outside of their religion, but they do find weekly dates with their fellow disciples a must.  Mind you, this is not your ordinary date thing, but rather, it is a group date in order to "resist temptation."  Anyway, the whole dating aspect of their religion is too complicated to explain here.  What bugs me the most is that they think they are the only ones who are going to heaven.  WTF?!?!?  They haven't even been around for 30 years, so who populated heaven before they were formed?  There are other little things that irks me I just don't remember them right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-79672584?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79672584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79672584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79672584' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-79622951</id><published>2002-07-30T23:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-12-03T17:35:52.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;W.N.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever wondered what could've been if you just had the courage to do something that you don't normally would do?  I know I'm not making any sense right now.  Lately, ever since my uncle phoned me and told me that he works with W.N., I just can't get him out of my mind... W.N. I mean.  He's probably the dumbest guy I know.  I gave him all the signs, and I don't know if he just didn't like me or if he was just plain stupid.  It's weird because he's not really my type, but you know when you just enjoy being with someone that you want to see him everyday and be with him forever.  He made me laugh with his stupid jokes and made me hate him because of the stupid stuff he would do to me.  But even with all the stupid stuff he did, I still loved him for being stupid.  I just couldn't bring myself to tell him that.  Well, if you're wondering what happened, he confided to my friend that I was such a good friend to him that it was wrong to date me.  WHATEVER!  Yes, we were friends, but we weren't THAT close.  Well, after all these years, congratulations W.N. because I still think about you. You just keep coming back.  I don't have any romantic feelings for you anymore, but oh man, we would've made a cute couple!  HA HA HA....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I've always been in love with you &lt;br /&gt;I guess you've always known it's true &lt;br /&gt;You took my love for granted, why oh why&lt;br /&gt;The show is over, say good-bye&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-79622951?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79622951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79622951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79622951' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-79581092</id><published>2002-07-30T00:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-01T00:28:09.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;McDonald's and Boring Summer&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My day (monday) was a fairly normal one.  The only weird part is when I was buying breakfast at a local McDonald's.  I was on my way to work and decided to get something to eat before heading to work.  Well, this guy I went to high school with was also there, and I was really surprised when he approached me and started talking to me.  See, he was one of those I'm-so-cool-to-talk-to-you guys, and I was this shy kid in high school.  So when he approached me, I just smiled at him.  First words that came out of his mouth: "Hey give me your number I wanna call you up."  I mean, WTF?  I see he hasn't changed much.  He thinks he can whatever he wants, whenever he wants it.  I was kind of pissed by his attitude, and I just tried to ignore him.  He walked away pissed, but I was satisfied by his disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to work as usual, and went home and waited for GC and CV to come over.  It was nice seeing my two girlfriends again, since we haven't talked in a while.  I miss my friends.  This summer is a weird one.  Whereas last summer was fun and crazy, this one is almost lifeless and dragging forever.  I don't want to go back to school where endless problem sets and long labs await me, but I feel like I'm wasting away my summer because everyday is becoming a routine.  So predictable.  I miss the spontaneity of summer 2001.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-79581092?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79581092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79581092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79581092' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-79519336</id><published>2002-07-28T16:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-01T00:28:36.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;World Youth Day&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got back an hour ago from the Papal Mass at Downsview Park.  We left our house at 4AM, which I thought was really early so I didn't expect a lot of people on the subway ride there.  Well, it turned out that the commute there is worse than rush hour in the morning on my way to school downtown.  Maybe 3 times the number of people, and at 4AM!!!  Anyway, we got to the actual site and we had trouble finding a good spot.  We settled into an empty spot near the sides but this girl told us that it was actually her space and she slept there blah blah blah, so we walked a little further until we found another spot.  Since we didn't want another person to kick us out again, my parents were talking how the people behind us might get mad.  It turned out that the people (they're pilgrims from Vancouver) overheard us and told us that it was okay if we sat there, and so we did.  My mom and her friend T had a chat with the girl, and she was really nice to them.  She is looking for work and is thinking of staying in Toronto, and so my mom and her friend, who are both caught up in the mood of charity and spirituality, offered the girl to stay with them while trying to settle in.  Nice (sarcasm).  It's not that I didn't like the girl, but it was kinda annoying that the way they were trying to be nice.  Anyway, enough about her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, since we had 2 hours to kill before the Papal Mass, I tried to take a nap (sitting down because the grass was wet), but it was impossible with the noises all around me.  A few minutes after the mass started, I found someone (finally)!  P.S.!!!  I haven't seen him for so loooong!  So at least I had someone to chat with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ride home was what ruined my day.  These two dickheads were being annoying, and they were making fun of us (me and my entourage) because they were right in front of the doors, and obviously you should move down the train to let more people in.  They were mocking us when we told them to move down, and I got really pissed, and it didn't help that I ended up standing behind them and these brats were pushing people and they "accidentally" pushed me.  What made things worse was when this poor Chinese girl had to fight her way out when the train reached her stop.  She was yelling in her tiny voice, "I have to get off!" and these ding-dongs mocked her and said, "Go Jacky Chan!"  I mean, what the frig?  Ignorant brats.  Grrrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, putting that aside, I really enjoyed my day today, and I'm glad I went to the Mass.  I know it's corny, but I'm really proud to be part of this great religion.  For the past year, the subject of religion within my friends has caused such a controversy that it really divided us into two:  The cult people and the non-cult people.  I'm glad I have resisted their love-bombing and I can't help but feel disaapointed that they were easily brainwashed by those people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was reading the news, and I came across this post on &lt;b&gt;&lt;a href="http://cbc.ca/news/features/wyd/interact.html"&gt;http://cbc.ca/news/features/wyd/interact.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;If tolerance is truly a part of your message, please demonstrate that most important of virtues today. STOP the persecution of women, homosexuals, and religious minorities. Tell your followers that it is OK to be gay. That it is OK to take control of their own reproductive systems. Remind them that Jesus was NOT the first Christian, that he was the Jewish son of Jewish parents.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was initially appalled by the direct attack on the catholic faith by the poster, specifically to the pope.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those hard-core religious freaks, but I do believe that the presence of the Pope in Toronto has made an impact on youths and adults alike.  Well, I found this other article on another website which I think pretty much answers the post above:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.canada.com/national/features/worldyouth/story.html?id={8BF8A909-FF7F-41AA-AC74-73732437805D}"&gt;&lt;b&gt;http://www.canada.com/&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-79519336?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79519336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79519336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79519336' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-79482988</id><published>2002-07-27T15:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-27T15:45:06.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;3 hours later&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how fast I update this?  Well, in that three hours, I've done a lot of things.  I did the dishes that my parents left for me because they had this volunteer appointment for WYD.  I am almost done my 2-weeks worth of laundry, and while I wait for the last load, I am now updating this.  I'm still trying to decide if I want to go to T.H.'s bbq, but that means seeing the cult people.  Hmmm, I'll see what my mood is at around 6pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned a sad news today.  About an hour ago, a friend from school phoned me.  Actually, he called to ask if I could come out today, but I'm not really feeling him (if you know what I mean).  Anyway, one of his friends from school died on Wednesday.  I really couldn't remember who he was, but I remember how R mentioned that he had a heart surgery and how he was the fragile one in their group.  I hope his soul R.I.P.  I feel sorry for his family and friends because he was so young and had such a bright future ahead of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.  That's what happened in a span of 3 hours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-79482988?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79482988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79482988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79482988' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3665383.post-79477537</id><published>2002-07-27T12:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-01T00:28:57.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;First Entry&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello!  I guess this is my very first entry.  Cool.  I don't really know how this thing works so i'm still trying to get a feel for this.  [minutes later]... I tried to view my web page, and it says that the page could not be found.  According to blogspot, they are having major problems with their server so i guess i'm just gonna have to wait until they get it fixed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, let me just tell you on what's been happening in my life lately.  Well, the Pope is here in Toronto because it's WORLD YOUTH DAY.  I kinda feel bad that I'm not participating in any of the events other than the papal mass on Sunday, which is tomorrow.  With all the hype surrounding the event, it's hard not to feel out of place, but I didn't like it when my parents and my parents's friends were asking me to volunteer.  It should be something that you decide to do, I didn't want to feel that I was forced to do it, so I just decided not to do it.  And of course, I wouldn't really know anyone if I did decide to join.  I'm not a church-active person and most of my friends are in a cult.  And that's another thing that is bothering me.  My friend (she's in the cult) told me that she doesn't understand what this big hoopla is about.  She thinks it's just the Pope.  Well, let me tell you missy... do you even know who your cult leader is?  No?  Well, shut up then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, I got my report card yesterday : )  Well, I've known my marks since two weeks after exams, but the letter was just a formality.  Let's just say I'm extremely happy with what I saw on the paper.  I couldn't believe it when I saw my rank.  Rank 10 baby!  Well, there's a lot to consider.  1st semester it was out of 50 students, and 2nd semester was out of 56 students.  Funny, cuz I could've sworn there was more in our class.  Maybe they didn't count the people in the enviro option.  Yeah, I guess they have their own little group.  Regardless, I'm still satisfied because I know my hardwork paid off.  Imagine not going out on a Friday night so you could finish your Fluid Mechanics problem set.  Or staying up late on a Saturday night not because you went clubbing, but because you have to finish your lab report.  Urghh!  Thinking of those days makes me sick.  I can't wait until I get out of university.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3665383-79477537?l=182290.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79477537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3665383/posts/default/79477537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://182290.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79477537' title=''/><author><name>M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16326985003193586928</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
