<?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-28989241</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:51:00.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be maturely wild at heart</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anne</name><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>79</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-1764608036328661645</id><published>2007-06-02T01:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-02T02:30:43.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Goodbye!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've moved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://thetenthcircle.livejournal.com"&gt;Click here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-1764608036328661645?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/1764608036328661645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=1764608036328661645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1764608036328661645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1764608036328661645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/06/goodbye-ive-moved.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-7219829793297353611</id><published>2007-06-01T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T09:07:10.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RmBCbJjGSiI/AAAAAAAAABU/58XZ6XMS8UE/s1600-h/DSC00044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071126214606211618" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RmBCbJjGSiI/AAAAAAAAABU/58XZ6XMS8UE/s320/DSC00044.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAROLINE :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;align="center"&gt;&lt;align="center"&gt;Actually on 31 May, but anyway.&lt;br /&gt;My friend who sees my the most stupid stuff, and uh, ignores me.&lt;br /&gt;Which makes me feel so much dumber.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I can't figure if she's 6 or 16.&lt;br /&gt;And the gossips and stories we tell each other in the toilet during tuition.&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what to say.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, uh, wait for my present.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-7219829793297353611?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/7219829793297353611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=7219829793297353611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/7219829793297353611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/7219829793297353611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/06/happy-birthday-caroline-actually-on-31.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RmBCbJjGSiI/AAAAAAAAABU/58XZ6XMS8UE/s72-c/DSC00044.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-8691772718452336009</id><published>2007-05-24T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T09:00:31.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RlWwBErm8oI/AAAAAAAAABM/4jcdT94_y7M/s1600-h/DSCF0416.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068150488158368386" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RlWwBErm8oI/AAAAAAAAABM/4jcdT94_y7M/s320/DSCF0416.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The very Lovely Executive Council of 2006-2007&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt; Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span &gt;Guys, it has been amazing working with you all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;From Teachers' Day Celebration, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;right up to Executive Council Camp that's yet to come, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;we have wonderful memories. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It would be sad to know that our journey as council members have ended, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but smile because we can now concentrate on our O' Levels, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;smile because we know that memories will be with us, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;smile because we met each other,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;smile because we have each other.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And would I ever forget, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Catholic Activities Council of 2006-2007 :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The breakfast we had during fellowship, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The running around,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The staying in school til late on Canossian Saints' Day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You guys are awesome :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The bunch who seem to accept everyone for just the way they are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Love you guys!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I will definitely miss being in council.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Every inch of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-8691772718452336009?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/8691772718452336009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=8691772718452336009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/8691772718452336009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/8691772718452336009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/05/very-lovely-executive-council-of-2006.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RlWwBErm8oI/AAAAAAAAABM/4jcdT94_y7M/s72-c/DSCF0416.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-1764116225201295398</id><published>2007-05-13T09:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T09:16:07.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/Rkc1_KaUspI/AAAAAAAAABE/tMPzrXUUo-g/s1600-h/29700867862299l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064075665244205714" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/Rkc1_KaUspI/AAAAAAAAABE/tMPzrXUUo-g/s320/29700867862299l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY S-H-A-R-R-O-N :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Super Study Buddy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Super When-Anne-Doesn't-Know-What-To-Do Buddy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Super Smile Maker.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My Super Friend who laughs at my dumb jokes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That is S-H-A-R-R-O-N for you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And Shar, I hope you realise I just spelt your name out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh my golly wow, you have no idea how much you mean to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You make 72 buses fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your stupid answers/ questions tickle me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You make me feel like a child, but you make me feel so mature too, like how I always play with kids around me, and then be all, theorified the next.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Since it's your birthday, we shall take a picture with one of the cows during the June holidays, if there are anymore of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If not, we'll go to New Zealand/ Australia/America, when we're older and you can take pictures with all the cows. HAHAHA :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let's go on a holiday together when we're older. It's a promise :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let's go global shopping. &lt;strong&gt;WOW.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe, when I'm rich and famous. HAHAHA :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But for this June Holiday, &lt;/div&gt;I really want a new pair of &lt;strong&gt;sunglasses.&lt;/strong&gt; I wanted the heart-shaped sunglasses from Mango, but I laughed everytime I looked at it, because it reminded me of cartoons, when one of the characters fall in love with the other, they get heart-shaped eyes. And I also want to get a nice &lt;strong&gt;faded denim skirt.&lt;/strong&gt; And, I would definitely want a new&lt;strong&gt; bag,&lt;/strong&gt; and a&lt;strong&gt; pair of shoes/slippers.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We'll go shopping this June, okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Happy Sweet Sixteen, Love &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-1764116225201295398?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/1764116225201295398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=1764116225201295398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1764116225201295398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1764116225201295398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/05/happy-birthday-s-h-r-r-o-n-my-super.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/Rkc1_KaUspI/AAAAAAAAABE/tMPzrXUUo-g/s72-c/29700867862299l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-3450790940393238632</id><published>2007-05-10T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T07:25:28.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RkMqXaaUsoI/AAAAAAAAAA8/83fyYiClBYE/s1600-h/DSCF1181.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062936987809657474" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RkMqXaaUsoI/AAAAAAAAAA8/83fyYiClBYE/s320/DSCF1181.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gladly welcome, TYRA LEONI on May 6, 2007 :D&lt;br /&gt;Such a sweeeeeeeetheart &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to fail my MYEs really badly. I wouldn't exactly want to complain about my exams, because honestly, it's MY fault. It's MY fault that I didn't study hard enough. It's MY fault that I didn't start studying early. And it's no use sulking and making me feel like crap anymore, because I know how my June Holidays will be like. No shopping. Study, study, study. And I'm not saying this to make myself feel better now, but I've even done up a plan, and a list of notes to be done by June. Oh my gosh. Honestly, the papers were not difficult if I had been more focused, and had studied harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chinese O'Levels in TWOOOOOO Weeks. I have to be cheeeeena, and mug. I can't believe I just said that. But do I have a choice, I still have to do my best, in case i need it for my L1R5. RAHHHHH. Let's study. No, seriously, let's study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANNE, PLEASEEEE WAKE UP.&lt;br /&gt;BAHHHHHHHH.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-3450790940393238632?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/3450790940393238632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=3450790940393238632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/3450790940393238632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/3450790940393238632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-gladly-welcome-tyra-leoni-on-may-6.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RkMqXaaUsoI/AAAAAAAAAA8/83fyYiClBYE/s72-c/DSCF1181.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-3240988856095636464</id><published>2007-04-27T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T08:49:59.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm proud of myself :D&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been very focused lately, so 3 cheers and 3 cheers and 3 cheers for me! :) I don't think I've done that much revision in a week. Plus, tuition! I now have E Math, A Math, English, Biology and Chemistry. It seems like I'm proud to have tuition. Haha, it pushes me. Yayness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I really don't know what to do with my future, my conclusion is, to work really hard for O Levels, do my best, get it done, go on a blue-sky holiday, and then decide when the results come out. I don't care already. Thinking and talking about my future, of what JC is wasting my time. I know what I want anyway, and it's not very assuring. Priorities or Passion? I don't care, whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom promised to take me to BANGKOK after O Levels :DDDD.&lt;br /&gt;I promised myself to go to America to study. But, I need to save up first :) But hey, I have a US$150 voucher on tickets (to travel) because of my wonderful complaint letter, yaynesssss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Studying with Sharron tomorrow. I'm not going to talk until I finish 2 chapters. I'm very strict with myself now, or else NO RETAIL THERAPY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SPC asked if I have common sense the other day. This is the part where you go, "WHAT THE HELL."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Turtlethel!"&lt;br /&gt;"Is this the part where I go EEW? Oh, that's my cue. EEW."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOOOOOOOOD WEEEK.&lt;br /&gt;OH! Before I end this, read Chrystal's blog. She mentioned me. No la, it's a funny entry. To add on, I was tearing when I saw the person's atrocious ass-crack. It was gross.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-3240988856095636464?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/3240988856095636464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=3240988856095636464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/3240988856095636464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/3240988856095636464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/04/im-proud-of-myself-d-ive-been-very.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-1095618840640012002</id><published>2007-04-24T23:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T08:24:27.624-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>24 April 2007, 0001 hours, Anne's house,&lt;br /&gt;"Shit, ABIGAIL." Her eyes opened so wide, it was as if her eyeballs could come out. It's the results, she thought.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not ready! I'm not ready! Don't tell me! Shut up!"&lt;br /&gt;"ANNNNNNNEEEE! We got a {Pause} *vulgarity censored* GOLDDDDD!"&lt;br /&gt;"AAHHHHH!"&lt;br /&gt;And there was a rumour that I cried, but I was ecstatic, never been in such a great mood for a very very very longggggg time. Maybe since my birthday :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOLD.&lt;br /&gt;A flipping GOLD. I can't believe COP came into my mind. It felt like a silver, but knowing that's it's a shiny shimmering GOLD just makes me feel dreamy. Last night, I was wondering if I was falling in love. You know, how it's like? You start smiling to yourself everywhere, everytime. I'm in an amazing mood that I had such a great time in class with Amanda.&lt;br /&gt;"Dance like you've never danced before!"&lt;br /&gt;"Eh, if she dance like she's never danced before, then how would she know how to dance."&lt;br /&gt;And there's more. And all the poppy M&amp;M's. Ahhh, it's a goooood day. It was coolness, when Mrs Joseph ignored us when we were making so much noise, right under her nose. And when they announced it, we practically jumped up before they asked us toooo! And we were cheering and jumping so much, for, uh, umm, ourselves! The whole thing was just so dramatic, with touch of bimbo-ness, and a whole spoonful of LOVE! I will never forget the night, nor will I forget the experience right from the auditions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after school, it was really funny. The whole class, except 11 of us stayed for Biology. Make that 9, because Maxine and Melanie went for their Science Competition. It was a TWOT. In short for, TOTAL WASTE OF TIME. It was pointless. Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOLD, baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome day, oui? Oui!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-1095618840640012002?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/1095618840640012002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=1095618840640012002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1095618840640012002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1095618840640012002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/04/24-april-2007-0001-hours-annes-house.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-1033414783678470059</id><published>2007-04-19T20:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T05:29:20.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Stressed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'm really stressed. Anytime, anytime now, I'm going to snap again.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to do after O's, I really want to know what to go far, just in case I want to use Direct School Admission. What am I talking about, I feel like I'm not studying hard enough. And what am I doing? I am sitting in front of the laptop, BLOGGING. This is not working out. I might close this down, or I could just not blog for a really really longggggg time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Guitar Ensemble got Gold with Honours, I was so happy and proud of them, and there was a sudden wave of depression. I feel like crap all over again. Results out next week. This is not good, not good at all. I won't be able to concentrate on my studies. Even so, I'm so proud of Guitar Ensemble! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going on hiatus.&lt;br /&gt;Till then,&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-1033414783678470059?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/1033414783678470059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=1033414783678470059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1033414783678470059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1033414783678470059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/04/stressed.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-8024368895075414374</id><published>2007-04-13T09:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T09:07:15.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I never thought I could cry so much in &lt;s&gt;one week&lt;/s&gt; three days. It's been a horribly emotional week. I don't think I did much but cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drama, baby!&lt;br /&gt;In Secondary One, I didn't get into Drama. And I got into Guitar. Honestly, it was quite reluctant to join Guitar because I knew there was no way I could survive four years. And that lead to trying to console myself, by motivating myself to be like my favourite boyband. But I guess it failed. In April, just before Exam Break, I remember requesting to be transferred to another CCA, obviously Drama. I had to go through another round of auditions, held by Amber. And I recall her saying, "If I had to choose between the both of you, I would choose you." Instantly, I knew I would get in. True enough, I did. I had a really hard time at first, because I didn't really like the people there, and vice versa. And I remember, one of which is ABI. And I can't believe how that happened. As time went by, I guess in Secondary Three, being in the same class, the same play, The Anklet, we kinda got closer. And even closer because of SYF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will miss all the improvisation games.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss all the warm-ups.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss Joy's, "ANNE! ARE YOU TAKING FOURTEEN?!"&lt;br /&gt;I will miss Abi's, " WHAT, SHE DIDN'T COME AGAIN?" But not the string of vulgarties following it.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss all the rushing every monday. After school, council meeting, tutorial, and Drama.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss, "ABI! HURRY UP! WE'RE LATE!"&lt;br /&gt;I will miss, Abi's reply, "WAIT! WHAT HOMEWORK DO WE HAVE?!"&lt;br /&gt;I will miss, Nicole Shaan's ,"HI NIT!"&lt;br /&gt;I will miss Abu's "HEY SEXY!"&lt;br /&gt;I will miss Rosy's BIG butt.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss Suzlynn's hair.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss talking with Jill in tagalog, and no one understands!&lt;br /&gt;I will miss Miss Chen's ,"Girls, when a teacher comes into a class what do you do?"&lt;br /&gt;I will miss closing the partition.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss "You have two minutes to run to the canteen, get your food, and be back here." during SYF.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss the games.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss the " DRAMA! THIS IS NOT A CIRCLE!"&lt;br /&gt;I will miss the "CIRCLE PEOPLE! CIRCLE!"&lt;br /&gt;I will miss the " SHUT UP!"&lt;br /&gt;I will miss Bob scaring the helloutof me.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss standing in between people who like to talk so much.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss, the good long half an hour breaks we used to have.&lt;br /&gt;I will miss coming back for CCA during the holidays.&lt;br /&gt;You know what, the list is so long. I WILL MISS DRAMA. I think that would do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought that this day would come so quickly. It was awful. Everyone cried their hearts out today. I never thought that Drama meant that much to me. I'm so glad, that I made that decision to follow my heart, my passion. I &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y &lt;/span&gt;DRAMA. It's a part of me, even if I'm not a part of the CCA anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always in my heart, Drama.&lt;br /&gt;Always in my heart and soul, the passion for acting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span &gt;I thank each and everyone of you, from the first batch of Drama seniors I had, to the last batch of Drama juniors I have. You guys are awesome. I LOVE YOU ALL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-8024368895075414374?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/8024368895075414374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=8024368895075414374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/8024368895075414374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/8024368895075414374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-never-thought-i-could-cry-so-much-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-1126727237477503715</id><published>2007-04-12T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T04:56:36.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've let you down, but most importantly, I've let myself down. This is &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;depressing.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; I don't think I have ever been so disappointed with myself, &lt;strong&gt;EVER.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to lie to myself, or to us, that we did well. We may have done good, but we could have been better. Better, does not mean, getting a gold instead of a silver, or whatsoever. Because to me, it's not because of that medal anymore. We could have been better if we were more focused, actually know who to follow, and be more professional. Days before SYF, I still didn't know who to follow. RAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I can make myself say, "I'm sorry, that was my best." when the results come out, because in me, I know clearly, that was not my best. Unlike other CCAs, who know they have done their best, enjoyed that few minutes, I can't, because it was not my best. I know I should let go, because there's nothing I can do now. But, it is not that easy, I may not think of it, but I feel it. I feel the disappointment, the regret if I ever not put in my 100%, the fact that I can't turn back time, and enjoy that moment. To think, before that, I was tearing, not because I was nervous, but because I was so happy, to actually have the oppurtunity to be on that stage, under that limelight. When I had the confidence, I had to screw up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I'm proud of myself, like people say they are proud of me. Inside me, that feeling is going to haunt me, the disappointment in myself. It's like all of a sudden, I couldn't see WHY I even got into Drama, I doubted myself because of the disappointment I feel for not being my best for that 20 minutes. I can't say, "Don't be disappointed, you've done your best!" BECAUSE LIKE I HAVE SAID, IT WAS NOT MY BEST.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is so painful. It's torturous. But &lt;strong&gt;THE PASSION&lt;/strong&gt; lives on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-1126727237477503715?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/1126727237477503715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=1126727237477503715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1126727237477503715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1126727237477503715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/04/ive-let-you-down-but-most-importantly.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-5738075739503294702</id><published>2007-04-08T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T00:32:47.501-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I promise I won't tell anyone about our love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April is such a stressful month. SYF is 3 days away, MYE is 22 days away, 2.4 is 6 days away, and I just had my Taekwondo Grading. If I may, I think I deserve a Double Promotion, compared to the other White Belts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SYF, like I said is in 3 days. I'm getting excited and all, and I believe that we can reach our fullest potential. Everyone's putting in thrice the effort after knowing, that Indian Dance has got Gold with Honours. The pressure is on. Some of us came back on Saturday voluntarily, to 'disect' our characters. And some of us even stayed till 7 on Thursday, to 'disect' our characters. I know, Juanita's getting all stressed with her character, but I think she's doing a very good job with it. In 3 days, after SYF, I will not be a part of SACDrama anymore, but they will be part of a beautiful memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.4, is in 6 days. I hope I improve, which I reckon I will! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye, loveeeee.&lt;br /&gt;Happy Easter!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-5738075739503294702?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/5738075739503294702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=5738075739503294702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/5738075739503294702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/5738075739503294702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-promise-i-wont-tell-anyone-about-our.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-375048445495294010</id><published>2007-04-01T02:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T11:31:26.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>While AudreyLiaw, Maxyne, Clarissa, Weelyn and Jo were in lovely Hawaii, enjoying the nice weather, the blue skies, the beautiful beaches, the room service, the good food, I am stuck in school, learning new things, and getting stressed. I was &lt;em&gt;enjoying&lt;/em&gt; my really bad week. Sounds great, eh? But, I had fun with Michelle and Ethel, although I felt a bit bimbo once in a while. Hahaha. A couple of secrets :D Ethel's really funny when she thinks someone's angry with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on, SYF is in 10 days. Which means, in 10 days, I would not have a CCA. Sounds great? Nope, not if you're CCA is Drama. I remember how I was rambling to a friend on Friday night about it. It's like, Drama has grown into me, Drama is in me, and is a part of me. And now, even if they give us extra SYF rehearsals, I wouldn't mind, because it's going to be the last few ): I mean, for 3 years, I have a CCA, and sooner or later I don't. My weeks will feel so empty without 6 hours of CCA per week. You must be thinking I'm nuts. But, my CCA is &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DRAMA!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's been very stressful. I've been trying to revise for the upcoming exams but I don't know where to start. I'm very scared, MYE's in just a few weeks. And there's just about 30 weeks to O' Levels. At the rate I'm going, my L1R5 will be sky high, and I wouldn't want that. Basically, last week, almost every teacher came in to our class, would be chasing us for our homework. And everyone is just overwhelmed by the workload, the notes, the thickness of our files. It's like, we get 2cm worth of notes/homework per week. And the thing is, they compare us to be previous batches of 4.6. But honestly, we are not alike. We have an extra subject, and it had to be Biology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And who I thought would understand, never understood. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Instead you vent your anger at me, like I'm your punching bag. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is it my fault that you're having a bad day? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't vent my anger on you when I'm having a bad day.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So who are you to vent yours on me? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Even if you're a good friend, good friends don't vent their anger at each other. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In fact they share their problems, so that the other would cheer them up.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You can ignore me for all I care, it's not like I'm ruining things.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RAHHHH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Friday night was awesome,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cheered me up to the max.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I think I was sleep-smiling, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;knowing that I have a friend like you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You just make it much better, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;when things couldn't get any worse.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I never expected that you are the one God sent, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;to cheer me up, anytime, anywhere.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You bringing me back to the green-er side,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;although I'm in the same place.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You are an awesome friend, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;LOVE!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to all the little tags encouraging me on my tagboard, cheena or not, Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing someoneeeeeee :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-375048445495294010?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/375048445495294010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=375048445495294010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/375048445495294010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/375048445495294010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/04/while-audreyliaw-maxyne-clarissa-weelyn.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-6759179704611721942</id><published>2007-03-29T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T05:55:37.252-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm torn between passion and priority,&lt;br /&gt;it's not even funny anymore.&lt;br /&gt;In fact, it's causing me a lot of stress.&lt;br /&gt;Really, I don't know where I'm heading to.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so scared, because I'm not stressed about my academics.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I'm making it sound as if I have to make a decision now,&lt;br /&gt;it's not as if I'm doing so well academically,&lt;br /&gt;that both SAJC and ACJC wants me.&lt;br /&gt;In fact I'm the one who wants them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking about it a lot, that it's not even funny anymore. It's probably the cause of the mood swings. I don't think I'm coping, and I get frequent thoughts of dropping Biology. But I believe I can still do Biology, by myself or with a tuition teacher. I'm getting worried about Chinese O' Levels, it's in less that 8 weeks. I hope I get a B3, and get it done. Get it off my head. Forget about Chinese for four months before O' Levels and concentrate on my Sciences, and History. 4.6 is actually doing more than 4.7, although they are a triple science class. Pretty much because combined subjects, are actually two subjects with combined marks, and tests less on applications. It's like, I'm taking 10 subjects. And I'm not very happy with my combined subjects, because in each combined subject, I can do well in one, and yet suck in the other. Safe combination, but very tough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know, I believe I can do this. I really do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-6759179704611721942?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/6759179704611721942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=6759179704611721942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/6759179704611721942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/6759179704611721942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/03/im-torn-between-passion-and-priority.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-8701075803003739182</id><published>2007-03-22T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T05:12:28.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And I will never attempt to walk with Sharron again. Shar and I tried to walk to Tampines, I suggested the "short cut" which I thought would actually take only 20 minutes. We were already at Tampines, but Shar saw this signboard that said SUNPLAZA or something like that, but she thought she saw some familiar buildings, ignored the signboard and walked a different direction. That was it, we were lost. We found ourselves near Saint Hilda's and by then, we have walked for at least 50 minutes. ACKKKKK. We finally decided to take a bus, and we finally reached Tampines. And Shar concluded it was a bad day.&lt;br /&gt;SHAR: Today is such a bad day.&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: Well, at least it didn't rain. If it rains, we wouldn't even be here yet.&lt;br /&gt;SHAR: If it rains, it would be worse than a bad day.&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: Yeah, it would be a&lt;strong&gt; rainy&lt;/strong&gt; day.&lt;br /&gt;Oh my mama! HAHAHA. Here's another one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHAR: She {blah blah blah} well la.&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: So well that she {blah blah blah blah}?&lt;br /&gt;SHAR: Okay, her {blah blah blah} is good.&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: That's worse than well.&lt;br /&gt;SHAR: How come?&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: WHY DO YOU THINK IT'S BETTER TO SEE WELL DONE THAN GOOD ON A TEST PAPER?! HAHAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhooooo, met up with Eli today after school. We had Subway (: She looks smarter in her new uniform. And then, I was thinking of Junior Colleges all over again. E&lt;strong&gt;S&lt;/strong&gt;S&lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt;YE&lt;strong&gt;J&lt;/strong&gt;AY&lt;strong&gt;C&lt;/strong&gt;EE, I want you. And then I want to join Amanda in America (: I want Stanford University, baby! I really hope I get some scholarship or my parents can actually afford Stanford. They said if I do well enough to get there, we'd probably move there. Hah, the future of my family in my hands. My life in God's hands!  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Concert Band's going to HAWAII tomorrow. I think I'm going to miss them ): What would it be like without calling Audrey an early bloomer? To have someone not do homework with me like Maxine? To have to tease Weelyn that she has fate with someone? To have Jo buying my Milo? To have Clarissa queueing up with me at Nasi Padang? I will miss them, I know I will. But I want something from Hawaii okayyyy! Please bring me a shirt/ a pair of shorts. And I will love you every single day. But I will love you more if you can hide me in your luggage, and take me away from schooooooool. I've been sucking up to Audrey all day. I really hope she gets me something :) Have a safe trip, lovelies! And bring me back something but shells, sand, air, and seawater, or the free toiletries from the hotel. HAHAHA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-8701075803003739182?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/8701075803003739182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=8701075803003739182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/8701075803003739182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/8701075803003739182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/03/and-i-will-never-attempt-to-walk-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-2137401591424944779</id><published>2007-03-17T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-17T03:35:10.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;March 15&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;entry.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/Rfi8ifMmKXI/AAAAAAAAAAo/Y4QZFqaIBmg/s1600-h/DSC00349.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041987083517176178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/Rfi8ifMmKXI/AAAAAAAAAAo/Y4QZFqaIBmg/s320/DSC00349.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I AM A HAPPY CHILD.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I thank you God, for letting me live to this day. Sixteen fruitful years, 192 fruitful months, 5844 fruitful days. Each day is spent with strength, wisdom, faith, and love, and family and friends, that added to the bowl of fun. No party for sweet sixteen, but it will be just as meaningful. It's not all about the party :D A sweet sixteen indeed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I went out with Deen and Shar yesterday. Too bad Caroline wasn't there, but I love her all the same :D At first, I was getting quite annoyed with Deen and Shar, because I didn't understand what was going on. I mean, all the gossips and stuff. It was as if I lived under a rock. And so I was quiet and felt quite uncomfortable. But, lovely Deen and lovely Shar, got me a slice of cake, and sang Happy Birthday, in an underpass! Oh my goodness, we were like a bunch of homeless orpans. It was loveeeeeeee :) Much love and thanks, you guys. And right below, is the cake they got.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/Rfi82vMmKYI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lrd9Uy2aDLo/s1600-h/DSC00403.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041987431409527170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/Rfi82vMmKYI/AAAAAAAAAAw/lrd9Uy2aDLo/s320/DSC00403.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Taekwondo, people there found it was my birthday today. So they sang me a song, in malay! Hahaha, that's cause they're malay. They're a fun bunch, awesome, I tell you. Much love and thanks to Ahmad, Daniel, Sarah, and uh, I forgot the strong kid's name. HAHA, oops.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And when it struck midnight, a whole bunch of smses came in. I had to pretend it was midnight for Abi. Okay, anyway, much love and thanks to Abigail, Eli, Tiffany, and Huang Chi and Amanda Loy. This morning, Abu, Jing Yin, Shafiqah, Natalie Koh, Clarissa, Weelyn, Maxine, Joan, Audrey Liaw, Petrina, Nicole, Rene, and Tessa Liang. And a lovely attempt to be last but failed, Caroline.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And of course, there was a few who were much advanced, and greeted me even before the day arrived. Much love and thanks to my grandparents, Aunt, and Beverly. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When there are those that are advanced, there are those who are late. But nevertheless, I love them all. Much love and thanks to, Genevieve, Glenda, Joy, Rosemarie, Dineesha, Amelyn, Rae, Chrystal, Yiggie, and Olivia.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And the lovely family, it's going to long. Much love, and thanks to Grandfather, Grandmother, Grandmother, Mom, Dad, Kevin, Justin, Aunt Mate, Aunt Vek, Uncle Paolo, Aunt Cecille, Uncle Manny, Abbie, AJ, Uncle Erwin, Aunt Diane, Paolo, Patrick, Michael, Matthew, Uncle Jun, Aunt Vangie, Carlos, Raphael, Gabriel, Uncle Arnold, Aunt Ivy, Debbie, Uncle Ed, and baby.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But on a whole, much love and thanks to:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;GOD.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Grandfather, Grandmother, Grandmother, Mom, Dad, Kevin, Justin, Aunt Mate, Aunt Vek, Uncle Paolo, Aunt Cecille, Uncle Manny, Abbie, AJ, Uncle Erwin, Aunt Diane, Paolo, Patrick, Michael, Matthew, Uncle Jun, Aunt Vangie, Carlos, Raphael, Gabriel, Uncle Arnold, Aunt Ivy, Debbie, Uncle Ed, and baby, Caroline, Denise, Sharron, Eli, Amanda Loy, Tiffany, Huang Chi, Abigail, Abu, JingYin, Shafiqah, Natalie Koh, Clarissa, Maxine, Audrey Liaw, Weelyn, Joan, Petrina, Nicole (Drama), Rene, Tessa Liang, Beverly, Genevieve, Glenda, Joy, Rosemarie, Dineesha, Amelyn, Rae, Chrystal, Yiggie, and Olivia. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hope I didn't forget anyone. Thank you all. I loveeeeee you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I met Mom at town, at about 1.30 for the dermatologist. I know, tell me about it. Fancy going there for the first time, on my birthday, but well. I found out I have syringoma, some genetic stuff, on my eyelid. It's like, your sweat glands, have unnecessary cells growning. Only cure: Laser, which costs a whopping 300 bucks. But it takes years to grow bigger. So no hurry.&lt;br /&gt;Doctor: It's genetic.&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: And it has to start with me?! Why can't it start with my great great great granddaughter!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After that, Mom brought me to shopppppppp :) Love it love it love it! Mango was having a ONE-DAY sale. {Checks the date} on 15 March! {Checks calender} MY BIRTHDAY! Oh, the joy! I got a top there, and my mom copied me, but a different colour. And then, off to Topshop, where I bought another top. Almost the same as my Little Miss Naughty top, but this time, Little Miss Fun, and bigger. Because Mom hopes she would fit in it someday. Laughoutloud. And I teased her non-stop, saying I was her fashion icon, and all. I'm Mom's Fashion Icon, I think I died laughing! What was that all about? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Birthday dinner was a blast at New York New York :) Great food, Greater company! Dad was constantly teasing the waiter, who was a Filipino too! So it was funny and all. The waiter almost gave us free fries, but Dad obviously paid for it. We made our own cotton candy, but wasn't allowed to finish it, because it was unhealthy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You guys are loveeeeee.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Someone owes me a cake :D &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-2137401591424944779?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/2137401591424944779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=2137401591424944779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/2137401591424944779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/2137401591424944779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/03/march-15-entry.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/Rfi8ifMmKXI/AAAAAAAAAAo/Y4QZFqaIBmg/s72-c/DSC00349.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-1221401339373234281</id><published>2007-03-13T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T06:19:59.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I thought it was the school holidays?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ch'yeah right. Well, with basically 2 days of my holidays gone, because it was lessons as usual. Well, I shouldn't be complaining since there are people out there who has to go to school for the whole week. Now, what was school holidays again? Holidays spent in school. Bingo. But on the brighter side, there's amazingly very little homework, there's almost no homework, but I think they expect us to do revision. Heh, well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got back our report slips today. I prefer to call it report slips instead of report card,because now, it's just a slip. But anyway, surprise surprise, I only failed FOUR tests out of EIGHTEEN tests. I know, I couldn't believe I had 18 tests/graded assignments! And, not everything is included! Oh my goodness la! Hahaha, I was shocked that Mrs Lim gave me a note of encouragement, cause I feel that what I have been doing so far, is not my best, and all my effort. I give myself a pat in the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHA, bye lovelies!&lt;br /&gt;2 more days (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-1221401339373234281?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/1221401339373234281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=1221401339373234281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1221401339373234281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1221401339373234281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-thought-it-was-school-holidays-chyeah.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-1459014567859094200</id><published>2007-03-11T15:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T23:53:11.404-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;This might get awfully random.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe it or not, as much as I adore reminiscing, I do not want a time machine. Even if it was invented, I don't even want to try to use it. I would probably think that it's the world's worse invention. I mean, surely we would want a time machine, to go back to the good ol' times, or simply fix things that have gone wrong, wouldn't we? Even I would admit that, but now, I think whether or not it's the good ol' times, or my biggest mistake, I wouldn't want it. The good ol' times, are the good ol' times. If you go back to it again and again, would it feel the same? Nope, because it just happens once. If it happens again, history is not repeating itself. It is not repetition. The present just rhymes with the past. How lovely would it be to simply keep those moments close to your hearts, and think about them once in a while? And you realise, you smile to yourself, learning how precious those memories actually are. Now, wouldn't you want that? And the mistakes, are mistakes. It's just a fall that we get once in a while. We are all humans, and we make mistakes. And, it is when failure come, that we grow closer to him, because as much as I hate to admit this, we only remember Him at times of difficulty and failure. Besides, His plan is perfect, so let's just leave it as it is, and not try to change it, with a TIME MACHINE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm done. That was my two-cents worth of thoughts. Thankyouverymuch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-1459014567859094200?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/1459014567859094200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=1459014567859094200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1459014567859094200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/1459014567859094200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/03/this-might-get-awfully-random.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-3669729072830060448</id><published>2007-03-10T23:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T07:23:17.355-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>DRAMA, I &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt; YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SYF Camp was very enriching for me, because I've got to open up my parcel. My parcel, being my character. I got to open her up, finding every inch and pound of detail about her, and still on the lookout. Energy level was quite low, because everyone was practically having an "off" day. But Preview went rather pretty, except for volume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what was a total turnoff, was the food. There's only one word to describe the food, GROSS. Something has got to be in it, so many of us ended with a stomachache, or worse diarrhoea. And I have to mention, I went home last night, early in the morning, say about 2 a.m, because it got so bad, but I made sure I came back by 9.30am. I still had stomachache once in a while, and I dare not eat lunch, I only had a few bites. And because I was so afraid, that something might go wrong with me (physically) during Preview, I dare not eat dinner as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DRAMA, I &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt; YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's in the blood.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-3669729072830060448?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/3669729072830060448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=3669729072830060448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/3669729072830060448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/3669729072830060448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/03/drama-i-y-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-2121356242808299290</id><published>2007-03-03T17:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T01:55:22.517-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I made a few discoveries about myself today, pretty cool.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Discovery #1 :I CAN'T GET OVER KNOWING I'M HOMOPHOBIC.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A new discovery I made yesterday, in fact someone had to tell me I'm homophobic. How freaky is that?! Especially when I'm in a school with lots of girl-girl relationships, butches and what not. Oh boy, hilarious. Well, I don't think I'm so homophobic, that I will cry due to fear when I see such things. At least, I don't think so and I hope not. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Discovery #2 :I'M A NATURALLY HAPPY CHILD, and I finally know why.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;ANNE: I'm getting myself out of Singapore, it's too stressful.&lt;br /&gt;Tuition Teacher: Huh, you're stressed? But everytime I see you, you're so happy-go-lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the reason why I'm a happy child, makes me an even happier child! Yiggie said&lt;strong&gt; I'm happy is because I have Christ in my life and in my heart.&lt;/strong&gt; Now, what beats that! Wow :D The reason I'm happy makes me so much more happier. God's love can make me so happy, why can't everyone be just as happy? I mean, what beats God's love? Even if you say, He doesn't, that a wrong reason, because He does. You just fail to realise it! Sit down and watch and think. And you will see, realise and feel His love!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-2121356242808299290?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/2121356242808299290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=2121356242808299290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/2121356242808299290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/2121356242808299290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-made-few-discoveries-about-myself.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-8277201531435537158</id><published>2007-03-01T16:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T00:02:08.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>March 1, 2007</title><content type='html'>Initially, I had a rather long narrative story, but I'm having a sudden emotional outbreak. Feeling &lt;em&gt;emo &lt;/em&gt;all over. Ack, &lt;em&gt;emo&lt;/em&gt; attack. You want to know what's worse? I have no idea, whether I am joyul or depressed. Like, &lt;em&gt;coolness.&lt;/em&gt; Ch'yeah right, &lt;em&gt;coolness&lt;/em&gt; indeed. Mood swings? Mood swings are &lt;strong&gt;evil.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've just gone through a lot of pictures, so I guess I'm just missing a lot of things.&lt;br /&gt;I miss waking up at 9am to take Grandfather for his morning exercise.&lt;br /&gt;I miss questioning Grandfather about his love life with Grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;I miss it when Grandfather who waves at random strangers just to make me laugh, although I know how not funny it is, but I just laugh.&lt;br /&gt;I miss it when Grandfather tells me about the little silly things Grandmother does.&lt;br /&gt;I miss it when people tell me how I was like when I was a kid, they mention a different story everytime my cousin and I are there.&lt;br /&gt;I miss America, and everything that made me look in amazement, and just feel dreamy, and everything that makes me so happy there.&lt;br /&gt;You know what, I think I miss my 2006. It was simply the best, lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, 2007 seems like,&lt;em&gt; coolness, except for &lt;strong&gt;that&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;On the way home today, I was just in deep thought about that. So deep that I forgot to tell the uncle to go in to the condominium. Stoopid, I had to walk a little, but all's good. I was thinking why you are still going on with it, when you know it's impossible. And then I realised, how impossible as it will be, it is just as impossible as trying to stop you. You know what, don't even think of giving me what I want, because you shouldn't even be. I hope I don't get a nightmare with more than 2 weird people popping in it. It's not as if last night's one was not freaky enough, and no one will know about it. I'm going to pull it out of me, and it's going nowhere but a black hole. And as for you, I don't give a poop, because it's not my fault that I did not have the courage to say anything. Even if I didn't say anything, you could have said something. Geeeeee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note, it's oh-so sweet sixteen in 2 weeks, oh loveeeeeee. I can barely wait. March 15, everybody! Refer to the list at the side, for what I want. Cash would do fine, a sincere letter would do fine too. Love is most welcome :D But nothing weird please. If anyone actually still comes by to actually read this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-8277201531435537158?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/8277201531435537158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=8277201531435537158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/8277201531435537158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/8277201531435537158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/02/march-1-2007.html' title='March 1, 2007'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-5020269123392536874</id><published>2007-02-25T22:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T06:56:20.978-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Busy week next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meetings meetings meetings.&lt;br /&gt;Tests tests tests and one quiz.&lt;br /&gt;Runs runs runs.&lt;br /&gt;Practicals practicals practicals.&lt;br /&gt;Canossian Saints' Day.&lt;br /&gt;Tutorials tutorials tutorials.&lt;br /&gt;Amanda Loy.&lt;br /&gt;Dermatologist.&lt;br /&gt;Soccer Match.&lt;br /&gt;Taekwondo.&lt;br /&gt;Tuition tuition tuition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you said something.&lt;br /&gt;And then it doesn't seem so difficult to survive next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-5020269123392536874?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/5020269123392536874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=5020269123392536874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/5020269123392536874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/5020269123392536874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/02/busy-week-next-week.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-8082277048307615377</id><published>2007-02-24T04:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-24T04:26:54.179-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I hope my mom ordered the A&amp;F Deborah shirt in navy. Pleasepleaseplease.&lt;/em&gt; I went back to the Abercrombie and Fitch site, and I looked at the shirt again. And I looked at my account, and they said that top in my size is sold out. And you guessed it, I was this close to tears. I hope my mom ordered it before it got sold out. Or else, I think I won't be speaking till I find a nice shirt to replace that shirt ):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a teenager is like, being a kid and an adult at the same time. And for us teenagers, it is almost impossible. Think typical, obviously. It's just how our parents always say, we're sixteen, and we're all grown up, but they treat us like toddlers. Ironic, is it not? I mean, how can someone be all matured and be treated like a kid? It's so difficult to be a teenager. What's more, in such a stressful and competitive society, who wants to spend their youth studying for PSLE, O' Levels, and then maybe, A' Levels? Oh my goodness, please. Goodness Gracious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School has been rather painful. Or maybe, that's because I was in pain, physically. Taekwondo, and then morning runs, and then P.E. Chinese New Year Celebration, was like a run around thing. Oh my goodness. I should really slow down huh? My legs have been crying since wednesday. Not literally, but yeah. Especially when I sit and stand. Funny thing is, after I greet the teacher, I will sit {OUCHHH}, and then the teacher for the next lesson comes in, I have to stand again {OUCHHH}. WELLLLL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotta go, lotsa test next week.&lt;br /&gt;Ciao, wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Anne, take a leap of faith.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-8082277048307615377?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/8082277048307615377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=8082277048307615377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/8082277048307615377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/8082277048307615377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-hope-my-mom-ordered-a-deborah-shirt.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-171302360830028476</id><published>2007-02-22T21:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T05:24:16.115-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JOKE OF THE DAY.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ANNE: OMG. I LOVE the A&amp;F Deborah shirt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;DEEN: Is it Deborah or Zebra?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ANNE: DEBORAH.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;MAXINE: MOOOOOO.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;ANNE: Zebra's don't MOOOOO.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Laughoutloudddddd. HAHAHAHAHA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I stole &lt;strong&gt;some&lt;/strong&gt; of &lt;strong&gt;this&lt;/strong&gt; from &lt;a href="http://byebyejolene.blogspot.com"&gt;BYEBYEJOLENE.BLOGSPOT.COM&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;11 more days to Mother Tongue Mid-Years. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;20 more days to the March Holidays&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;21 more days to SWEET SIXTEEN (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;68 more days to MYE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;214 days to 'O' Levels. &amp;amp;$*# #^.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;SYF's coming too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And I'm only looking forward to one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I thought I would never feel that way again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-171302360830028476?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/171302360830028476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=171302360830028476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/171302360830028476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/171302360830028476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/02/joke-of-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-538441696199118633</id><published>2007-02-18T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T19:51:15.744-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 18, 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RdfJulmsj6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/HL-q-Fkq7aI/s1600-h/upside+down.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032712910815399842" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RdfJulmsj6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/HL-q-Fkq7aI/s320/upside+down.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEEEEEN (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anne's goodie goodie friend turns sweet sixteeeeeen today!&lt;br /&gt;Denise, commonly known as Deen who simply adores green.&lt;br /&gt;I remember how my father used to make fun of you whenever you came over for a sleepover. He called you Chan Mei Mei. HAHAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;Andandand, remember the landslides, and how we dramatised this super dramatic scene, about two lovers who couldn't be together because of a guy called Mark? And I was the stoopid landslide? HAHAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;And remember how we freaked out in one of the sleepovers that we used colour pencils to make crosses around the room?&lt;br /&gt;And remember laughing for hours at Mr Lunchbox Head? OMG. We spent 2 hours on the dinner table, because we couldn't finish our food, because we just kept laughing. And how you spat the jelly all over my kitchen sink because you burst into laughter when I said something stoopid? HAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;And with all that fun for 6 years, the stoopid cold war came in Secondary One. Stewpid, very stewpid. And then after one year of the cold war, my great friend made the first move, which gave me a great shock on a Sunday morning. And now, she's my super duper good friend. The one I share Pastamania's very delicious Banana Dessert Pizza, and ice cream, and fries, and my laughter and my tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ILOVEYOU DEEEEEEN (:&lt;br /&gt;P.S I want a sleepover soooooon :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-538441696199118633?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/538441696199118633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=538441696199118633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/538441696199118633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/538441696199118633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/02/february-18-2007.html' title='February 18, 2007'/><author><name>Anne</name><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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q7-fQRH3dH0/RdfJulmsj6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/HL-q-Fkq7aI/s72-c/upside+down.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-4429066857373459171</id><published>2007-02-07T03:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T03:35:09.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>BREAKING NEWS: I'm learning taekwondo, and tonight's my first lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of you, close your mouth! Blink, your eyes are not playing tricks on you. I am going to learn taekwondo. HAHAHA. I'm kinda excited, but imagine, I'll be learning with little kids. HAHA, but I think I'll do fine, I don't even think anyone will notice the difference la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, bye! I wanted to blog something I was thinking about, but I shall not. It's in a totally different mood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-4429066857373459171?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/4429066857373459171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=4429066857373459171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/4429066857373459171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/4429066857373459171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/02/breaking-news-im-learning-taekwondo-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-758378079751529594</id><published>2007-02-06T03:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T03:59:40.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>After last night's long talk, I've decided to go easy on myself, go one step at a time, slowly. So this morning, I told myself, that I had to really slow down and go easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what did I see myself do during the day, "HURRY ANNE. Time is running out, and what have you accomplished? Nothing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I got home, went online, read some emails, and although you don't have to know this, but I had the sudden need to go to the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I obviously went to the bathroom, and then as I washing my hands, I saw this girl on the mirror. Guess what I saw? I saw this girl, with dark rings around her eyes, super huge eyebags, and the skin on her legs, were like those of a dried up prune. And then, her forehead, had read small little read dots, which are clear signs of a pimple outbreak. Looked closely at her nose, EEW, blackheads. She comed her hair, and as she did so, she saw strands of white hair. She smiled to see how she looked better with a smile. And if you're thinking that just by smiling, she would look like a happy girl, overpowering those signs of stress and ageing, think again. She looked like a girl, pretending to have all the energy in the world, when she knows her battery's already low. It was almost as if the words, "Stressed" and "Tired" were written on her face. Very, very ugly. And then I realised that girl was me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to get my strong faith back, it's beginning to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-758378079751529594?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/758378079751529594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=758378079751529594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/758378079751529594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/758378079751529594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/02/after-last-nights-long-talk-ive-decided.html' title=''/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-3698617503333256859</id><published>2007-02-03T09:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-03T09:20:39.802-08:00</updated><title type='text'>February 03, 2007</title><content type='html'>And then, she left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up today, not exactly in the best of mood, because of the very bad week, and what happened last night. I think my mom was somewhat PMS-ing, and she was screaming at me, because she thought I was rushing her, when I was not. GEEEEE, it made me cry. It was as if she didn't care about how I would feel. I told her how I felt through sms, cause I didn't think that it would be the right time to talk to her, when we're both steaming with anger. ACKKKK. Went down to Orchard, hoping to shop, till she told me I was only there to send my iPod for servicing, and yes, it died AGAIN. Soon after, my parents and I went for tea, before they sent me to Khatib, to take a bus to Changi Airport. Met up with Chrystal to see Miss Thanabal off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: Do want me to tell her anything? No message, or anything?&lt;br /&gt;Yiggie: Tell her to be more productive.&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: {stares at SMS, shock, and uh-ified.} UH, in terms of career, or in terms of babies? LOL. HAHA. FUNNNY.&lt;br /&gt;Yiggie: Let her decide for herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was kinda reluctant to go, because Chrystal only did a research on it, so I wasn't exactly too sure. But I obviously went anyway. And then, we stared at the Departure Telly, but they never seemed to show her flight. We didn't even know which Terminal. And then, we went to this big board, and then we saw her flight. Oh.  Chrystal had this thought, that Miss Thanabal could have gone in 5 hours earlier to shop. We panicked, and then we decided to call Miss Thanabal to see if she was still accessible, and we decided to hunt her down. HAHA, we were stalkers, professional. Finally, we spotted Miss Thanabal, and we tried not to be spotted by her, but then she saw me, and I was like, OH, LOOK AWAY LOOK AWAY! And then she gave the look. We were supposed to go for dinner with her, but we knew that would put me and Chrystal in a really awkward position, cause she was with her family. So we decided to meet her at the gate instead. With the dialogue on top, that I told Chrystal, we decided to get Miss Thanabal a magazine, YOUNG PARENTS. I'm pretty sure it would help her decide on whether to get one or more, since she's been asking us how it feels as the only child, as compared to those with siblings. Funnnnnny. And then she went through the glass doors, and BYEEEEE. As how Chrystal have describled, "Your eyes has a tinge of sadness, and they're red" But I didn't cry, which was kind of an improvement. I mean, I cry every year, on the last day I spend with my relatives, as if it's almost a practice, it's like even if I don't cry, I will just cry somehow la. It's probably the saddest thing that could ever happen in one year. And then a whole series of questions came along. But I think Chrystal gave me the answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just watched A Ring of Endless Light. I cried when the grandfather died. Because I couldn't imagine how it will be like to lose a loved one, much worse, my grandfather. Oh gosh, getting emotional, so I shall not continue. Now, bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry to be back with such an entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-3698617503333256859?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/3698617503333256859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=3698617503333256859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/3698617503333256859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/3698617503333256859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/02/february-03-2007.html' title='February 03, 2007'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116930090590792973</id><published>2007-01-20T21:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-20T05:48:25.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 20, 2007</title><content type='html'>I don't know la huh! Okay, I really don't.  I have spent approximately an hour on the MOE website, checking out JCs, and I can't seem to find anything about Polytechnic. However, I still have no idea what to do with my future. My mom just gave me a lecture on how I should go for something stable instead of following my passion. After TP's open house, I am definite that I am not taking Engineering, I just don't have a &lt;em&gt;thing&lt;/em&gt; for it la. The School of Design was colourful and I don't know, made it seem like, a really happy place? Business, maybe. Argh, don't know la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, I'm on a super strict diet now. So if you see me eating something HEAVY during recess, you are allowed to steal my food. Please, and ThankYouVeryMuch. My mom got me a shirt on size smaller than my normal shirt size to motivate me to lost weight. And I can't afford to say I don't care, because it's a Little Miss Naughty shirt which costs a whopping $43. And yeah, you figured, I went shopping, and I couldn't believe I was actually shopping. Because, &lt;strong&gt;number one,&lt;/strong&gt; my New Year Resolution was not to shop till the holidays, number two being the fact that I actually found time. Anyway, the whole purpose of going to town was because of my dying iPod, but no worries, it's undergoing operation now. He/She will be discharged on Thursday. But my mother and I couldn't resist! Whoooops! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open House at TP yesterday, was tiring. The campus was so huge, that by the time you leave the cafeteria/canteen to your school/LT, you'd say, "Let's go back to the cafeteria/canteen, I'm hungry again." Okay, LAMEEEEE. But I hope you get my point, the campus is HUGE. The worse part was, we were carrying a week worth of homework on our bags, and plus we had a goodie bag. Basically we looked like Karang Gunis. And Maxine was stuffing her goodie bag with some of her books, and when the lecturer said, "Inside your goodie bag, you will see {Pause}" and I whispered to Maxine during the pause, "Maxine's books." Okay, LAMEEEEE. Did I mention it was super duper hot? Erghhhh, the heat and the load just killed us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camp CORRI's on monday, hope everything goes well for the facilitators. It will be stressful, so God Bless All of Us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116930090590792973?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116930090590792973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116930090590792973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116930090590792973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116930090590792973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/01/january-20-2007.html' title='January 20, 2007'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116835157877071804</id><published>2007-01-10T18:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T02:30:59.190-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 10, 2007</title><content type='html'>RAHHHHHH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking, a lot. Okay, maybe it isn't exactly the time to think so much, because I know I should be spending more time concentrating on my studies, but anyhow, I still have to think. Thinking has been somewhat part of my life. Gee. Fantasizing, thinking wisely, I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking of what to do with my life after O'Levels, cause somewhat I feel like I'm going on with school life aimlessly. I don't even exactly know what Junior College to go to. I want to do so many things, acting, radio, fashion designing, I don't know. But hey, it seems like what I want to do, may not be what I can do next time. I mean, what makes me think that I'm oh-so great in acting, that I will easily get a job in Showbiz? Nothing. As for fashion, like what they say in Project Runway, "In fashion, one day you're in, and they next day, you're out." So then again, what makes me think I'll always be in? Nothing again. You see, nothing is confirmed in life. I mean, imagine life, with everything so planned, so sure of what will happen, it will be a real bore. So back to my point, I want to get to Junior College, where I can carry on holding onto my dreams, at the same time, have something to fall back on when everything fails. But what my mom suggests, I take something that gives me more assurance, but what gives me assurance contains 0% passion. So what now? I'm thinking that if I'm really passionate about it, I still may not get it. I mean, it needs effort and faith too, doesn't it? Sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that I've been thinking of is Inner Peace. I heard those words from someone, and it began bothering me if I have Inner Peace. "Inner Peace is a feeling that comes from the heart. It is knowing that no matter what happens in life, you can handle it and maintain a happy and peaceful mind. It comes from knowing that you are never alone, and that there is a power greater than you; A power that you can tap on anytime, and receive the help and guidance you need." I doubt I have Inner Peace &lt;strong&gt;yet,&lt;/strong&gt; but I will, someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last thing I have been thinking of is how, I've been friends with you, when I know nothing that's going on. It's as if, we're friends and yet we know nothing at all about each other. Even myself, I realise how I have been keeping truckloads of things from you, and I can't seem to figure out why. Whenever I think that one day, you might leave for somewhere, and say, "Don't worry, Anne. I will remember you for life." And then as the years go by, not an email, not a letter, not a postcard. And I realise how you have forgotten me. I don't know if I might be expecting it, or actually not wanting that day to come. But I might actually go through those days pretty well, because I might actually be going through it now. Honestly, I think I'm closer to so many people, that I probably just got close to recently, than I am to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on a lighter note, I watched "The Arena" and it was rather amusing. But seriously, do good looks matter? And just now, we were on the Weight Issue, and I thought, a person's weight doesn't matter. It's just numbers, with a unit at the back. What matters, is how you look with you weight. I mean, when you go to the mall, or simply walk the road, no one actually asks you what's your weight right? They simply judge you with how they see you. So what's with the Weight Issue? So if you're dieting for GradNight, don't bother checking if you have lost weight by taking you weight every month. Look at yourself in the mirror, and ask yourself, if you have lost weight. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, Ciao.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116835157877071804?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116835157877071804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116835157877071804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116835157877071804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116835157877071804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/01/january-10-2007.html' title='January 10, 2007'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116800118331702915</id><published>2007-01-05T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T04:48:18.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 5, 2006</title><content type='html'>.I might actually really be allergic to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I developed a fever at about 4.40a.m. I felt so terrible, as if my nose was about to come off my face any moment. My nose was running like a tap, and I would want it to stop, but it would be blocked, and then I can't breathe. It was awful. I can't believe I'm absent on the third day of school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost wanted to go back to school for Orientation, because I know how chaotic, how fun, how crazy people will get. But noooooooo, my Mom would not allow me to because she was worried about how I would faint again, like I did last year. But, it was more of like a blackout. Haha, I remember how Michelle panicked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's been stressful lately, because of the endless reminders that we are taking our O'Levels this year. Gee, O'Levels are really some big deal huh? But I have this horrible horrible feeling that I would get 19 for my L1R5, and I would not want that, would I? I better get focused, and stop thinking of Getaways, where to go for holidays, and what to shop for. I should stop letting my mind run for stupid reasons, and really get to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Secondary Two Camp CORRI's around the corner, and I must say, I'm pretty excited about it. Just reading the proposals, and planning, and timelines, make me so excited. It's going to be fun, at least I think so. And it beats going to Temasek Polytechnic for some workshop. But Secondary Two Camp CORRI would definitely be much more tiring, and stressful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, thinking about how this year would go about and all that jazz, it's going to be tough. &lt;strong&gt;School's tough, but you're tougher. &lt;/strong&gt;I will have the last laugh. I hope friendships last through this stressful, quick year. I always thought of how people should never have friends, since friends come and go. But hey, everyone needs a friend, and it's our responsibility to keep it going. See what I mean, by I should stop my mind from running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116800118331702915?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116800118331702915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116800118331702915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116800118331702915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116800118331702915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/01/january-5-2006.html' title='January 5, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116790514215415501</id><published>2007-01-04T18:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T02:05:42.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 4, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I'm alergic to school.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been sneezing, and sniffing my day through. I was almost absent for school today, but something just wanted me to go. School's been pressurizing, all they ever talk about is O Levels, target setting, JC's and Polytechnics. BOOOOO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao, off to do some work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116790514215415501?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116790514215415501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116790514215415501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116790514215415501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116790514215415501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/01/january-4-2006.html' title='January 4, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116782637050757632</id><published>2007-01-03T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T04:12:50.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 3, 2007</title><content type='html'>Life just has &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; much &lt;strong&gt;DRAMA. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the first day of Secondary Four, of which I barely experienced, because of the Secondary One Orientation. Fun, but extremely tiring. Imagine, walking around the school, for 2 hours, and then shouting and screaming cheers to entertain them? Sheesh, imagine Secondary Two Camp CORRI. But it beats Secondary Four Camp, anytime! :D We were only able to get back to class at say, bout 1.30pm? So anyway, I'm seating right in front because I only got back at 1.30. Hopefully, this will help me academically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ack, nothing much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm hoping you know the reason.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116782637050757632?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116782637050757632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116782637050757632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116782637050757632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116782637050757632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/01/january-3-2007.html' title='January 3, 2007'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116767602552066047</id><published>2007-01-01T10:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T10:27:05.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 1, 2007</title><content type='html'>2007, baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Year Resolutions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt; Lose weight for Graduation Night. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Do facial every weekend. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; Shop only during the holidays. Shut up, I know it's close to impossible if you see the next list below. Holidays include public holidays.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Save Money.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Study hard and smart to get below 12 points for O'Levels.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cope well with the last 6 months with council work.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do not complain, just accept, unless I feel a sense of injustice.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;2007 Shopping List:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Assessment Books.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dress for GradNight, Granny might be unable to make one.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shoes for GradNight.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cargo Three-quarters.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Faded Denim Shorts.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hoodieeeeeeeeees! :D&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ticket to a lovely getaway after O'Levels. America again, baby! (:&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tops, with scribbles/design.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Plain tops.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Flats.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tote Bag.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nike Backback.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Crumpler.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Tiny CareBear.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Okay, I'll leave it to that for now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have a good year ahead, everyone. Remember your resolutions!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116767602552066047?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116767602552066047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116767602552066047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116767602552066047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116767602552066047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2007/01/january-1-2007_01.html' title='January 1, 2007'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116756221590556272</id><published>2006-12-31T18:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-31T02:50:15.933-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December 31, 2006</title><content type='html'>Ciao, &lt;strong&gt;2006&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed youuuuuu.&lt;br /&gt;You were &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;2006 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;THE YEAR.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I knew who I could trust.&lt;br /&gt;When I knew who'd be there. And it's Him, them, you and you.&lt;br /&gt;When I knew you weren' going to be there.&lt;br /&gt;When I knew it was the end of you and me.&lt;br /&gt;When I did crazy things with you.&lt;br /&gt;When I made new friends.&lt;br /&gt;When I went on a one-week camp.&lt;br /&gt;When I went overseas without my family.&lt;br /&gt;When I had the getaway of a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;When I got into Executive Council.&lt;br /&gt;When I learnt some much more in/from life.&lt;br /&gt;When I dreamt of having my first love to be my true love &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span &gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I had the the happy, sad and meaningful moments.&lt;br /&gt;In other words, my 2006 was a blast! (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And now, it's nothing but a memory, a ride that I will never forget.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HELLO 2007,&lt;br /&gt;I'm prepared, now BRING IT ON, baby!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116756221590556272?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116756221590556272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116756221590556272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116756221590556272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116756221590556272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/12/december-31-2006.html' title='December 31, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116739433461350263</id><published>2006-12-29T20:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T04:47:52.240-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December 29,2006</title><content type='html'>HELLO THERE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came back 3 days ago. The getaway was a blast! It was AwesomeFabulousFantasticLoveFunKissyHuggy and &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;SOLID. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photos from Philippines here, but not those in America yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7718/1120/1600/823084/DSCF0565.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7718/1120/1600/352131/DSCF0564.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7718/1120/1600/758799/DSCF0553.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7718/1120/320/764311/DSCF0553.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7718/1120/1600/561249/DSCF0545.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/7718/1120/320/395658/DSCF0545.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandpaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm just too lazy, so just live with this first. And I don't feel like having a blog anymore, I find it more and more pointless. Because next year will be just busybusybusybusy. Oh oh oh, and I can't wait for Camp CORRI (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ackkkk, I'm really lazy.&lt;br /&gt;Ciaoooooooo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116739433461350263?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116739433461350263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116739433461350263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116739433461350263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116739433461350263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/12/december-292006_29.html' title='December 29,2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116651054801245296</id><published>2006-12-19T14:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T22:51:07.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December 19, 2006</title><content type='html'>BAHHHHHH.&lt;br /&gt;I'm one week away from reality. I told you one month goes by just as quick as that! I'm sinking into depression ): I cried when I left America, I was realising how half of my blue-sky holiday has gone by. I had so much fun there although in the end we didn't go to Las Vegas, and Lake Tahoe, cause we were really really tired. We decided to save it the next time we visit my family there, which would be in another 3 or 4 years. But we might go there next year for a few days, my uncle's getting married. And the other day, I was fantasizing! FUNNY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Let my First Love be True Love &lt;3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to bump into &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; in Disneyland, the Happiest Place on Earth.&lt;br /&gt;I want to see &lt;em&gt;you &lt;/em&gt;behind me, or in front of me in every ride I take.&lt;br /&gt;I want to meet &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; there, during the Christmas season.&lt;br /&gt;The time when they will throw down fake snow, and when I'm recording the fireworks in my high-tech camera, I see &lt;em&gt;you &lt;/em&gt;at the corner of the screen.&lt;br /&gt;And as it gets chilly and windy, and then my scarf gets blown away, &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; catch it, and &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; put it around my neck.&lt;br /&gt;And that's when we realise how often we bump, and that we're meant to be &lt;3&gt;SNAP. That's enough, before I leak out too much. Oh &lt;em&gt;Mr Right&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here I am in Philippines, helping around the house. I'm really proud of my grandfather (: He's so much better, that he can even walk on his own. He's usually supposed to wait for someone to bring him around. But sometimes, he doesn't bother, he walks, with the walking stick, but the walking stick never touches the floor. Perhaps, he holds it just for assurance. One more week here ): I know I'll cry, for sure. No doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, till one week.&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116651054801245296?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116651054801245296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116651054801245296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116651054801245296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116651054801245296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/12/december-19-2006.html' title='December 19, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116539912138848942</id><published>2006-12-06T17:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T01:59:42.943-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December 6, 2006</title><content type='html'>HELLO GROOVIEEEEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about 1.30a.m right here in America (: And since November 25, I've been out everyday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vacaville Outlet Shopping&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;ChuckECheese&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Relatives' house&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Another relatives' house&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;In San Francisco, Golden gate&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Palace of the Fine Arts&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fisherman's Wharf&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Coit Tower&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;In Los Angeles, Relatives' house&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hollywood and Highland&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hollywood&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Universal Studios&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;City Walk&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Grove&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Disneyland; The happiest place on Earth&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Disney's California Adventure &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ontorio Mills&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;And tomorrow, we're going to San Diego, for outlet shopping, and Legoland. And we might be going to Lake Tahoe or Mountain Bear (?), and Las Vegas. And we're going to do more visitings during the weekends. I'm super tired, but I'm having heckalot of fun. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm going to sleep. Ciao.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116539912138848942?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116539912138848942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116539912138848942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116539912138848942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116539912138848942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/12/december-6-2006.html' title='December 6, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116425971705958848</id><published>2006-11-22T13:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T21:28:37.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 23, 2006</title><content type='html'>One final entry before my getaway on Saturday! Because I am psychic, ch'yeah righttttt, I see myself doing last minute packing tomorrow, after tuition, which is after drama, which is after meeting. Yes, that's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday, I supposedly had a free day, but I had to go back to school for filming! And I'm feeling good, because I'm finally done with filming. At least, Abigail and I are. So before filming, Abi and I decided to meet up for lunch. When I met Abi, she was still in her ballet clothes and such, so I told her to change. While she was changing, she realised she brought everything but her tie. I know, it was really dumb. We settled down at starbucks for lunch, and she ordered an ugly chicken puff, and I ordered potato salad. The potato salad tasted weird, and so held it up, and oh my gosh! There was a date, 21 November 2006. And it was 21 November 2006! I thought it was the expiry date, I mean, who wouldn't. And I made Abi go up to the counter and question them, only to find out that it was actually the arrival date. After Starbucks, Abi changed, and I tried to help her cover up her bare blouse. After we got out of the toilet, I just tried to &lt;em&gt;assure&lt;/em&gt; her, by going out &lt;strong&gt;loud&lt;/strong&gt;, " ABI, COME ON, IT'S NOT OBVIOUS YOU DON'T HAVE A TIE!!" HAHAHA, I know. And I really hope there will be bloopers in the video, I don't mind showing everyone my stupid lines. HAHAHA, I think I'm just used to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, wasting my time while people are shopping, what's worse, AMANDA'S LEAVING today, and I'm here. All because of my brothers, damn tuition. I came home straight after breakfast with Mr Roland, Huang Chi, Jingyin, Khad, and Huiling. I had a totally unglam moment! Jingyin and I were laughing so hard, and then I laughed when there was hashbrown in my mouth, and yeah, you figured! It's raining hashbrowns! Jingyin was in front of me. Laughoutreallyreallyreallyloud. And I still continued laughing, and my ears turned red. HAHAHAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am all excited for Saturday! It's really been a dream to actually step foot in America. My parents promised me since young, that they would bring me there. And I was the only child then, so they said when I'm older. But my brother came in, so I had to wait a little while more, for my brother to grow older, but another one popped out! This is why I only get to go now, but it's okay, I still get to go. I was doing online window shopping, if that actually make sense, and I spotted some stuff that I really really like, and I will get it in America. Crumpler's cheaper there too :D So if you guys want anything, I could help you get it. Note that I use 'help' which means, you pay me back after I get that something for you. So if you do want me to get you something as a &lt;strong&gt;favour&lt;/strong&gt;, SMS me, don't tag or whatsoever for it, because I don't know when I'll come online again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November 25- December 11: AMERICA! (: and due to time differences,&lt;br /&gt;December 13-December 26: PHILIPPINES!!&lt;3 Yes, there will be waterworks when I leave on December 26.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for now,&lt;br /&gt;Take care all.&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss you.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be &lt;s&gt;right&lt;/s&gt; back with pictures and &lt;strong&gt;maybe, presents.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOVEEEEE.&lt;br /&gt;TTFN. HAHAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a hot date with Caroline tomorrow, during tuition. Sizzleeeee. I think I'm hotter. DUH. HAHAHA, what ego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao, and &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116425971705958848?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116425971705958848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116425971705958848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116425971705958848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116425971705958848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-23-2006.html' title='November 23, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116410613022715519</id><published>2006-11-21T18:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T02:51:18.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 21, 2006</title><content type='html'>Lord, I'm sorry I'm not my best. I need you, please help me ):&lt;br /&gt;Please send someone, anyone to knock at my door.&lt;br /&gt;Give me a real tight hug, and stay up all night to let me cry it all out til my eyes are all puffy.&lt;br /&gt;And then, give me words that will console me and make me feel good.&lt;br /&gt;After that, put me nicely tugged into my bed, and kiss my forehead.&lt;br /&gt;Run your fingers through my hair to make me sleep, til you, yourself falls asleep.&lt;br /&gt;I need company to run, to pull my hand.&lt;br /&gt;I tried screaming into a pillow, but I was unable to breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm basically having one of the really bad weeks of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;You give me all the crap, all that confusion. And just when I think I've got that off my mind,&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My father wants me to stay home after coming back from Exco Meeting on Thursday for the mere one hour to babysit my brother, Justin, because Kevin has got tuition. Did I mention it's 3 to 4? It's the middle of the day. And just when I'm finally letting go of the shopping trip with Deen,&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My father gets angry because he thinks I don't want to help him, and said he will never get help from me again. It's heartbreaking.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My father comes home angry with that fact, and gets even angrier with me because my room is 20% messy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And just when I'm feeling sorry, and decided to help my brother. I came home, asking my brother for the remote because he was flipping it alternatively between two channels. And I saw a Hannah Montana Music Video, and I wanted to watch it. And he said, "Go away, Dumbass." Do keep in mind, that a music video, from Disney Channel, is only 2 minutes, at the most 3? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And that was the first time I actually stared at the Telly today, because I've been in school, yeah, still in school, filming. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And when I told my mom I wanted to watch Step Up, she gave me that look, and I knew I would never get the chance to watch it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm free tomorrow, but the world isn't.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Everyone's leaving. Amanda's leaving on Thursday, and I almost could see her off, but filming, then just when there's no filming, my unappreciative brother comes in. And then, I imagine how hard it will be to keep a friendship going, when we're so distant.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My friend's moving out. Which means, no more throwing down contact lens solution. No more talking about stupid rumours that just freaks us out. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No more this and no more that.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goodbye.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Caroline just knocked a lot of sense to me, and I'm now crying my heart out. Thanks girl. I mean, seriously. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116410613022715519?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116410613022715519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116410613022715519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116410613022715519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116410613022715519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-21-2006.html' title='November 21, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116395263712811154</id><published>2006-11-19T23:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T08:10:37.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 19, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"Thanks for buying shampoo for me. But why, Johnson's Baby Shampoo?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Because you're still a baby in my eyes."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds like a dopey advertistment huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's how sweet my mom is. And I thank God for her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116395263712811154?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116395263712811154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116395263712811154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116395263712811154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116395263712811154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-19-2006_19.html' title='November 19, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116386294487703831</id><published>2006-11-19T00:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T08:26:06.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 19, 2006</title><content type='html'>I have learnt a &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;super duper triple&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt; important lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, Anne, promise to NEVER EVER bring my diary to camp ever again. I came back from camp yesterday, and when I took out my diary, it was wet. Panicpanicpanic. And now, the ink's all smudged, but I can still read a little of it. But thank God, letters and pictures are a-okay. But, my diary's wet and ugly. I'm keeping it, but I have to find a new proper one, since I'm almost done with that book. I am &lt;s&gt;feeling&lt;/s&gt; so stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because I don't want to reminded about my stupid idea to bring my diary to camp, I refuse to write on that crumply diary. So here I am, dying to write a personal emotional entry, scrambling around the house looking for a notebook I can decorate and probably turn into a diary. But I found nothing that's up to my standard. I just wanted to scribble on my wall, and lock my room up forever. Yes, I'm needing one that urgently. Why does my diary get wet at this point of my life, where I'm all ready to scribble and talk about what's going on in my life and actually remember to tell my grandchildren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See the importance of a diary now? It allows me to write with feelings, read again and again once in a while. The funny entries, the entries I had when I was pissed, and was rash, really, it helps me reflect. And it'd be really cool to actually let my grandchildren read it next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why did I even want to bring my diary to camp? ARGH. I mustmustmust get one as soon as possible or I will just die of not ranting. I know I have a blog, but I want my diary ): I'm sorry, World. I'm having a really bad day without a diary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116386294487703831?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116386294487703831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116386294487703831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116386294487703831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116386294487703831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-19-2006.html' title='November 19, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116350369095055051</id><published>2006-11-14T19:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-14T03:28:11.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 14, 2006</title><content type='html'>Dear You,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I knew everything,&lt;br /&gt;But all I knew was nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing and Everything,&lt;br /&gt;Just who was I kidding?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was kidding myself,&lt;br /&gt;Til I realise history was repeating itself.&lt;br /&gt;And then I asked my pea-sized brain,&lt;br /&gt;If I wanted to save it, again and again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brain said Yes&lt;br /&gt;My heart said No,&lt;br /&gt;So what now, you tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gee, I feel like your spare tyre, someone who you would just rant to only when things go wrong. But if that's they way, don't expect me to solve your problem just like that, especially when we were &lt;em&gt;supposedly&lt;/em&gt; good friends. It's you, I'm talking about. The one who just like me, thinks I know everything, but I don't know a single thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;Love,&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116350369095055051?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116350369095055051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116350369095055051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116350369095055051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116350369095055051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-14-2006.html' title='November 14, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116340185312877710</id><published>2006-11-13T15:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-12T23:10:53.366-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 13, 2006</title><content type='html'>Executive Council Chalet was a blast! (: It was AwesomeFantasticFabulousDeliciousFunUnglamourousGlamourous and worth it (: I love my Exco :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday came and we all headed to Costa Sands Downtown East. And then the partaye began! We unloaded the food. Food glorious food. There was a lot of food! Right. There was satay, really awesome potato salad, cake, chicken wings, fish, sausages, fishballs, chocolate fondue, tidbits, drinks, fruit salad, crabstick, marshmallows, and AHA, SIX tubs of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. A treat from Miss Thanabal (: So you could actually imagine how much fat or fatter we are now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After unloading the food, we were supposed to do competency tables, but noooo, off to blading and cycling. And I, decided to learn to blade. I've got a lot of teachers, Chrystal, Tiffany, Player actually Yiggie, Suiee, Marie, and Rae. HAHAHAHA. A bimbo like me panicking when I am always about to fall, because I was darn scared I'd fall flat on my face. I know, you can imagine me crying my heart out right? I already panic when I get a pimple, fall flat an get an obvious scar, my gosh. So Chrystal was behind, supporting me from the back in case I fall. And when I'm about to fall, she will pull my belt hoops, and I get a major wedgie. And my shorts are damn loose now because of &lt;s&gt;I lost weight.&lt;/s&gt; of all the pulling she did. But hey I didn't even fall once, even when I tried on my own. But I can't exactly blade, I was blade-walking. And then I met a mean toddler. Did I say mean? Make that evil, and mean. Chrystal saw 2 kids who could blade, and there was a toddler cycling behind them.&lt;br /&gt;Chrystal: Anne, Look.&lt;br /&gt;Player: Don't you envy them?&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: {To the kids} FINE, I ENVY YOU LA! HAPPY?!&lt;br /&gt;Mean Evil Toddler: HAHA!&lt;br /&gt;Player, Marie, ANNE: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Laughoutreallyreallyloud!&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: Well, FINE.&lt;br /&gt;How mean can he get?! BUMMERRRRR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went back to the chalet after that, and we started the BBQ. Mr Roland and Trevor cooked and Miss Thanabal told us lots and lots of stories. And we ate and we ate and we ate. And then we couldn't take it, and there was a lot of uncooked leftovers, so we decided to cook all of it for Phoebe and Ruzzie. OH OH OH. And Miss Thanabal and Trevor danced for us! There were darn gooooood. Oh, then there was a little sharing session on how we felt as a kid. In terms of being the only child, and having siblings. And then we started watching the movieees. Supposedly a movie marathon. But the first two bored us, and we stopped watching. And the first one was actually a horror movie, SAW. Ruzzie and Phoebe, knowing we were watching a horror movie, banged the doors! OH MY GOSH, SCREAMMMMMMMMM. Played a few games and then sent Suiee off. And then some went to bathe before watching Final Destination 3. Gruesome, horrible show. And then we were all so freaked out, we all slept in one room, where we had 2 rooms. Seven of us (Chrystal, Huiling, Marie, ANNE, and Rae, Ruzzie and Tiffany) on the bed. Marie moved out to another mattress half way. I think she had cramps. HAHA, I heard her say, "OH NO, MY LEG CRAMP." HAHAHA. On one mattress, Jingyin and Phoebe. On another, Valerie, Huangchi and Player. Player decided to take out anoter mattress, and put on top of Valerie and Huangchi's legs as a mini bed. She sort of sat on the floor and slept.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we woke up, half-dead and all. Almost lazy to actually clean up, but we did, and some camera whoring, and some of us and went blading again. My blades sucked, something was pressing on my leg, and it hurts so much, I could barely blade. I actually had the confidence to blade at first, but it started hurting real bad, it was peeling. YEAH. I know. I'm rather determined to learn blading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a personal mode,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You,&lt;/strong&gt; I hate it when you keep such things from me. Sooner or later, history will repeat, and I don't know if I want to save it this time. If you do, you do. I don't understand what's so hard telling someone like me, when we're actually supposed to be good friends. And no, it's not Sharron. It's not who you think it is. Go figure. I might consider giving you a taste of your own medicine. But then again, it's none of my business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You,&lt;/strong&gt; you've got me all confused. I hope I was just oversensitive to the words you said to me. If I wasn't oversenstive, the answer is NO, forever and ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You,&lt;/strong&gt; thanks darling (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;YOU right up there,&lt;/strong&gt; thank you for all and everything. Please let me live the fullest each day without regret (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao, and &lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116340185312877710?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116340185312877710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116340185312877710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116340185312877710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116340185312877710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-13-2006.html' title='November 13, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116317386965727378</id><published>2006-11-10T23:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T07:53:10.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 10, 2006</title><content type='html'>School holidays are holidays spent in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realised how I've never had a day without doing anything dumb. OH MAN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clique outing yesterday. Whoopeee. Like, finally. Last time, we went off was May? Gee. Anyway, had lunch at Seoul Garden, and I learnt that I can't cook for nuts. Actually, I can, but I just tend to forget I was cooking something, until Deen goes, "Anne, your chicken!" And then, as my mother thought I was a shopping queen who always have successful shopping trips, I think it's cause they pay. In other words, I'm broke. HAHA, and I still owe people money. Gee. And Deen bought me this bracelet. Prettaye! (: I have the urge to shop with my mom tomorrow, but she has a dentist appointment and I have got tuition. What a waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deen came over today, to help me decide what to ship over to the Philippines cause it would be too much of a hassle to actually bring it to America and all about. But it wasn't very successful, because I barely listened to her. I told her to choose 20 tops out of 31 tops, and while she was choosing, I took a bath. And when I came out, so many of those I wanted to bring, wasn't there, and so, I have decided to bring maybe all of them. If not, at least 28 of them. Not bringing those three can kinda break my heart. Uh, right. 15 more days, 15 more days, til my getaway from my reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I have to remind everyone that we only have 7 weeks of holidays to go? HAHA, go study, enjoy, whatever. And if you're not going away, shop till you drop, while I shopeatlaughgiggledumbplayenjoyscreamcrystudysleep (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116317386965727378?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116317386965727378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116317386965727378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116317386965727378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116317386965727378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-10-2006_10.html' title='November 10, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116298684172373105</id><published>2006-11-08T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T04:32:16.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 8, 2006</title><content type='html'>Caroline will now hate me because I might have to cancel our shopping trip to Marina Square on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;Amanda might just kill me now, if I can't send her off on November 23.&lt;br /&gt;Deen and someone else might go to war over, my one and only free day, November 22.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holidays, what holidays? In case you're thinking I am having a whooping time during the holidays, lo and behold the schedule down below, and that is pretty much my, what's another word for holidays, but you still go back to school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;October&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30 -E Math Tutorials: 8am to 12nn&lt;br /&gt;31 -A Math Tutorials: 8am to 12nn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;November&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 -History Tutorials: 8am to 12:30pm&lt;br /&gt;2 - Literature Tutorials: 9am to 12.30p.m&lt;br /&gt;3 -Literature Tutorials: 9am to 12.30p.m ,CCA: 1pm to 4pm , Justin's Graduation ,Rebecca's 15!&lt;br /&gt;4 -&lt;br /&gt;5 -&lt;br /&gt;6 -Literature Tutorials: 9am to 12.30pm, Executive Council Meeting: 11am&lt;br /&gt;7 -Literature Tutorials: 9am to 12.30pm&lt;br /&gt;8 -Literature Tutorials: 9am to 12:30pm&lt;br /&gt;9 -Literature Tutorials: 9am to 12:30pm&lt;br /&gt;10 -CCA: 9am to 12nn, Executive Council Meeting: 12.30pm, Tuition:7:30pm to 9:30pm&lt;br /&gt;11 -Tuition&lt;br /&gt;12 -Executive Council Chalet&lt;br /&gt;13 -Executive Council Chalet&lt;br /&gt;14 -&lt;br /&gt;15 -MOE Senior Leadership Camp&lt;br /&gt;16 -MOE Senior Leadership Camp&lt;br /&gt;17 -MOE Senior Leadership Camp Tuition:7:30pm to 9:30pm Filming: all day.&lt;br /&gt;18 -Dance-a-thon, Legion Outdoor Function&lt;br /&gt;19 -&lt;br /&gt;20 -CCA: 1pm to 4pm. Filming: 4pm – 10pm&lt;br /&gt;21 -Filming: 4pm – 10pm&lt;br /&gt;22 -&lt;br /&gt;23 -Amanda's Leaving&lt;br /&gt;24 -CCA: 1pm to 4pm Filming: 4pm – 10pm Tuition:7:30pm to 9:30pm&lt;br /&gt;25 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;26 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;27 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;28 -Not in Singapore, Grandmother's Birthday!&lt;br /&gt;29 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;30 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;December&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 -Not in Singapore, Maid's Birthday!&lt;br /&gt;2 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;3 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;4 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;5 -Not in Singapore, Justin's Birthday!&lt;br /&gt;6 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;7 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;8 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;9 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;10 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;11 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;12 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;13 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;14 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;15 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;16 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;17 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;18 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;19 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;20 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;21 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;22 -Not in Singapore&lt;br /&gt;23 -Not in Singapore, Uncle's Birthday!&lt;br /&gt;24 -Not in Singapore, Christmas Eve&lt;br /&gt;25 -Not in Singapore, Christmas&lt;br /&gt;26 -Back to Singapore&lt;br /&gt;27 -&lt;br /&gt;28 -&lt;br /&gt;29 -&lt;br /&gt;30 - Mom's Birthday!&lt;br /&gt;31- New Years' Eve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you thought your holidays were bad enough? Think again. Gee, I don't think I ever had a holiday this hectic. And I haven't even included some that may come these few days. Can I die now? Oh wait, I &lt;em&gt;died. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116298684172373105?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116298684172373105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116298684172373105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116298684172373105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116298684172373105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-8-2006.html' title='November 8, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116290259636068273</id><published>2006-11-07T20:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-07T04:29:57.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 7, 2006</title><content type='html'>HELLO WORLD. I mean, MEOWWWW World.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing the most productive studying ever, in two days. I mean, I produce the most information out my brain! And sheesh, I swear I could barely do anything with shopping in my head, and Caroline in front of my very eyes. But I feel sad for her, I was a worse distraction, so much so, that she had to make a poster telling me to shut up. And, I was kinda distracted with the environment. I was like, people-watching. Oh, in Macdonalds, there was this couple who just acted like cats. Yeah, the guy was just like patting the girl when she was sleeping. And today, there was this girl who was next to us, but we were seperated by glass, and she was sitting like a frog. And so, Meow and Ribbet we went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I have another piece of evidence that I can't whispher.&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: OH, he carries the same bag as Deen. OH MY GOSH, he's so gay la please!&lt;br /&gt;GUY: {supposedly turns around, according to Caroline}&lt;br /&gt;And he was like 2.5 metres away. Was I loud, or was I loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think the people who I spoke off earlier that were in Starbucks, were somewhat thinking I'm a TV show. They were like watching me, and I'm still having my Literature fever. Probably, the 3 and a half hour Literature tutorials I get every morning. Speaking of Starbucks, we spent 20 minutes outside Starbucks, contemplating, walking up and down Starbucks, thinking whether or not we should go to Starbucks, and we obviously did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, Bye World. I mean, RIBBET World!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116290259636068273?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116290259636068273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116290259636068273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116290259636068273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116290259636068273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-7-2006.html' title='November 7, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116264182717628150</id><published>2006-11-04T19:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-04T04:03:47.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 4, 2006</title><content type='html'>ANNE: Did I tell you, my aunt's pregnant?&lt;br /&gt;DEEN: &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HOW COME?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHA. Oh my gosh. That's a really dumb question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First week of holidays are gone, which leaves us with only&lt;strong&gt; &lt;u&gt;8 weeks&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; of holidays now. I only went out once, and on top of that, it wasn't even actual going out. It was meant to be lunch, but we decided to walk around. And that was it. Another whole week of school next week, which is really devastating, because I &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;thought&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt; it was the school holidays already. But, I don't think I should be complaining, on account that I would be having a solid one month holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, the whole week was rather stressful. You read me, stressful. Next year might just be a nightmare, but it might be like this year. A year where I actually learn more, and grow more. (Apparently not growing vertically) What scares me most is, the O Levels. I know I know I know. "Anne, it's a year away." A year isn't that long if you realise. Before you know it, we're the ones in the hall, waiting for the teacher to come to our table, place that horrifying booklet, with tons of questions, that may just beat me hands up and down. It's scarier reading NatKoh's blog, where she said that she heard the BIOLOGY Paper and Literature Paper was difficult. Before we know it, we're seating in the hall, with our classmates, one by one, going up to our form teachers, (guess who's mine?!) and collecting our O Level results. I think they should have the paramedics there, just in case. It's either I jump in joy or fall down on my knees in tears. And the difference can only be made by, what I dread, yet what I enjoy sometimes, STUDYING. Oh boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was talking to my parents about what I would want to be when I grow up, the other day. I think my dad wants to be my manager. HAHAHA. And I realised how much my dream have grown. To be honest, I cried when I learnt about the 3 molars with holes, because I thought that was the end of my career. Like, just because of 3 damn molars with holes. Because I was thinking that no one would hire me because I have filled up molars. On top of that, they were the last on the 3 corners. And no one would actually see it, unless I showed it to them. My dad wants to sign me up for Public Speaking Courses, Dance Class, and Singing Lessons. I know, that's a whole damn lot for someone taking O' Levels next year. I think he's really into it. And he starts listing out schools, academy's or what have you, that provides Mass Communication Course. I don't think it would be that easy actually. I mean, sure it would be fun, but what would people think of you can be quite a challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm thinking a lot about the future. It's quite fun actually, but don't let your imagination run too wild.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116264182717628150?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116264182717628150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116264182717628150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116264182717628150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116264182717628150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-4-2006.html' title='November 4, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116246906338503937</id><published>2006-11-02T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T03:30:58.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 2, 2006</title><content type='html'>I'm hoping that Santa knows how to blog hop, and then by chance, he stumbes upon my blog, and gasps, sees my &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;super, duper, triper, quatraper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; long shopping list. And when I say it's super, duper, triper, quatraper long, it really is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANNE's &lt;em&gt;never-ending&lt;/em&gt; Shopping List:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Denim Shorts&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Belt&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Pullover&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Beaded Necklaces&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Nike Tote&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Ear Studs&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tunics (Long Shirt Tops?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Roxy/Billabong Purse&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Abercrombie and Fitch hooded Top&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Haviannas Flip Flops&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cargo Three-Quarter Pants&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ashley Tisdale's Top in HSM Dance-Along&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Nike Sneakers&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;High Cuts&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;White Frilly Skirt/Dress&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Bracelet&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Necklace&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Badges&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nike Shorts&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nike Yellow Sports Bra&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Levis Watch, basically a watch la&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Levis Jeans/ Mango Denim Jeans&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Diary for 2007&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Whiteboard for Room&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Sunglasses&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Boardshorts [those elastic ones, instead of zips and buttons]&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Roxy Top&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tops from Zara, Mango, Topshop&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Orange Crumpler&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nike Cap "I &lt;span style="font-family:Webdings;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt; Air"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Faded Denim Overalls&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Nike Water Shoes&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Spagetti Strap (balloons at bottom!)&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hollister Skirts&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Tights from Zara&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;s&gt;Top from Marks and Spencers&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Honestly, it's a bit too much, but well. On account that I don't spend that much money on shopping through the year, because I have simply no time. I only get to shop during holidays, or weekends after exams. So there you go, maybe I was just deprieved. No, in fact, I'm not deprieved. I probably just did what I thought was more important at the moment. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Need I remind everyone? But ah heck, one week of our school holidays are almost over. LOL, not a very nice reminder, I know. But anyway, I'm only left with 5 days, untouched by school. The rest of the days, I have to go back. Wait, I mean, 5 days of November. 3 days in MOE Senior Leader Camp, because we are &lt;em&gt;fortunate&lt;/em&gt; enough to spend our last Camp Corri with the Secondary 2s. So we need to get training, you see. But I think it's going to be fun. I mean, why wouldn't it be? We're in charge, you know? :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Gee, everytime I see Secondary Fours in the hall, my heart starts beating so fast. I mean, we're the ones in that very hall, doing the National Examination called, "GCE Ordinary Level Examination" Oh, the horror. I don't know, I mean, even when I step foot on the second floor. Okay, sounds like I'm exaggerating. Oh, a line I heard just struck me, "School's tough, but you're tougher." That line, makes me feel all "superhero-ish." It's like, almost every single day that there's school, there's something negative to say about. But when we graduate, don't you feel like a superhero who has won, and has the last laugh. I'm ANNE ALMIGHTY, the Superheroine who beat the Homework-JOJO and the EXAMS-FAIL-GANG. But at the end of the day, we've got no one to thank but Him. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116246906338503937?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116246906338503937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116246906338503937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116246906338503937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116246906338503937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-2-2006.html' title='November 2, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116238636398522118</id><published>2006-11-01T20:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T05:06:07.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 1, 2006</title><content type='html'>Gosego, who? Tsk, you tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon stumbling into Rebecca's blog, I saw my link, and I stumbled to my previous blog, I checked out the tagboard, and I saw a tagger, &lt;em&gt;Gosego&lt;/em&gt;. I don't know who, and I want to know who. Name, male, female, and if you are from are school. If you want to tag, I would like to remind you, not only &lt;em&gt;Gosego&lt;/em&gt;, that you have a name. So kindly put your name in the box, meant for your name. It's either you tag with your name or don't tag at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116238636398522118?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116238636398522118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116238636398522118' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116238636398522118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116238636398522118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-1-2006_01.html' title='November 1, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116237354264669043</id><published>2006-11-01T17:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T01:32:22.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November 1, 2006</title><content type='html'>History was ridiculous. Imagine, two classes sitting in the AV Theatre, just listening to Mdm Chan's History lectures. That's easy to imagine. But have I mentioned, for 4 and a half hours. Sheesh, yeah, SHEESH. But I saved Caroline, and she saved me. History turned out quite fun, actually. Learning I can't whisper for nuts, and just look at our shopping list! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"You don't learn much from classrooms anymore."&lt;/em&gt; That is so true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone has got to help me! I can't whisper for nuts. Someone, anyone? It's funny how I can talk loudly yet, I can't whisper. I shouted twice during History, without knowing it, until people started looking at me. You see, I was writing a note to Caroline, and there were only two words. What's more, she was just beside me. So, by accident, I said, what I thought was whispering, "Why can't I just tell you straight in the face, what if it rains?" And then you see all the heads turning to me. How dumb. And then Clarissa was showing us how bored they got that they played Hangman. And I shouted, "SHOPPING LIST." And then you see all the heads turning to me again. And you'll see, on Caroline's shopping list, "Scotch-tape, for Anne." HAHAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of our shopping list, it is really long. And just to get every single one of it, I would need, $1325. Yes, &lt;strong&gt;One Thousand Three Hundred and Twenty-Five Dollars.&lt;/strong&gt; Any donations? The other time I had, " ANNE EFRON (: Click here to donate to her fund!" for an MSN nick, and no one talked to me, unless I started the conversation, until I changed it. HAHAHAHA. I'm thinking of getting most of it from America, on account that things would probably be cheaper there, according to my Mom, and obviously she's paying. So heh, why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24 more days, for the much-awaited trip. I'm getting all hyped up to go over to America. On account that, this is actually my first time. Every time I asked my parents when we could go, they always say, when my brothers are older. And now, finally. I'm going to shopshopshop. Gee, something just struck me. And it's to bring math or something to study in the plane ride. I think I might just sleep la.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm going to hit the books for now! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116237354264669043?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116237354264669043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116237354264669043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116237354264669043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116237354264669043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/11/november-1-2006.html' title='November 1, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116192609209189501</id><published>2006-10-27T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T22:14:52.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>October 27, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;SECONDARY THREE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;The school year has come to an end. It's a year, where there were times I love and hated school. I'm not going to say it was easy, because it never was. Secondary Three is a huge jump from Secondary Two. There are no more systems where you are only tested on what you learn for that semester. Honestly, upper secondary school life is no joke, and basically, you have no life. But then again, it's how you live it, to make life. Despite busy schedules, there's always time for a little fun, even in school. &lt;em&gt;"School's tough, but you're tougher."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, I've seen through many people, especially &lt;u&gt;you.&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm going to miss every little bit of Secondary Three, that I don't know how much I'm going to miss when I leave everyone, and everything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My bimbotic, yet not bimbotic class, secondary 3.6 (: &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/1600/32114793449751l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/320/32114793449751l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Weelyn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My BEST friend, although I know she will still be here with me (: and the ways we studied for Biology, were simply hilarious shit. Instead of studying, we were pretending to be jailbirds who refused to be exposed so we wore paper bags to cover our faces, and all that camera whoring! With the following picture done by Caroline:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/1600/30344061011977l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/320/30344061011977l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My oh-so-dear Childhood playmate, and then Council Head, and now, a really good dramatic friend :D&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/1600/DSCF0413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/320/DSCF0413.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Aha, and of course, of course, of course, The Executive Council! Meetings after meetings after meetings, planning after planning after planning, and then leading to successful school events :D &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/1600/DSCF0416.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/320/DSCF0416.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My Mid-Year Exam Study mates, Amanda and Elizabeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/1600/P1030927.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/320/P1030927.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/1600/P1030096.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/320/P1030096.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;And the fool who played a prank on me online, Natalie Koh.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/1600/SP_A0050_000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/320/SP_A0050_000.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;And Audrey Liaw, uh, or is it Paul Twohill huh? I haven't gotten those pictures I had with her on the bus to Yishun SAFRA.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And the food family, the never-ending eating.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/1600/food%20family.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/320/food%20family.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Gosh, I wish I can show anyone my diary, all my pictures are in there.&lt;br /&gt;More coming up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116192609209189501?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116192609209189501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116192609209189501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116192609209189501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116192609209189501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/10/october-27-2006.html' title='October 27, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116106884827687188</id><published>2006-10-17T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T00:07:28.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>October 17, 2006</title><content type='html'>Before we know it, we're sitting in Secondary 4.6.&lt;br /&gt;Before we know it, we're in the hairdressers', manicures' and boutiques preparing for Graduation Night.&lt;br /&gt;Before we know it, we're in the hall taking our O'Levels.&lt;br /&gt;Before we know it, we are going to the Juniour College, or Polytechnic of our dreams.&lt;br /&gt;Before we know it, we're moving on to university.&lt;br /&gt;Before we know it, we're dating the man of our dreams.&lt;br /&gt;Before we know it, we're on the entertainment industry, or the clinic, or the hospital, or the bank, or the parliament, or designing clothes, or the court, or teaching. Hopefully, not in jail.&lt;br /&gt;Before we know it, we have a stable finance support, all ready to support our parents.&lt;br /&gt;Before we know it, we're walking down the aisle about to commit something for a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;Before we know it, we're in the hospital, giving birth, to our first child, or twins, or triplets, or maybe more.&lt;br /&gt;Before we know it, we're bringing up kids, sending them to nursery, kindergarten, primary, secondary, juniour college, and university.&lt;br /&gt;Before you know it, we'd be feeling the way your parents did 25 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;Before you know it, we'd be retiring to be full-time grandparents.&lt;br /&gt;Before you know it, you'd be in front of Him, both sorry for the bad you've done, but grateful for His forgivness, love, and grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How great is life! I love life. Who cares about our parents' nagging if we didn't take it the hard way and learn from the mistakes we make when they are there trying to correct us? Who cares about the disputes we have with friends, classmates, teachers, and parents, as long as we realise we were part of the mistake? Who cares about saying goodbye, when you know you'll meet up and have Starbucks, or Subway, or whatever in the years to come? Who cares if we lived in other side of the world when we know we'd stay as friends, give each other calls, messages, postcards, letters, email? Mm. Now, you think, imagine, recall all the times you have spent with each other, laugh a little, cry a little. But do remember them, they're important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh gosh, how emo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116106884827687188?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116106884827687188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116106884827687188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116106884827687188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116106884827687188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/10/october-17-2006.html' title='October 17, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116073112210812034</id><published>2006-10-13T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T02:18:42.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>October 13, 2006</title><content type='html'>I need to shop, I need to shop, I need to shop. Honestly, I haven't taken my post-exam break. I haven't gone shopping, haven't had much fun. On top of that, it's Friday, and Marking Day, and I had to go back to school for council meetings. Moving on to this evening, I have tuition. It would be fun, I guess, but not my kind of relax, shop, kind of fun. Anyway, I might be going out on Tuesday, well, you could at least say "Finally." I don't think I might be spending much money, except for a couple of accessories I might want. Firstly, because I don't think I'll have that much money, but good news is, i might be able to save about 30 dollars over the weekends teaching my brothers. Anyway, made a list of what I'm going to hunt for, and perhaps, get it if I can afford it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01. A Sporty Bag, Nike. I might have to save up for this, unless I do well for End-Year, or at least show improvement.&lt;br /&gt;02. A Jacket, Nike. This green jacket I saw in City Hall, or maybe the pink one my mother &lt;strong&gt;wants &lt;/strong&gt;to get me. This would be pretty to convince, heh.&lt;br /&gt;03. A top, something like what Ashley Tisdale wore for the Dance-along.&lt;br /&gt;04. Sunglasses! I saw a really nice pair in Roxy, which costs a freaking 169 bucks. So I can just dream about that pair. This might be easy to convince, considering the number of times I've actually asked for Sunglasses.&lt;br /&gt;05. Nike Aqua Shoes are love too! My dad promised to get me one since I always need it for this camp and that camp, and plus, it's just 72 dollars. This is pretty easy to convince too.&lt;br /&gt;06. A belt. My current belts are really girly. You know, like the ribbon kind, and my mom bought me some sophisticated kind, which is pink. I think my mom likes buying pink stuff for me.&lt;br /&gt;07. Honestly, I want a pair of sneakers. But my dad gets so fussy about it, I choose to stick to my current ones.&lt;br /&gt;08. I want some new tops, I'll just just go check it out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kinda hope my mother would take leave on Tuesday, but chances are really low. Considering we'll be away for a month, for a holiday, where we'll do more shopping, oh my! I rather not have her take leave on Tuesday! Well, I hope she brings me out during the weekends. But maybe I'll just stay home tp teach my brothers if they're not going. I get money. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh gosh, Shopping is Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116073112210812034?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116073112210812034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116073112210812034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116073112210812034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116073112210812034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/10/october-13-2006.html' title='October 13, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-116056855509017085</id><published>2006-10-11T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T06:17:02.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>October 11, 2006</title><content type='html'>A NEW ENTRY! YES, it's a new entry. I'm updating for the first time in 2 and a half weeks, consider that fortunate. I didn't really plan to update til I get my results. Exam week has been a real spin. I get stressed right before the paper, even if I know I have studied. But I don't get stressed if nothing gets into my head. With the exception for A Math, for that, I was rather stressed, because as I did Past Year Papers, FYS, and other school's papers, I couldn't solve anything. This is a long entry, Enjoy, and don't get bored like you do in Weelyn's blog. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday, October 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my English composition was alright, but I had no inspiration to write. But no, I didn't exactly write a stereotype kind of story, I wrote a very emotional story. I mean, it was on how jealousy caused some argument, or something like that. I almost screwed up English Paper 2, if I didn't found out that English Paper 1 and Paper 2 were on the same day. While Chinese Paper 1 and 2 the day after. I manage to get a little practice. English Paper 2's passages were funny. I was like, "HAHA, this is like telling me, "Oh Anne, don't bother to lose weight to look good, it doesn't matter, because what matters in inner beauty!"" And Passage 2 made me TSK, because they said that being slim is like a billboard saying that one is healthy and is fertile, and will be able to pass down his genes. I was like TSK! Oh my gosh, funny shit. Questions were quite straightforward, but I'm rather cranky about comprehension, so I'm kind of insecure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tuesday, October 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chinese was a total disaster. Not that I was expecting that I would do okay, but because I tried to do well, I translated about one quarter of the cloze passage to English. Til I reached the first question, I was like, ERRRRRR? And I just copied huge chunks from the passage to answer the questions. Tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wednesday, October 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Social Studies almost drove me nuts. I read Chapters 3, 5, and a little here and there over and over again. It so happened that the question I did, took Part A from Chapter 5 and Part B from Chapter 6. I had to recall lessons, and use common sense for Part B, because I didn't exactly revise on it. E Math Paper was alright. I hope I did fine for both Social Studies and E Math, I should be able to pass, or maybe not. We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thursday, October 5&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Literature was, should I say screwed or should I say screwed? That doesn't leave me with much choice, does it? Mm, I think I made sense, but I don't know whether I angled my answers the right way to answer the question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday, October 6&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E Math Paper 2 was D-E-P-R-E-S-S-I-N-G. I forgot to do the last question! I lost at least 25 marks, which means, I might have to say Goodbye to A1 if my paper 1 doesn't pull me out. It was depressing, I cried. Seriously, the paper was relatively alright, more challenging than Paper 1, but I could still have scored! I mean, I didn't get to do the last question. It kinda made me hate myself for a few minutes. And it didn't get any better soon after. But the Biology Paper kind of cracked me up. I don't think I'll pass. HAHA. I guessed about 80% of it. Within a few minutes into the paper, I saw Weelyn's head down on the table. HAHAHA. She was already sleeping! At first I thought she was just tired, but she slept till the last 20 minutes, and did some work. And I giggled to myself thinking that she overslept. But nooo, she didn't know how to do. Not like I'm any better. At least she was smart enough not to waste pen ink. Mdm Sim humiliated me into the next century.&lt;br /&gt;Mdm Sim: At least for this paper I don't see anyone crying, like just now.&lt;br /&gt;Them: {Heads begin to turn}&lt;br /&gt;Anne: UGHHH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday, October 9&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was glad I could do Part A of the Structured Essay. But I only wrote assertion for Part B, firstly because I didn't understand the question, and I don't remember revising points for that. Well, at least I get a mark for assertion. I might actually be able to pass History this time round. I think I did better this time than MYE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tuesday, October 10&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Combine Science Papers were so BAD, NASTY and EVIL. I could barely do anything! So difficult la please! And I memorise quite a fair bit, and most of it didn't come out. SCREWWWW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Today&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AHH, Shoot me. I think I just lost my A1. I hope I don't lose more than that. And Mdm Sim humiliated me again. So annoying please.&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: {thinking} Oh shit, I forgot to put this page into my answer script. DIE. {raises up hand}&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: {approaches me} Yes?&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: I forgot to put this in. Can I put in?&lt;br /&gt;Mdm Sim: Yes ANNE? You forgot to put in right?&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: {Stares and nods}&lt;br /&gt;Mdm Sim: Girls, check that you have handed in the correct papers. I already have one case here...&lt;br /&gt;URGH. Does she have to do that?Back to the paper, it was rather disappointing actually, to think so many people helped me with my A Math. At least 4 la! Tsk. Spent most of yesterday, mugging like crazy. I have a friend who reminds me to sleep, yes, it was that bad. I'll be damn disappointed if I don't do well. Oh well, more to say, but ah, I'm just going to keep it in my diary. It'll remain there. AHA, suspense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, BYE, off to mug for MCQ. Lame paper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-116056855509017085?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/116056855509017085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=116056855509017085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116056855509017085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/116056855509017085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/10/october-11-2006.html' title='October 11, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115892101223784702</id><published>2006-09-22T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-23T20:20:56.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September 22, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O&lt;/strong&gt;utward &lt;strong&gt;B&lt;/strong&gt;ound &lt;strong&gt;S&lt;/strong&gt;ingapore&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 cheers and 3 cheers and 3 cheers for OBS! Firstly, I thank God for answering all my prayers (: You think OBS is torture camp? No way. OBS is different. In OBS, you choose what to do, it just depends whether the instructor thinks that it is appropriate, and there is enough time. There is no need to follow a programme, which is an utterly stupid idea, because it never does work anyway. I'm going to miss OBS. No more water spray fights, no more calling the boys, STINKBOMBS because they refused to bathe, and wanted to hug clean people. And the extra large sweat glands, Lum's (Shakleton's ultra lame instructor) jokes, us teasing each other, no more sleeping on rocks, no more catching of at least 15 planes a day, no more looking for lost equipment, no more eating bread and biscuits for lunch, NO MORE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OBS DAY 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I cried in the morning right after I got out of the car. I was already homesick even before leaving the school for OBS. Before assembly, Audrey and I sat at the back and then,&lt;br /&gt;Mdm Sim: {To Audrey} Woah, you're also going? You didn't tell me.&lt;br /&gt;Audrey: Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Mdm Sim: Eh, you all must look after each other okay?&lt;br /&gt;Anne and Audrey: OK.&lt;br /&gt;Mdm Sim: So did you bring any books to study?&lt;br /&gt;Anne and Audrey:?! {exchange glances}&lt;br /&gt;Submitted what I had to submit to the teachers, went off to give a friend her birthday present, and then off to OBS! I was really hoping I'd get into the same WATCH as Audrey, but we didn't in the end. I got into the same WATCH as Sa, Claire, Sylvie and Junie, which is TENZING, with people from Cranberra, HaiSing, and New Town. Sa almost died when she found out we were having bread and biscuits for lunch everyday. I almost died too. Not only that, because we weren't really that bonded, we were made to eat lunch with our hands tied up to the one next to you, which was not supposed to be someone from your school. And with such a way of eating, most of us just had a piece of bread. After lunch, KAYAKING! (: Partnered Joel for that. Capsized once for practice before we went out to sea. Out at sea, kayaked backwards, and normally, Dean gave us a few challenges, like, the one in front, which happened to be me, had to stand up and kayak, or to sit on the deck of the kayak to kayak. Funshit. We grouped up in 3 kayaks, and one would have to capsize. And I had to be the one, because I knew Claire was having something, and the Nabilla had the medicine bag. So left without a choice, Joel and I capsized. Pitched our tent, and where the complaining all began.&lt;br /&gt;Tessa: Why did we even come for OBS?!&lt;br /&gt;Anne: Because, a) People used propaganda, to influence us to think that OBS is fun, and we were influenced. b) because we wanted to miss a few days of school. Or c) to see SPC's natural resources of designs for her clothes. HAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;After which, we had to cook our own dinner, and it was beans, peanuts, rice, and sausages. The rice was hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OBS Day 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe it or not, we kayaked half, or more than half of Pulau Ubin. Kayaked around the island, and in swamps, where I kinda freaked out because I didn't want to pull my kayak out of the mud. What's more, we had to jump into the sea to pee, or shit, only difference was you had to take off your pants to shit. Partnered Tessa at first. But we should have known, we should not have partnered each other. I ended up having to switch partners, and I got Yu Han, and Sa had Joel. I had no wish to touch the water in the swamp after knowing why it is in such a state. We had a stopover, because we weren't allowed to go under the bridge and we had to carry our kayaks across. At the stopover, there was a bridge like thing that leads to a toilet just above the swamp. Dean peed, and guess what we saw coming under the toilet? His pee. Altogether now, EEW. We finished earlier than expected. Took a bath, and cooked dinner. After which we got our stuff ready for the next day's activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OBS Day 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trekked all the way to Campsite 1. Campsite 1 was paradise. Before we went there, we did high ropes in Campsite 2. Partnered Joel. We had to go up log to log, about 5 logs above the ground, each at least 1.7 metres apart. I could have died. We could have died. Tsk. On the way to Campsite 1, we had to go through an obstacle, we had to bring all our load, one by one, across, a set of logs. Somewhat like a balancing act. Some bags were really heavy, like those with like 8 or more bottles of water. When we reached Campsite 1, Dean told us, where our toilets were, which was supposedly the bushes, and we had to dig a hole, and we could only powderbath! Can you imagine my face change colour?! Oh my goodness la. But, it was just a dumb joke. We had proper food, as in, real fresh food. Not canned food. We were so desperate la, please! We played truth or dare, and Donovan (Dorothy) was dared to eat a bag of prunes after dinner! Oh my gosh la! Imagine how much that would make him shit la! HAHAHA :D We had to sleep on rocks, we didnt get a good spot for the tent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OBS Day 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We built a raft! And we succeded! YAY! Okay, anyway, after that, had lunch, and then back to Campsite 1. Pitched our tent where we had high ropes. Went down to get our store slightly cleaned. Cooked dinner at 5.30, finished at about 8, because food took long, and we had a water spraying fight after dinner. Since we were wet, we took a bath, and then started clearing our store. We saved at least $160 worth of groundsheets, because we found it, and we were ecstatic. Sneezed right in front of Roman, because he was scaring me by coming close because he hasn't taken a bath, and I had warned him, but no. He didn't listen, so I sneezed. We made the boys wait for us, because we heard some stories about that "100-steps" staircase to our tents. We heard there were wild boars there as well. Freaky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OBS Day 5&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like the usual last day of camp, reflection, feedback, and yada yada. It was kinda sad actually, it was so quick, like, yesterday was just Day 1. We were ecstatic to come back to school, I think we actually missed school. Gave hugs to everyone, I simply just missed them! Saw our homework, and was like, SHEESH.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115892101223784702?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115892101223784702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115892101223784702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115892101223784702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115892101223784702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/09/september-22-2006.html' title='September 22, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115841932161302942</id><published>2006-09-16T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-16T08:08:42.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September 16, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;OBS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wondering if I would be able to survive OBS, and guess what. Wondering about something like that, was a total bad move. Just thinking about it and I was about to &lt;u&gt;cry.&lt;/u&gt; OBS is five days long. The longest I've ever been away from home. Never, I repeat &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;NEVER&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt; have I been away from home for more than 3 days, and 2 nights. I think I'm going to feel homesick in OBS. I think I'm going to cry on Monday. Fine, Mommy's and Daddy's girl. Audrey must have influenced me, and now I'm an Emo Kid. But I was long an Emo Kid to start with. Sheesh. On top of missing home, I was freaking out on how I would survive not bathing for a few days. I heard we might just be doing powder bath. And what made me freak out more, was 2 things that I did not see on the pack list. They did not mention &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;FACIAL FOAM. AND SHAMPOO.&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;NO WAY. What if I get cooties?! ARGH. I think I might just cry if I get a pimple because of the lack of basic hygiene instead of puberty being a cause. Damn. Too bad, I'm bringing it anyways. There is no way, I repeat, NO WAY, am I going to get a pimple because of not washing my face. And you are probably wondering, how am I supposed to know what's the cause of that pimple? Sheesh, how would I not know. Pimples usually only come out when:&lt;br /&gt;a) You're stressed.&lt;br /&gt;b) Puberty, when nearing your menstruation, your face becomes more oily than usual, thus causing your face more prone to pimple outbreaks.&lt;br /&gt;c) Not changing your facial foam once in a while, is also not that good. Not changing it can cause pimples too.&lt;br /&gt;d) Because you don't wash your face REGULARLY.&lt;br /&gt;OOPS, I side-tracked. I might actually &lt;u&gt;consider&lt;/u&gt; being a dermatologist, but heh, I guess not. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Another reason why I don't feel that great about going for OBS, is because of my academics. I mean, it's not as if I'm doing so great, that missing ONE week of school won't be affect my results at all. And I only have a week to catch up on everything, and revise, and the next week is already exams! I don't know why I am in 3.6, when my English is totally not up to standard. I can't do comprehension for nuts, I'm just unable to give the right answers. It would be amazing to pass with B3 for Paper 1 and 2's overall. Chemistry, is another disaster. Limiting agents are huge question marks, and so is volume of gas in room temperature. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Deborah calls my joke the JOKE OF THE DAY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Deborah: See Anne, you should have taken Geography.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Anne: Geography? I don't need to. I can sit hear all day long, and stare at RuJing stone, and I will understand a lot about rocks and stones. HAW HAW HAW :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AND AND AND, Audrey, Clarissa and I played a prank on Michelle and Ethel. HAW HAW. &lt;/strong&gt;We were going back to class after recess, and I got bored, and we decided to scare Ethel and Michelle by just screaming and pointing at the floor where they stood. And they're reactions were priceless. It's funnyshit. Audrey and I died laughing. And Michelle even went, "I think a piece (of honeydew) dropped when I screamed!" OHMYGOSH, FUNNYSHIT LA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;RJ IS BEGINNING TO FREAK ME OUT.Ch'yeah Right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;She said she wanted to kill herself. And we all know why, don't we? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;LIZARD LIZ CAUGHT A LIZARD DURING P.E.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Most of us saw the lizard while playing, but after Mr Faris dismissed us, we kinda forgot about the lizard. And as Audrey and I were walking out the field, I screamed, and Audrey ran off to my left, and saw the lizard crawl, and I just screamed. And Cheong caught it with her bare hands. Altogther now, EEEEWWWWW. LIKE, EEEEWWWWW. And Iwas telling Caroline, and Michelle Cheong overheard it, and it went&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;M. Cheong: Yeah, its her third one already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Anne: No wonder she's called LIZ, it goes with LIZARD.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115841932161302942?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115841932161302942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115841932161302942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115841932161302942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115841932161302942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/09/september-16-2006.html' title='September 16, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115762876715174550</id><published>2006-09-07T21:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T06:27:02.650-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September 07, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Holidays, holidays, holidays?&lt;/strong&gt; Is it just a term that teachers give to "STUDY-BREAK" to make us feel good, that holidays are coming? Or perhaps, to make our calendars look better, knowing that the days we have as holidays are nicely decorated? Everyone looks forward to holidays, until the week before it. Ironic, I know. The fact that the closer it is to holidays, the more we dread it. Well, some of us anyway. Homework, Tutorials, CCA, Homework, Tutorials, CCA, Homework, Tutorials, CCA. And I thought holidays were for leisure, and recerational activities! &lt;strong&gt;Ch'yeah right!&lt;/strong&gt; I'm not complaining, I just think, with such schedules, it defeats the purpose of holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back to school yesterday, and today, and will go back again tomorrow. BOOO huh, well not exactly, lessons have been rather fruitful, except for err, Biology? Biology was like, HUH? But then again, since when was it fruitful? A total waste of time, I don't even know what was happening la! So I decided to just get on with my revision, beginning with Chapter 2, when she was in Chapter, uh, Chapter... Okay, I don't even know which Chapter la. I really don't know what's happening during lessons. That's the reason why I walked out of her class last Wednesday. I bet she considers it as I got kicked out of her class. It was voluntary. You know, usually, you have an intoduction of the new lesson, or some sort of recap of the previous chapter. Well, DUH, she gives an introduction. And it can be 40 minutes long! What's more, it has &lt;strong&gt;NO LINK&lt;/strong&gt; to the chapter at all. And Cheong went, "No wonder she needs 3 periods!" HAHA. Like the Chapter was on Respiration, or was it Transport in Mammals? Okay, but anyway, the introduction was on Class Cleanliness and what we should do before Standard Test, when all of a sudden it jumps into the slideshow of the Chapter! Literature for 2 hours yesterday, was rather fun, except the fact that I spilled coffee on myself, beacuse I didn't know how to use the thermoflask. What a dumb ass, please. Anyway, I won a 'Timeout' chocolate bar. EH EH EH, don't whatever me! We were tested on quotes, where we could choose anyone to answer our own question, and then if you can guess who said it, and what it means, you get a 'Timeout' chocolate bar! Quite impressive actually, I answered FAST, please, even Audrey said so. Well, a handful of people got it too. And I was hinting to Audrey, and I got smacked lightly on the elbow by Miss Kang. Heh. WOAH, but today, Literature for 4 hours. And we only did TWO scenes. But withing 4 hours, we had a 5 minute break after a few pages, and a half an hour break after a scene. I could have died, and plus, because of role play, it went on till 12.30! BUT BUT BUT, it all paid off with Pizza that Miss Kang treated all of us to! And there was so much food, please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I had a conversation with Weelyn, because of her MSN Nick, which is, "Love's like heaven, but it hurts like hell." I closed the conversation my accident, but anyway, I went on on how we understood how she feels, about Mr Lin leaving, and that she has to learn to let go. And I went on on how we'd be here for her, and how she has to learn to let go no matter how much it hurts. And I told her we know how it feels, I mean, don't we? No, maybe not towards Mr Lin, but we always lose someone, so get used to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being random, I think Mr Lin reads my blog. In fact, I don't think he's the only one. You see, Mr Lin reads Weelyn's blog, I don't see why he can't read mine, when Weelyn linked me. And plus, whether I search "Dibleydoo" or "Weelyn" or "RuJing" on blogger, this blog comes out first. Tell me why they even actually bother?! Oh gosh. Scary right? HAHA, actually I find quite amusing that teachers actually have time to do that? A bit random right? Heh. It's like, "Oh, let's be random, and read some students' blogs!" Wait, maybe not random, because Miss Kang says "random" is a teenage lingo. Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115762876715174550?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115762876715174550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115762876715174550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115762876715174550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115762876715174550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/09/september-07-2006.html' title='September 07, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115686945937017022</id><published>2006-08-31T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-31T06:38:34.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August 31,2006</title><content type='html'>It's been 12 long, tiring days since I last updated. Lack of updates, yeah, yeah, I know. Like what Chrystal once mentioned in one of her blog entries, "Hectic days, hectic lives." Well, if you thought I was free everyday, THINK AGAIN. I stay about 22 km away from school, waking up with the help of a wake up call, at 6am, to be in school by 7am. My parents send me to school, I never had to courage to even attempt to fly. Which means, I take one and a half hours to reach home. SEE, I TOLD YOU I WAS ANNE ALMIGHTY. But no, it's by God's grace that I survive (:&lt;br /&gt;For weeks, Alicia and I have been reminding each other of the PBL Webquest. The reminders finally worked. Yeah, sure. The day before the due date. Awesome, aren't we? Struggling, well, duh. But at least I hadfun. All of you are allowed to diss me for these few seconds. I don't know, but I don't feel that stressed, just slightly. I must have become numb to stress with all the stress that I got for Teachers' Day. I must say, I'm truly grateful to those who helped :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole week was intense preperation for Teachers' Day. Rehearsals almost every single day, in fact every day. Ex-co leaving school just a few minutes before or after 8 pm. And then the day came, and Ex-co had to be there by 6a.m sharp. And because of that, I had a funny conversation with my Dad.&lt;br /&gt;Anne: I need to be in school by 6 tomorrow ah.&lt;br /&gt;Dad:6?! Why do you have to be there so early?&lt;br /&gt;Anne: Because of Teachers' Day.&lt;br /&gt;Dad: And what time do you wake for Fathers' Day? 12 noon.&lt;br /&gt;Anne: What the heck? HAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;Dad: So how, you want to go to school now?&lt;br /&gt;And that was like 9.30 p.m. BOOO.&lt;br /&gt;Teachers' Day is finally over, just like, snap. Next up, post-mortem on Teachers' Day. I thought it was a total failure, until I heard comments, that it was excellent, and they loved it and all. It kinda made me feel better, but no one got the drama skit because of the mics. Ah well. Mr Roland bought Egg McMuffin for us, for breakfast :D Anyway, back to Teachers' Day. I think I went nuts. It was like running 2.4 please. One minute, you see me in the hall, then the parade square, then the music room, then in class, then back to the music room, then to the toilet, then backstage, then at the balcony, then the hall, then back to the music room, then the balcony, then backstage, then the foyer, then on the red carpet, then on stage, then at the back of the hall, then picking up litter. Oh gosh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After everything, went off to Cartel with Chrystal, although I was supposed to be having lunch with Caroline and some of her friends. But I still had to do this and that, ah so forget it. Cartel with Chrystal was funny shit please. We had pasta, and it had clams, and it had a hole after pulling it off it's shell. And we tried peering through it, and Chrystal's head is just too big, and she has to move back, but she couldn't just to let me see her head. Took pictures, post them next time. Then hopped over to Haagen Daz, and I had Summer Berries, and we stood outside figuring how to get to our destinations in the rain without getting wet. Sounds impossible, but I had this weird theory, that we won't get wet at all. So we aimed not to get wet at all.&lt;br /&gt;Anne: You know what, we won't get wet at all. We're wearing Dri-fit Dry fit). Our Ex-co shirt is Dri-fit. Wait, but your skirt. My FBT's seems to be dri-fit.&lt;br /&gt;Chrystal: Heh, I've FBT's inside. And our crumplers, are water resistant! Let's go.&lt;br /&gt;Anne: Wait la. Think of something better first, and besides, I'm not done with my ice-cream. {looks up, because water was leaking from roof} Uhhh.&lt;br /&gt;Anne and Chrystal: LOL! {Anne runs off to Marie France Bodyline advertistment}&lt;br /&gt;Chrystal: You seem to be treating Christie Cheng as your comforter. Everytime you laugh, you go towards her, and you stop laughing.&lt;br /&gt;Anne: HAHA. Okay. Done with ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;Chrystal: OH. Our shoes are not waterproof.&lt;br /&gt;Anne: Die. Mine has a hole. A hole as big as a full stop.&lt;br /&gt;Chrystal: HAHAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;And we ran off to where we were suppose to go. How silly, but funny shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've uber proud of 3.6 to have been able to collect a total of 6.18 metres of newspaper. And we did it all for MRS HENG. Everyone emphasized to Mrs Heng that we did it for her, and only her. Everyone also said that if it was Mdm Sim who made us bring, we would not even bother bringing anything, please. Mrs Heng is everyone's dream teacher. Well, at least mine. I shall not even mention the teacher of my nightmare. I guess it goes without even mentioning. Go Mrs Heng, Go 3.6. I'll pray so hard, I want Mrs Heng as my form teacher.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115686945937017022?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115686945937017022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115686945937017022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115686945937017022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115686945937017022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/08/august-312006.html' title='August 31,2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115597418777804390</id><published>2006-08-19T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T00:56:27.800-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August 19, 2006</title><content type='html'>I guess it's been almost a week huh? Well, this week has been quite happening, in terms of personal stuff. Aha, but wait, there's some stuff that I mustmustmust update about. It's so funny, your toes might laugh. Fine, at least they are to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01. Eraser Catapult.&lt;br /&gt;I wish RJ and I had catapults for our Eraser Catapults. We've been throwing small tiny erasers at people, you should see their shock face when they see something tiny fling pass them and not know what they are. HAHA. We've got a favourite target, and I think the eraser went into her ear. OOPS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;02. Michelle Koh and Sonia Chew&lt;br /&gt;Those two googoos in front of Rujing and me, are simply simply hilarious. No, not because of their jokes. Because they are sooo paranoid. They think RJ and I pasted Post-its on them, because when RJ and I laugh all of a sudden, something is wrong, definitely wrong. Fine, these two aren't that funny. But they will start touching their backs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;03. Nothing beats yesterday's PE lesson.&lt;br /&gt;OH MY GOSH LA! We're off NS yesterday because our class had 17 Golds for NAPFA, or perhaps he read my blog? Heh, I mean, he has been to some of his students' blogs. Supposedly Amanda Chan's and maybe RJ's. I don't see why anyone else is not a possible victim. But anyhow, Rachael, Weelyn, RuJing, Michelle Koh, Clarissa and me played Kiddish games like, MONKEY, DUCK DUCK GOOSE, WHAT IS THE TIME MR WOLF?, and AEIOU. I was always caught for Duck Duck Goose because they claimed they touched my leg. Haha. And then for What is the time Mr Wolf, I could have died laughing please.&lt;br /&gt;Them: WHAT IS THE TIME MR WOLF?&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: {insert time I said here}&lt;br /&gt;Them: WHAT IS THE TIME MR WOLF?&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: {insert time I said here}&lt;br /&gt;Them: WHAT IS THE TIME MR WOLF?&lt;br /&gt;ANNE: { turns back, and only turning back}&lt;br /&gt;Them: {Runs away} AHHHHHH!&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even say Dinner Time please. A second time by RJ.&lt;br /&gt;Us: What is the time Mr Wolf?&lt;br /&gt;RJ: {insert time she said here}&lt;br /&gt;Us: What is the time Mr Wolf?&lt;br /&gt;RJ: {insert time she said here}&lt;br /&gt;Us: What is the time Mr Wolf?&lt;br /&gt;RJ: {turns back slightly} UMM, what am I supposed to do?&lt;br /&gt;Anne: {drops down and laughing her ass off}&lt;br /&gt;The rest: SAY DINNER TIME!&lt;br /&gt;RJ: DINNER TIME?!&lt;br /&gt;The Rest: {Runs away} AHHHHHHH!&lt;br /&gt;RJ: Runs after THEM.&lt;br /&gt;Anne: {laughs a lot a lot more} WTH?! I'm like sitting here, laughing my ass off, and you can catch me so easily, and you had to run after them?!&lt;br /&gt;OH MY GOSH LA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hohoho, I was about to post pictures of my brother. But I guess not. I'm too lazy. Heh. Soon, I guess, when I have a lot, and I mean A LOT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115597418777804390?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115597418777804390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115597418777804390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115597418777804390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115597418777804390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/08/august-19-2006.html' title='August 19, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115545496394712713</id><published>2006-08-13T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T06:10:26.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August 13,2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;01. A visit to the dentist.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Well, I was so nervous la. But now, my teeth is a-okay. No extractions, unless, it continues to hurt. But it hurts no more (: 3 filled molars. Thank God, 2 of them are on the upper set, which means, no one can really see it, but the one in the lower set is so small, I can barely see it. But I had to get it filled to prevent it from getting bigger. It was so pain last night, I could just die. It was like, the usual pain I get whenever I eat, and something gets stuck there. I mean, I think I was suppose to feel that, because the filling is stuck there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;02. Soccer with the Family (:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played soccer this morning. YES, I play soccer. Well, it wasn't with scores and all, but it was the kids and what my brother prefers me to be calling myself, a teenager against my parents. And guess who won, THE KIDDOs + 1 TEEN. But I think we only won, because we were just playing on grassland, not a proper court, and we had walls as our goal posts. Apparently, my parents didn't have a goal post, but we did. He didn't have one, because we forbade him to. So all they could do was block our, &lt;i&gt;3-metre&lt;/i&gt; long goal post. HAWHAW. So duh, we won la. But my brother, Justin scored the MOST goals, to think he's the youngest. He's the man! Kevin, could have scored the most, but my father always managed to block most of them. But he's good anyway. As for me, oh me oh my, IT WASN'T THAT BAD LA. I scored quite a number as well, but I think I was better off cheering for my two brothers. But aye, I taught them how to kick the ball okay, which I learnt in school. I had to emphasize that it was my former PE teacher who taught me. I'm now serving NS, every Thursday and Friday, for half an hour. The General(if that's what it's called) , is Sir Jason Lin, apparently. But anyways, soccer with my family was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/1600/DSCF0465.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/320/DSCF0465.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;JUSTIN'S THE MAN! EEW, my face is like oily because of the perspiration during soccer. Oh my, my brother's damn &lt;u&gt;SIZZLINGHOT&lt;/u&gt; la. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/1600/DSCF0466.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7718/1120/320/DSCF0466.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OOH YEAH! Sorry girls, he's taken! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I bet everyone's wishing they have a &lt;u&gt;HOTHOTHOT&lt;/u&gt; brother just like mine now :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;03. Study plans :D&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;I think I should take up Maxine's idea which is mentioned in her blog, about pasting stuff I need to memorise all around my room. In fact, I think I'm going to laminate History and Social Studies notes so that I can paste them on the glass of my shower area, so that I can read and bathe, and guess what, AT THE SAME TIME! Well, but I don't want the glass all sticky, and I have to take them out whenever my maid cleans the toilet, so it may be a bit of a hassle. Oh well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115545496394712713?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115545496394712713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115545496394712713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115545496394712713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115545496394712713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/08/august-132006.html' title='August 13,2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115513485530439889</id><published>2006-08-10T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T00:18:42.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August 10, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I think life's getting pretty interesting. Okay, not that life was never interesting, and it's such a great thing, that there are some changes. It's just that, everything is moving so quickly, it's amazing how people can catch up, maintain their pace, or just pathetically fall behind. Time and Faith are the challenges here. It's not whether you're strong physically, emotionally, or intellectually, but whether you have the time and Faith. This leads to me emphasizing my hatred towards countdowns. I can't wait for so many things to happen but at the same time I don't want to rush time. Because as I rush time, some things that I don't really want to happen so soon would come along. Rahhhh. So right now, I don't care whether the holidays are near or not, because I'm afraid of losing someone when it comes ): BOOOO. I feel so badly affected of losing some people when certain days come. I'm afraid of never seeing them again, I'm afraid, we'd drift, I'm afraid we'd forget. Yeahyeah, it's true that if she/he is my true friend, those days would never come. Then why am I so paranoid? Is it my Faith? Is it me? I think it's me, I'm the one who is patheticalling falling behind. And man, that's sucks. I hate being slow in realising things. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to believe&lt;br /&gt;That I couldn't see&lt;br /&gt;You were always there beside me&lt;br /&gt;Thought I was alone&lt;br /&gt;With no one to hold&lt;br /&gt;But you were always right beside me&lt;br /&gt;This feeling's like no other&lt;br /&gt;I want you to know&lt;br /&gt;I've never had someone that knows me like you do&lt;br /&gt;The way you do&lt;br /&gt;I've never had someone as good for me as you&lt;br /&gt;No one like you&lt;br /&gt;So lonely before I finally found&lt;br /&gt;What I've been looking for&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think that it was too late to realise it at the beginning of this year, but I realise how late it is, and that sucks, a lot. RAHHH. I hope it's not just me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;CIAO.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115513485530439889?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115513485530439889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115513485530439889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115513485530439889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115513485530439889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/08/august-10-2006.html' title='August 10, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115503068782108650</id><published>2006-08-08T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T03:27:07.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August 8, 2006</title><content type='html'>I thought I had truckloads of fun today. And I actually brought part of my work to do during sports carnival because I thought I would die of boredom although I was looking forward to it. I thought it was a day when I could finally be more laidback, and just enjoy. And I did, I really enjoyed sports carnival, although I know a lot of people were not very enthusiatic about it. I guess I just had a different perspective. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Human Wheel was a very unglamourous game, but I couldn't really care much for that few minutes. To think that with a last minute formed team, we came in &lt;strong&gt;FIRST&lt;/strong&gt;. And to think people like NatKoh think we are a bimbotic class. Hurrhurr. I was really amazed by the way our class like wheeled at the beginning, because it was so fast! I mean, &lt;s&gt;I&lt;/s&gt; we thought we'd come in last. Surprise, surprise. OKAY, that whole paragraph was a total ego booster la. Who thought bimbos can't play unglam games? Okay, fine, I don't think anyone did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Sports Carnival was fun too, and we had Subway! Okay, it was fun although I was the victim one time too many. Because we saw Michelle Koh, Sharron, and Elite. And I was saying bye to Michelle Koh, and I don't know what came into me, and I just went, "Bad Girl! RAHHH" And I stuck my tongue out. And Elizabeth never stopped teasing me about that. Dung, I shouldn't have done that la. Next, after going to the supermarket, after buying some groceries for some cheerleading stuff for her church. And then, on the way to the &lt;s&gt;toilet&lt;/s&gt; Ladies, we were talking about some stuff, and then this little girl trips and fall, and i went, "AHH." No, I didn't scream. It was just a 2-second AHH? And then there, I got teased. I mean, I was shocked because she was just walking and she trips?! Okay, fine. Rather dramatic, but I don't know. Ah well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115503068782108650?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115503068782108650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115503068782108650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115503068782108650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115503068782108650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/08/august-8-2006.html' title='August 8, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115496092044436106</id><published>2006-08-07T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T07:28:40.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August 7, 2006</title><content type='html'>I'm not very sure what my mood's like right now. It's a mixture of excitement, and ecstasy, but with a tinge of anger, and a pinch of dilemma. I doubt it's mood swings, probably because a lot of things are running in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm beginning to worry about End-Year-Exam la. Nothing seems to be motivating me to actually sit down and study. I was thinking of having a deal with my mom, but I haven't thought of what I actually want. I was aiming for an improvement for a grade or two for each subject, and then get cash or a special something, that I really really want. But then again, I would be studying for all the wrong reasons. Ah well, I don't know. Okay fine, maybe the whole point is because I have a super long shopping list, and want most of it, so I'm really hoping for a National Day Present, and perhaps a Children's Day Present, how about a Weekend present. &lt;em&gt;Shut up, Anne, you're asking for too much.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when my guilty conscience comes in. I'm feeling guilty because of greed. What the hell, you might think? But I mean, I hate, and I mean, HATE. I hate seeing my parents come home all haggered after a hard day's work, and all I can ever say is, "Can I have this, can I have that?" I mean, I don't think our parents work all day long, to give us what we WANT, but to give us what we need. And plus, they sacrifice sleep every morning to send me to a school which is about 24 km away from home, by 7a.m. RAHHHH. And to think I actually want a credit card? Oh, the irony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A recipe of My mood.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup of guilt.&lt;br /&gt;1/8 cup of excitement and ecstasy.&lt;br /&gt;1/16 cup of regret.&lt;br /&gt;1/16 cup of anger,&lt;br /&gt;1/16 cup of annoyance.&lt;br /&gt;3/16 cup of gratitude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115496092044436106?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115496092044436106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115496092044436106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115496092044436106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115496092044436106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/08/august-7-2006.html' title='August 7, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115470264791518441</id><published>2006-08-05T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-05T06:34:38.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August 5, 2006</title><content type='html'>I don't think I'm in the right mind to think, because I'm pissed, and things just don't get into my pea-sized brain when I'm pissed. But, all thanks to Huang Chi, I finally straighten out my thoughts. She's great, she knocked sense into me. I think whoever can knock sense into me is great. Heh. And Caroline seems rather tough about *#($#.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, one month and I died. Because some things had hit me so hard. The pain of losing oppurtunities suck. The thought of giving away free points because they get the credit for what I do. The blame you get because people don't check their phone for important messages. In &lt;s&gt;simpler&lt;/s&gt; other words, &amp;#&amp;amp;amp;@ ^&amp;$, *#($#.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PE this week could have been almost considered fatal. I mean, it's darn tiring singing the school song and running three damn rounds around the school field. Circuit running for PE today. Oh, give me a break. Ah well, Dibleydoo's leaving soon anyway. Poor RuJing. Call Audrey a weird glorious clumsy &lt;i&gt;faller&lt;/i&gt;, but Audrey fell down in the weirdest way anyone could ever fall. Well, her reaction was like weird. I mean, usually, when people fall, they sit up almost IMMEDIATALEY, and check where it hurts, and then laugh like HOURS after falling. BUT, for Audrey Liaw's case, she, tripped, slid front a little, she rolled a little to her right, and then rolled a little to her left, sat up, and laughed within SECONDS after falling. And for Friday's P.E, RuJing, was embarrassed, because of me. HAWHAW. I pasted a post it on her back. And people started laughing at her. Michelle Lee almost told her, but she decided not to somewhat. And then people who were walking behind her, were laughing so loudly. And according to Rujing, Michelle Koh, and Sonia Chew, when people behind you start laughing, worse still, ANNE is laughing so hard, it means, that there is a post it on your back. HAHA, what the heck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O LEVEL Biology Practical last Wednesday screwed up big time. I had no idea what I was doing. My sucrose solution didn't really move much, and when i tried to move the visking tubing , the sucrose moved, so yeah, DIE DIE DIE. But aiya, there's nothing I can do know right, except try harder for other segments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom took me out to shop today. Well, was I deprieved. I was shopping quite a fair bit. I want to buy a bag, but I haven't found any nice once la, so yeah. I have even thought of a reason to tell my Mom when I have found a bag, I'll say, "Where's my NATIONAL DAY PRESENT?" Okay, righttt. Maybe not. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, off to HIT THE BOOKS. YEAH, HIT THE BOOKS. END-YEAR-EXAMS are in soon! I'm kinda worried about Biology, because for the past eight months, I've only understood the content page so far, without her help. I did it all by myself la.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115470264791518441?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115470264791518441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115470264791518441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115470264791518441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115470264791518441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/08/august-5-2006.html' title='August 5, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115418558935922710</id><published>2006-07-29T23:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T06:49:42.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 29, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I haven't blogged for a week, yeah, I know. It's been a happening week, and I didn't want to blog a few paragraphs, and so decided to just accumulate all that has been happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;01. I know that &lt;s&gt;Weelyn&lt;/s&gt; Wee Lyng is so going to kill me for this, but heck. This happened on Thursday, when Rujing and I did a countdown chart. A countdown to the day Dibleydoo leaves. Apparently, she's currently left with 43 days. Okay, back to the countdown chart. I wrote,&lt;br /&gt;"45 more days! ):&lt;br /&gt;Weelyn&lt;br /&gt;Till &lt;s&gt;UK&lt;/s&gt; do us part. "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;HAHAHA. That's because we heard Wee Lyng has "fallen in love" with RJ's Dibleydoo. Oh man, the controversy. Heh. So who will he choose? RJ or Wee Lyng. I honestly think RJ deserves Dibleydoo, because of her deep affection for him, but Wee Lyng seems to be shining truckloads more. So on Friday's P.E lesson, the girls who were playing Captain's Ball, tried to make her shine, by throwing the ball at her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;02. RJ was embarrassed a lot during Friday's english lesson. Our crappy essays were read out. And there were three essays about RuJing and Dibleydoo. Even about someone's brother being gay and watching the Winx Club, they were in it. RuJing fainted and woke up in the Winx Club, and Dibleydoo enters here. Another one about War, and Dibleydoo loses an arm, and RuJing becomes retarded. And Dibleydoo somewhat ended up married to a camel. What the heck? And the one about Love. Plain crap. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;03. RJ, Michelle Koh, Sonia Chew, and me (The door people), have been waking people up during lessons. By throwing a ball of masking tape, or an eraser. And they will just jerk. HAHA. Common Victims: Louisa, and Audrey. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;04. There had been a huge misunderstanding between me and Mdm Chan. Totally hilarious. Lousia, was combing her hair with an ah-pek comb during History. I started laughing because I was thinking of how The door people were laughing at Michelle Koh being compared to an ah-pek because she uses and ah-pek comb too. So I was rather distracted by Louisa tying her hair. And COINCIDENTALLY, her head was centralled around Mdm Chan's body. Around the chest and stomach. Fifteen minutes into the lesson, I was still staring at Lousia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Mdm Chan: ANNE, WHICH PART OF MY BODY ARE YOU EXACTLY LOOKING AT?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Me:?! HUH?! I'm looking at Lousia!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Mdm Chan: Whistle? Whistle?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Me: LOUISA. I was looking at Lousia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Mdm Chan: Why are you looking at her?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Me: I was distracted by her tying at her hair!&lt;looks&gt;I'm being honest!&lt;/LOOKS at Michelle&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Mdm Chan: Don't send the wrong signals ah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;WHAT. THE. HECK. LIKE OH MY GOODNESS?! I WAS LIKE HUH?! I swear I wasn't staring at any part of Mdm Chan's body. But heck, it was damn funny. In the middle of the lesson, she went, " Girls, be careful. Someone's staring at you from the back!" HAHAHA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;05. We went around sticking post-its on people's back. I stuck on Sonia, "ITCHY BUTT!" and RJ stuck on Michelle Koh,"ITCHIER BUTT!" But after laughing so much, they both laughed. And Sonia, stuck it on Chris. But Chris moved forward, and the post-it fell down her back. And guess what, when she stood up, it was positioned write on her butt. HAHAHA, OOPS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;06. Wee Lyng has been sent to IMH, I miss her. But I like her there. It's for her own good. It's for the better of us. HAHA. Okay, fine. We give her annual visits anyway. Haha. Weelyn=Wee Lyng, in case you don't get it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115418558935922710?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115418558935922710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115418558935922710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115418558935922710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115418558935922710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/07/july-29-2006.html' title='July 29, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115356034125151395</id><published>2006-07-22T02:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T06:51:06.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 22, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;DEEN IS RIGHT. BELIEVE IT OR NOT, SHE IS. &lt;em&gt;"There is nothing to do online anymore." &lt;/em&gt;That is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;oh so very true.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I don't really feel like blogging, but I suppose a simple update would do just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, the week was rather fun, with Audrey. Audrey and I seem to be performing some scenes in High School Musical. Uh huhh, I'm still on it. And I just watched High School Musical for the fourth time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;However, there were some things, that killed my days right smack dead. It caused my bad mood, and on top of that, I was pmsing, so if it was really bad, I'm sorry. But I've tried to be in a really good mood, but I was just really annoyed. It was a struggle between impression and title. Really bad struggle ): It's not as if I like stopping people from doing what they want. For normal human beings like me, the guilty conscience kills. But without doing what I have to do, I feel lousy. So heh ): And someone just said the four letter eff word, not fish, not four, but that bad, four letter eff word to Janna, because I told her to tell the someone to stop. BAD BAD BAD ): &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Oh well. I guess it's been really bad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Ciao.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115356034125151395?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115356034125151395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115356034125151395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115356034125151395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115356034125151395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/07/july-22-2006.html' title='July 22, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115322103543485172</id><published>2006-07-18T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T06:51:46.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 18, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;BAD MOOD. STAY AWAY. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;I'm in a horrible terrible mood. I guess, I am PMS-ing. Today has been such a horrible day, I don't even know why I'm complaining, but I'm just frustrated. I don't think I deserve what I have right now. Perhaps, she deserves it more than I do. I don't know. I'm feeling so ever lousy. BOOOO ): But then again, think about it, when was life ever that smooth sailing? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Anyhow, Chrystal called me at 5.30a.m today. Haha, i thought that was rather amusing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115322103543485172?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115322103543485172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115322103543485172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115322103543485172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115322103543485172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/07/july-18-2006.html' title='July 18, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115280350159470509</id><published>2006-07-13T23:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T06:52:11.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 13, 2006</title><content type='html'>WARNING: LAUGHING KILLS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so sorry for RuJing. I'm so sorry. BOOO me. You see, I embarrassed RuJing. So, I'm a meanie. But we, including RuJing could have died laughing. You're probably like, Cheyyyy. But NO, I embarrassed her in front of her dearest &lt;em&gt;DIBLEYDOO.&lt;/em&gt; Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After school, I went up to 3/7 to look for Caroline. While waiting outside, guess who I saw?! RuJing's dearest, &lt;em&gt;DIBLEYDOO! He&lt;/em&gt; reminds me of her, for who knows what reason. So in excitement, I ran off without Caroline, back down to my class. And I was hoping so much, &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt; won't go down through that staircase. And guess what, &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt; went down to the third floor, and &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt; was going to walk through 3/6's corridor. Oh, the joy for RuJing. I overtook &lt;em&gt;him,&lt;/em&gt; still shouting RuJing's name. I entered through the front door, and said, "RJ! RJ! Look outside! I've got a present for you!! (:" And then, she ran out through the back door in excitement, only to find her dearest &lt;em&gt;DIBLEYDOO,&lt;/em&gt; at the corner. She was so shock. Poor child. Not only that, we were repeating the scene over and over again. And each time we did it again, I noticed the way RuJing ran. And, moley macaroni! It was so weird?! Anyway, instead of running past &lt;em&gt;him,&lt;/em&gt; she walked in through the front door, back to her place. And all I saw was &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt; looking into 3/6, with that lost and confused face, staring at RuJing. I mean, &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt; saw RuJing run out the back door, and in through the front door, and back to where she was! Like oh my goodness, it's so embarrassing. And I was lauging my head off. Fine, everyone was. Heh. Hilarious. I'm sorry babe. HAHA. (: Oh gosh, I feel so bad. I mean, read her blog. She said it's all my fault. Well, it beats her trying desperately trying to catch a glimpse of &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt; right? Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to get personal about what else happened today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115280350159470509?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115280350159470509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115280350159470509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115280350159470509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115280350159470509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/07/july-13-2006.html' title='July 13, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115254632320214353</id><published>2006-07-10T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T06:52:39.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 10, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;WELL. If it weren't for the Caroline-Anne teasing session yesterday, I would have been blogging about something a wayyyy bit more personal, but now I'm stuck with blogging about stupid stuff. Blame it on Caroline. She started it. Ohkay, after much consideration of the possible consequences, it is not her fault. Not at all. All my fault. &lt;em&gt;Anne, I'm sorry. I caused us this much trouble.&lt;/em&gt; That was conscience blabber. What the heck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I have amazing call-for someone powers. HAWHAW. All I did was say whoevers name repeatedly, and YAY, out the come. Well, better still, if they were out to freak Caroline out. Heh. Fine, sorry, I was just joking. Heh, she scares me really bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) The desperate measures people take when Mdm Sim's hand is about to land on them. I don't mean to blog this as a way to mock her, but I find it rather the amusing that I observe such crap? You should see the way we dodge ourselves from her hands. Good example, the way I freaked out? Ask RuJing. She saw. My reaction, was simply priceless? Heh. I think it beats the way RuJing run after Mr Lin. Yes, I was that desperate to get away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;3) And RuJing and I did another dumb thing. I don't know why but we started talking about diarrhoea? And so I tried translating it in Chinese. And I wanted to right it down, but like how? I don't know how to write &lt;em&gt;lao sai. &lt;/em&gt;So I used &lt;em&gt;lao,&lt;/em&gt; as in old, yeah that &lt;em&gt;lao.&lt;/em&gt; And &lt;em&gt;sighhh.&lt;/em&gt; So we got, &lt;em&gt;lao sigh.&lt;/em&gt; And then we tried hardworking's&lt;em&gt; lao.&lt;/em&gt; You know, qin &lt;em&gt;lao?&lt;/em&gt; And we changed the &lt;em&gt;sigh &lt;/em&gt;to bi sai. No, not nose shit. You know, race? I mean, the race, the one where you try to come first so that you will win the race? Not race, as in Eurasian, Malay and all that. Fine, my Chinese sucks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Fine fine fine fine. I need to get personal. I'm pretty much blogging crap. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;I'm kind of proud of myself. Everything seems to have cleared out. The fog's been cleared. I finally know who's who, and how much they mean to me. It's all so clear now. I don't know. But I just hope what I have assumed is what God wanted me to assume. And as for you, I'm giving it a break. Too tired, too busy, too occupied. Somewhat, you're now at the bottom of my gotta-do list. You've just lost the importance and significance you once played in my life. Perhaps, once in a while, I feel that everything is back to normal to how it used to be, and then it's all gone the next day. It just fades. There's no assurance. But no worries, I know what I'm doing, and thinking. The priority I've given you is close to none. The ink runs out the moment I spell your name, maybe because you're already fading away? Without a goodbye, a note, a message. Fading just like that? I don't know. But there's much more people, and things out there who's worth my effort. Maybe a bit too harsh, or maybe I'm just so sick of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;And this has totally got nothing to do with the teasing session with Caroline. In fact, far far far from it. I was just being aware of what runs in Caroline's mind. That mind of hers needs a break. Heh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Ciao.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115254632320214353?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115254632320214353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115254632320214353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115254632320214353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115254632320214353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/07/july-10-2006.html' title='July 10, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115243105471357158</id><published>2006-07-09T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T06:53:36.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 09, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;WEE-AH-LYN made me blog laaa. I don't know why I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I enjoy the new class sitting arrangement, even though Weelyn's miles away, and I'm not really beside the door anymore. Rujing and I have been doing lame stuff in class. It's so lame, that maybe you'd think we're boring. But heck, I thought I had fun. I like sitting with Rujing. HAHA. Fine, even though she stones like practically 80% of the time. Okay. Here's the list of things &lt;s&gt;Siti Lin&lt;/s&gt; Rujing &lt;s&gt;bte Hamzah&lt;/s&gt; and I have been doing: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;1) I created a new name for Rujing, with the names of the teachers she finds HOT. Ask her why they're hot, because I have no idea. Mr Hamzah's married, so she can be his daughter, that's if he agrees. LOL. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;2) Once after P.E, Jolene, Audrey, Weelyn, Michelle, Ethel, and I decided to console her. Well, Mr Lin scolded us, so can you imagine how depressed Rujing is?! As her friends, we decided to console her. Jolene even took up a part time job, to be Rujing's personal councillor, or perhaps Rujing have gone to depressed, that Dr Jo might be promoted to be a psychiatrist. HAHA. Audrey got worried because Mr Lin is known to be eating little children for breakfast. She was afraid she or Rujing might get eaten. How retarded. And we were offering Rujing tissue, because she might just breakdown. Guess what I gave Rujing?! I gave her a hug, and a note that says, "Don't be so depressed, smile and be happy!" And we just continued pretending that she was depressed, and it was so hilarious. Weelyn almost wet her pants. She must have tried to really live up to her name, huh. WEE WEE. Okay, fine. I was just teasing her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;3) During Math, Rujing and I did a hot guy list! I could easily put 10 names under my name! Rujing had a pathetic 2. And I think she has given up on Mr Hamzah, because he wasn't in it. Apparently, not the other one. So I think we should stick to calling her, Lin Rujing. She still has that other one, and Brandon Routh. And with that list, we are going to make a calender like thing, thats says, "HOT GUY OF THE MONTH!" And then the picture of the HOT GUY. I wonder when I'll leave my table. I know I'll leave when it's Rujing's other HOT GUY. HAHA. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Enough of Rujing. I hope I sit with crappy people next year. Heh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I went to a KIDS PARTY yesterday. I thought I fit in really well. HAHA. It was my mom's friend's son, so his son became my brothers' friend. And so we were invited. And I was dragged cause no one would stay home with me. But the best part was, I managed to make all of the kids call me MRS EFRON. HAW HAW HAW. And you know, when you go to such parties and parents know each other, and they talk about their kids. Oh, those conversations. I had to join them. Not that I have kids, but I was interrogated. They asked if I had a boyfriend. Like HULLO?! Not yet, not yet, I would usually say. But this time, I played a joke on them! HAHA. Guess who's my "boyfriend", ZAC EFRON (: So retarded. I don't think they fell for it though. Cause my mom didn't play her role well la. She didn't add on that she have met him. GRRR. My brother made it worse, by telling them that he was just some guy I saw on TV. LIKE BOOOOO ): They ruined my plan. It's alright la. If they fell for it, I would have gone KUKU.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115243105471357158?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115243105471357158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115243105471357158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115243105471357158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115243105471357158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/07/july-09-2006.html' title='July 09, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115201220728705603</id><published>2006-07-04T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T06:56:23.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 4, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I knew it was going to be tough. It's only the beginning, I'm feeling the pressure, from everyone, from their expectations. So high, I'm afraid, they're too high for me too reach. &lt;em&gt;"There's not a star in heaven that we can't reach."&lt;/em&gt; So, I'll try, I won't let anyone down. Especially Him, He gave this to me. He won't leave me, that's for sure. And having such difficulties, is just an obstacle, which I have to use what I've got to overcome it. So far, I'm pretty much enjoying it. Oh, the irony. Since when did I like waking up early? Since when did I bother about time? Never and never. &lt;strong&gt;But sacrifices have to be made. No pain, no gain.&lt;/strong&gt; Beware of the consequences if you don't try.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Have Faith, that's all you're going to need.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115201220728705603?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115201220728705603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115201220728705603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115201220728705603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115201220728705603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/07/july-4-2006.html' title='July 4, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115168106093638265</id><published>2006-06-30T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T06:58:01.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 30, 2006</title><content type='html'>GOSHHHH. I don't know how to react. It's a complete mess. I don't know whether to believe it or not. It's too weird. BOOOOO ): My brain is like huh-ed by what I just found out. A whole train of thoughts of what could have happened runs in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been invested. YAY!(: My feet are killing me from walking about in those shoes. And I was so ever praying that I won't fall. I mean like, I tripped during rehearsal. I was so darn nervous okayyy. I mean, if I tripped, there you go. Oh, and I never knew wearing stockings were that difficult. I think I took at least 10 minutes just wearing stockings. And my tie was a huge problem, because I never got it okay. Until Tiffany did something to it. Oh, I'm too lazy, and tired. And so thanks to all those who cheered for me (: YAY!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115168106093638265?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115168106093638265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115168106093638265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115168106093638265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115168106093638265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/06/june-30-2006.html' title='June 30, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115125102479018801</id><published>2006-06-25T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T06:59:04.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 25, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://cache.viewimages.com/comp/56443905.jpg?x=x&amp;dasite=ViewImages&amp;amp;amp;ef=2&amp;ev=1&amp;amp;dareq=9B0238C52E2B0CC7F14D37CBD3D0DDBAD805826FCCC56C5AF9853570FE2EDDFB"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://cache.viewimages.com/comp/56443905.jpg?x=x&amp;dasite=ViewImages&amp;amp;amp;ef=2&amp;ev=1&amp;amp;dareq=9B0238C52E2B0CC7F14D37CBD3D0DDBAD805826FCCC56C5AF9853570FE2EDDFB" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;The OH-SO-VERY-VERY-VERY HOT ZAC EFRON :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://cache.viewimages.com/comp/56443907.jpg?x=x&amp;dasite=ViewImages&amp;amp;amp;ef=2&amp;ev=1&amp;amp;dareq=9B0238C52E2B0CC7F14D37CBD3D0DDBA8A01E3B0C1E1E63FF9853570FE2EDDFB"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://cache.viewimages.com/comp/56443907.jpg?x=x&amp;dasite=ViewImages&amp;amp;amp;ef=2&amp;ev=1&amp;amp;dareq=9B0238C52E2B0CC7F14D37CBD3D0DDBA8A01E3B0C1E1E63FF9853570FE2EDDFB" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;THE TALENTED CAST OF HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL, WITH OH-SO-VERY VERY VERY HOT ZAC EFRON ON THE RIGHT.&lt;br /&gt;ZAC EFRON IS HOT. AND I MEAN HOTTTTT! HOW CAN SOMEONE BE THAT HOT?!! YOU CAN JUST STARE AT HIM AND MELT. I WAS WATCHING HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL, AND I WAS BASICALLY GRINNING THROUGHOUT. THAT WHEN MY MOM NOTICED ME, SHE THOUGHT I WAS SOMEWHAT GAGA. BUT HE'S SO HOT! AND THE WAY HE GROOVES AROUND THE STAGE, HE'S SO SEXAYE. AND THE WAY HE SINGS, IT'S SO GENTLE, AND SOOTHING. AND THE WAY HE TREATS VANESSA, IS SO GENTLEMANLY. WHY IS HE SO HOT?! SHUT UP. I'M DEVELOPING MY INQUIRING MIND. RIGHTTTT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ANNE EFRON. ANNE EFRON. ANNE EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON. ZAC EFRON.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE ZAC EFRON &lt;3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115125102479018801?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115125102479018801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115125102479018801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115125102479018801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115125102479018801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/06/june-25-2006.html' title='June 25, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115105528760879612</id><published>2006-06-23T17:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T07:00:36.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 23, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Since Elisabeth F. has requested for a proper description of how she, and Pamela brought us around the school, I shall do so. Us, meaning, Paula, me, and Huangchi during Blind man's buff. So the three of us, were really nervous, because we had no idea where this people were going to send us to. And then this voice went, "Okay, the three of you stand up." Which I think was Frippiat. And then we went out, and I think we went to the slope area, and then we had to squeeze around the small area and no one told me there was a pole, but luckily, I didn't walk with my head in front. Me, being smart, used my toes to feel what may happen if I move another step. And aha, there was a pole. No, not a pole. A pipe. I heard Ruzy's group was made to the pole dancing. HAW HAW. And then, Frippiat made us do some Phantom of the Opera tune. Like ?!!! And the pole wasn't the only thing I almost bumped into, I almost bumped into a wall, and you know, the swing door kinda thing in the hall. And Yiling opened our shirts, and sprayed water in them. Haha. And I heard someone made Jingyin open her mouth, and that someone put a leaf in! HAHAHA. So anyhow, we were all dripping wet. I mean, they made me lie down on the festival court, and then sprayed water on me. Well, not as bad as the other groups, who got brought to the toilet, and was showered under the shower head. And I heard, someone's leg got dunked into the toilet bowl. Altogether now, EEW. And then they made us waddle on grass! I mean, I was wearing red, and I thought I would have looked like a blind bloody red duck. So un-glamourous. It's so hard to describe things when you can't see them. Stupid blindfolds. But I do remember a flower, a flower tickling me around my neck and my arm. And a pole someone used to stop me from going through? Oh well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115105528760879612?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115105528760879612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115105528760879612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115105528760879612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115105528760879612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/06/june-23-2006.html' title='June 23, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115081364313711869</id><published>2006-06-20T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T07:01:10.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 20, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;I LOVE EXECUTIVE COUNCIL CAMP. I thought I had fun. I thought it would be some sort of torture camp, where they train you harshly, and then they give you horrible food, and rush you through your shower. But no, although training was really long, it was balanced with games. And food, oh glorious food, was a buffet. And after lunch, 2 hours later, we get a tea break. So much for using camp to lose weight. And meal times, are one hour. Yes, one hour. And they try to make you go for second and third rounds, so how much weight do you think I gained? Oh, don't bother. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And, we had a game of, BLIND MAN'S BUFF. Funfunfun. So we were blind folded, and sitting in the Multi Purpose Room. And I was with Paula, and Huang Chi. And we were all rather nervous, and Tara, had to come near me, and she used her finger, to gently slide her finger down me. And I was like, OHKAY, and I was screaming and jumping about like blind monkey. And she was like, "HI." And I was like,"who are you?" and she was like, "you don't know me ah?" And she was using her flirty voice, and it would really make your hair stand. Well, at least for me. And the game ended in the canteen, in front of our dinner. We played some sort of murder mystery as a Night Walk. The answer was obvious, but Huiling and I somewhat decided to choose the un-obvious. Yes, what the hell, and why the hell. Oh, Paula and I had this never-ending "How you doing?" thing we got from F.R.I.E.N.D.S. which was often said by Joey Tribianni, in a very&lt;em&gt; pervert-ish or pervertic,&lt;/em&gt; tone. Ah well, other Ex-co members, may have a blog, and may have blogged about this, so go read theirs too. Hey, that was like free advertising for their blogs. No charge, okay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115081364313711869?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115081364313711869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115081364313711869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115081364313711869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115081364313711869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/06/june-20-2006.html' title='June 20, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115062012188125768</id><published>2006-06-18T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T07:02:03.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 18, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;HELLO WORLD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;GOD ANSWERED MY PRAYER. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;YIPEEDEEDOODAA &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;YIPEEDEEDAY &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MY OH MY &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;WHAT A WONDERFUL DAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is awesome. Awesome. A-W-E-S-O-M-E. E-M-O-S-E-W-A. I'm going to church to thank Him later (: You'll find out why I am so happy, in, hmm, a few weeks time. So happy waiting. Heh. (: And you will understand how much the idea irked me, if you see how overjoyed I am. Now, at least, I'd be a little happier going to school knowing that I did't get it. YAY! We shall rejoice (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115062012188125768?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115062012188125768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115062012188125768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115062012188125768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115062012188125768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/06/june-18-2006.html' title='June 18, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115047209846108377</id><published>2006-06-16T23:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T07:02:30.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 16, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Screw my lousy laptop :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Anyhow, today's dinner was awesome. Awesome food burnt a hole in Daddy's pocket. Dinner was at Ritz Carlton. It was a buffet, and I think I gained 20 pounds. I was pretty much preparing for a buffet, thus I didn't eat much for lunch. I looked 12. I act 12. However, I don't eat 12. Still, Daddy paid the price of a 12-year-old's for me. Heh. As usual, the height, and the child-like actions. Oh, maybe not growing that fast is not such a big problem after all. Mom said, if they had a chart for customers, with photos of them. I may have gotten it. She said, and their comment would be,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;THE GIRL WHO DOESN'T HAVE PREFERENCES OF FOOD, WHO EATS ANYTHING ON THE TABLE. AND THE GIRL WHO CHERISHES EVERY BITE. THE GIRL WHO MAKES SURE SHE DOESN'T WASTE HER FATHER'S MONEY. THE GIRL WHO TRIED MAKING SURE SHE TRIED EVERY SINGLE DISH, TO THE EXTENT THAT SHE WANTED TO TAKE NOTE OF THOSE SHE MISSED, AND MAKE SURE &lt;em&gt;ATTACKS&lt;/em&gt; THEM THE NEXT TIME.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Whateverrrr. There were lots of other jokes about each other, and I think I laughed til I ruined the ambience of the restaurant. OOPS. Heh :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Silent Hill tomorrow. Ex-co camp's on Monday to Tuesday. She's the Man on Thursday, hopefully and if so, finally. Marche on Thursday or Friday, again, hopefully and if so, finally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115047209846108377?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115047209846108377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115047209846108377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115047209846108377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115047209846108377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/06/june-16-2006.html' title='June 16, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115038635281295372</id><published>2006-06-15T23:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T07:03:09.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 15, 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I deleted every entry. I didn't want to be reminded of what happened to the clique. I don't think there's anything I can do anyway. Nah, not giving up. But, I'm just going to leave it to the hands of God, He will lead me to do something right about it, that is, if we He wants me to save it. So there, I rest my case. Moving on, leaving that behind or not, that, I don't know if I can do. But anyhow, I'll try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran today (: I ran alone. Well, it was another of those,&lt;em&gt;"oh, let's think," &lt;/em&gt;moments. Yes, I have &lt;em&gt;"oh, let's think"&lt;/em&gt; moments. Go ahead, laugh. But it was good (: And I thought, why do we always need someone when we already have SOMEONE like Him? And then I wondered so much and I think I came to a few conclusions, which may not be right, because it was a question I have and had, and I want to know about it as well.&lt;br /&gt;1) Since we're all God's instruments, He may be using these close friends we have to deliver messages to us, giving us hints. But then again, they may be messages of the devil, so hmm.&lt;br /&gt;2) A shoulder to lean on, physically, when emotionally hurt.&lt;br /&gt;3) &lt;strong&gt;ONE &lt;/strong&gt;of God's Greatest gifts (:&lt;br /&gt;4) Family : Is a group of people who may never turn their backs at you. Who should be the ones who gives you a sense of belonging, and a sense of stability, a sense of comfort.&lt;br /&gt;5) Friends : Are people who will try to be there for you. You're not first on their list, so don't ask too much from them. Who gives you accompaniment, "your-age" advice.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder, what else?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;And tomorrow's going to be an eventful day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;1) Kevin's (my brother) 9th birthday (: 2) Mom and Dad's 16th Wedding Anniversary &lt;3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115038635281295372?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115038635281295372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115038635281295372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115038635281295372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115038635281295372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/06/june-15-2006.html' title='June 15, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28989241.post-115043901106776234</id><published>2006-06-15T23:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T07:04:04.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>June 15, 2006</title><content type='html'>I kinda figured that I have a whole pile of homework waiting to be done, and not waiting to be neglected. And I haven't done much revising, and much homework. But come on, look at the pile:&lt;br /&gt;1. Pure Literature Macbeth Assignment&lt;br /&gt;2. English Distinction in Comprehension Practice Paper 2 Pg 121-126&lt;br /&gt;3. English Distinction in &lt;em&gt;Vocabulary/Comprehension(?)&lt;/em&gt; Units 2,3,5&lt;br /&gt;4. English Composition (Exam Paper)&lt;br /&gt;5. English Comprehension&lt;em&gt; about some devil&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;6. A Math Exam Paper Corrections &lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. A Math Standardised Assignment&lt;br /&gt;8. Chinese Compehension&lt;br /&gt;9. Biology's 3 Structured Essay Questions&lt;br /&gt;10.E Math Corrections&lt;br /&gt;11. E Math Online Homework&lt;br /&gt;12. E Math Online Homework (There's 2)&lt;br /&gt;13. Social Studies Source based Question&lt;br /&gt;14. Social Studies Structured Essay Corrections&lt;br /&gt;&lt;s&gt;15.Chemistry's 3 pieces of worksheet.&lt;/s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. History's League of Nation&lt;br /&gt;17. History's PBL Webquest&lt;br /&gt;18. History Corrections&lt;br /&gt;19. Physics' 7 Quizzes&lt;br /&gt;20. E Math Exam Paper Corrections(?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that's all. We have 9 days. Die die die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28989241-115043901106776234?l=maturelywild-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/feeds/115043901106776234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28989241&amp;postID=115043901106776234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115043901106776234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28989241/posts/default/115043901106776234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://maturelywild-.blogspot.com/2006/06/june-15-2006_15.html' title='June 15, 2006'/><author><name>Anne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
