<?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-2303426564741981920</id><updated>2012-02-16T23:44:25.649+08:00</updated><category term='l'/><category term='i'/><title type='text'>dream a little dream</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>496</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-8268951501723079460</id><published>2010-07-06T15:44:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T16:00:44.445+08:00</updated><title type='text'>BOOM</title><content type='html'>Yayyy school has started.. CAN YOU FEEL THE ENTHUSIASM FROM WAY OVER THERE? Ergh. I seriously do not want to start classes again. I don't know why. I can deal with the friends everyday but the work? I don't feel like it. Maybe because I'm starting all over again with classmates and lecturers that are foreign (not to mention that 80% of them are foreigners). I want my old ones back. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's always like that, the minute I start to fall in love with my classmates (down to the most annoying one, because you know, I'd hate not hating them), I realize that I had waited too long. I've waited til the last week of the semester to actually like them. Idiot I are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday, I stepped on to campus grounds! SO MANY PEOPLE OH MY GOD WHERE DID THEY ALL COME FROM? Then I found out that it was the orientation day for a few, if not all the pre-u courses. But I met so many missed chickadees! Everyone was happy to see everyone, and I mean EVERYONE. Hugging Keithypu was the best and Hanisah noticing the subtle change of colour of my hair was so sweet, and ARUNA homaigosh Aruna I've not seen in ages it was so nice seeing her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the most epic part was asking Mr D how I got a 90% for Econs. I know, show off kan. But it's been a pretty long time since I've achieved a ninety for ANYTHING.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mr D: Well, actually you got 88% I just bumped it up to ninety because, you know, I'm a nice guy.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Aina: ARE YOU SERIOUS?! (At this point I was so disappointed and sad!)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mr D: Noooo I'm just kidding, what can I say, you kicked ass.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MAPCU TOMORROW. I'm going to miss training. But I'm not going to miss the ugly prints that have recently taken permanent residence on my thumb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-8268951501723079460?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/8268951501723079460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=8268951501723079460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8268951501723079460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8268951501723079460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/07/boom.html' title='BOOM'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1384605488183040623</id><published>2010-06-28T22:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T23:10:26.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;I want to study in Canada :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1384605488183040623?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1384605488183040623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1384605488183040623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1384605488183040623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1384605488183040623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/06/hi.html' title='Hi'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-8034169545101377203</id><published>2010-06-25T23:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-25T23:57:52.777+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sigh</title><content type='html'>Strike three. You know what;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;FUCK IT! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Can't believe this is happening, what the fuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was a good bowling day. Not score-wise, but fun-wise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-8034169545101377203?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/8034169545101377203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=8034169545101377203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8034169545101377203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8034169545101377203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/06/sigh.html' title='Sigh'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6722039295092891132</id><published>2010-06-24T15:30:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T15:36:58.438+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whirlwind</title><content type='html'>I'm watching Hell's Kitchen online now. It's so addictive. Yes I love drama. But sometimes relationship drama(s) aka The Hills kind of drama gets old. I need some, drama, that isn't pointless. No bullshit man, you screw up you leave. No second chances. With relationships second chances are one way tickets to hurting more the next time things plunge down from a high cliff. Sometimes they turn out for the good, and the probability of that is probably more smaller than a bacteria's head.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've got pictures from my birthday though, well, birthday tea+dinner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TCMKyJBhmMI/AAAAAAAABTc/QS1kHygJomY/s1600/34065_1491789816036_1272744134_1335272_5657777_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TCMKyJBhmMI/AAAAAAAABTc/QS1kHygJomY/s400/34065_1491789816036_1272744134_1335272_5657777_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486240627599448258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TCMKxHKQL8I/AAAAAAAABTU/_csKG3xXhpA/s1600/34065_1491789616031_1272744134_1335267_2810441_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TCMKxHKQL8I/AAAAAAAABTU/_csKG3xXhpA/s1600/34065_1491789616031_1272744134_1335267_2810441_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TCMKxHKQL8I/AAAAAAAABTU/_csKG3xXhpA/s400/34065_1491789616031_1272744134_1335267_2810441_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486240609919315906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I look like a man. Hoho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE BEST PERSON IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD IS GOING TO ARRIVE SOON IN ABOUT SEVEN HOURS. YES YES YES YES YES. LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6722039295092891132?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6722039295092891132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6722039295092891132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6722039295092891132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6722039295092891132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/06/whirlwind.html' title='Whirlwind'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TCMKyJBhmMI/AAAAAAAABTc/QS1kHygJomY/s72-c/34065_1491789816036_1272744134_1335272_5657777_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-3240239116347036326</id><published>2010-06-24T03:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T04:10:04.773+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're my sweet sweet song</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TCJp-1yV6sI/AAAAAAAABTM/oEbo68o9t1w/s1600/Picture0010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TCJp-1yV6sI/AAAAAAAABTM/oEbo68o9t1w/s400/Picture0010.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486063824401722050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I &lt;b&gt;know &lt;/b&gt;I need to sleep earlier.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;TODAY has been such a OMGWTF APA NI APA NI APA NI day. Sigh. It hasn't been fun. But I must say, I wasn't totally affected by this OMG WTF APA NI APA NI APA NI day. I was for a bit, but then I got over it. I think I'm at a point in my life where I can honestly be brutally honest with myself by realizing what's fantasy and reality. Because in reality, I won't get half the things I fantasize for unless I know it's achievable. Like how?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like, moving states to be with the guy I am currently head over heels for. Hello, it's never going to work because I'm still young, he's all grown up and &lt;b&gt;he has a girlfriend in the same hometown. &lt;/b&gt;No use getting beat up over it. It would've never worked anyhow. I can never ever do long distance relationships and I said I would never ever get into a relationship until I get my degree, right? Because you know, I plan to be studying here there everywhere. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like, being valedictorian next semester. Hello, it's absolutely possible. Everyone has a fair chance. All I've got to do is to prove that I am more worth of being one than the other candidates -not that I am one, but you know, I aspire to be. &lt;b&gt;THAT &lt;/b&gt;is worth shutting myself in my room and crying my eyes out if I don't at least get nominated. Because every night before I fall asleep, I make up a speech in my mind. I can do this!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So you know, sometimes we just need to know when and what to give up, and when and what to give in -to emotions, that is. Because honestly, it's what makes or breaks a person. What if you wake up one morning and discover that you've wasted lots of precious time to find that you have been wallowing in self pity over something or someone that was not worth it, or wasn't even going to happen anyway? It's such a waste of time, breath and tears. You know so what if he has a girlfriend? They're not married, are they. HEHEHEHE. No lah, seriously. It's not the end of the world. And the world usually have other and much bigger plans for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But seriously though, if I don't even get to give my 'Vote-for-me-for-Valedictorian' speech, I'd seriously cry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-3240239116347036326?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/3240239116347036326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=3240239116347036326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3240239116347036326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3240239116347036326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/06/youre-my-sweet-sweet-song.html' title='You&apos;re my sweet sweet song'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TCJp-1yV6sI/AAAAAAAABTM/oEbo68o9t1w/s72-c/Picture0010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-7356772567940168075</id><published>2010-06-19T14:39:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T14:54:12.061+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All this while</title><content type='html'>...I thought that I've been faking my injury. I mean, it hurt and all, but everytime people ask me why my fingers are wrapped with tapes, I just say "My tendons are swollen." Pfft. I'm wrong. It's my ligaments!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(4, 52, 119); -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Geneva, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;h2&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;What is a Sprained Finger?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;A sprained finger occurs when the finger is bent in some way causing damage to the ligaments which connect bones together. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Geneva, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;It is common for the ligaments at the side of the finger (collateral ligaments) to be damaged.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;OooooOoOoOoooh. At least it's common!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(4, 52, 119); -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Geneva, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;Symptoms of a Sprained Finger:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;Pain over the joint in the finger where the damage has occurred.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;Pain when bending the finger and stressing the injured ligament.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;Possible swelling over the joint.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;Restricted mobility and movement in the finger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;Instability in the finger if the injury is severe or a complete rupture of the ligament has occurred.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ahaaaaaaaaa. Check, check, check, check, check not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(4, 52, 119); -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:Geneva, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;h3&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;What Can the Sports Injury Professional Do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;Advise on rehabilitation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;Rest the finger and apply ice. Ice massage with a single ice cube may be suitable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;Tape the finger to protect it while it is healing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6666;"&gt;Operate if required for example on a complete rupture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rehabilitation? Forget it. I haven't got time to make my fingers go to rehab. Check not. MASSAGE WITH ICE! Heavennn, check. Tape the finger -have always done that, check. Operate? Eee. Check not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yes, today was a better day of training, yesterday sucked so bad. But today, only three of us showed up. Edward Cullen on the lane next to mine and Qwer's. Yes Qwer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Why did you put your name as ...?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Qwerrrrrr..." *Hand gestures included*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Uhuh, Qwerrrrr..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Because I don't like to put my name."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"So you just press random letters?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yeah."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ohh, awesome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At least he's fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, this injury (or mental illness) has been around with me since I was 15 I think. I don't know if it's the ball ke apa ke but I don't intend to find out. I always have this mindset that I'm not going to bowl anymore, but I do. Haha. But when I do, it's intense for a bit, and then it plateaus and just disappears. I don't see the point of getting a new ball or drilling the ball again (because I think my fingers have either shrunk or elongated as they don't fit nicely anymore). Ball insert tapes (?) are making me happy. And the vanilla scented puff ball. HAPPY!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;EMY'S COMING BACK IN 4 DAYS WEEHEEHEE! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-7356772567940168075?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/7356772567940168075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=7356772567940168075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7356772567940168075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7356772567940168075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/06/all-this-while.html' title='All this while'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-253078976766368549</id><published>2010-06-16T02:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T02:57:22.081+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I KNOW BUT I JUST LOVE JUSTIN BIEBER!</title><content type='html'>Hello!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anis is fifteen today. Very old kan? I made chocolate cake from scratch. I don't like it because it ain't sweet. The rest of the people living in this house loves it, including Patchi the cat -maybe because Patchi is named Patchi, like Patchi chocolate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TBfJifQIpDI/AAAAAAAABTE/EyW-7uQbnjU/s1600/32032_406066788275_563158275_4209562_3676947_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TBfJifQIpDI/AAAAAAAABTE/EyW-7uQbnjU/s400/32032_406066788275_563158275_4209562_3676947_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483072665688777778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And yes I know I look funny don't remind me. The sprinkles was Anis' idea. She wanted it to look like the cake in Cake Mania, this game Mummy is addicted to, where she has every version imaginable on the Nintendo DS I found on flight to Jakarta in March and on her micromini laptop! And if you were wondering, my tshirt says &lt;i&gt;2469 days since the last time I gave a shit&lt;/i&gt;. And mummy was the one who bought me that. WAS SHE TRYNA TELL ME SOMETHING? Oh well, I never wear it outside the perimeter of my house anyways!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope tomorrow's going to be a fun day. We're anticipating mani pedis, hair, the works! I hope people WORK tomorrow, seeing as on my birthday, everyone was on leave and off and whatever nonsense. I don't really care about the hair, I want my nails done real badly!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, Keith's back from Indo it was so nice talking to him -in a way. I felt tortured talking to him. Yes, it's Keith alright. I can't wait to see Mel though, I really miss my blonde moments with her. I don't know when she's coming back from Libya :'(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh oh, I watched this video of a three year old girl named Cody bawling her small little eyes out over Justin Bieber because she loves him. Anyhow, this is the link &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dTCm8tdHkfI"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dTCm8tdHkfI&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Why do you love Justin Bieber?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Because I know he loves me back!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;AWW! The end of the video is the utmost adorable thing I've ever seen in my life! She got to meet Justin Bieber in the end. And after watching that, I'm not a Bieber hater. He was so nice about the whole thing. But no dude, I do not have Bieber Fever. I have Cody fever!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-253078976766368549?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/253078976766368549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=253078976766368549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/253078976766368549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/253078976766368549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-know-but-i-just-love-justin-bieber.html' title='I KNOW BUT I JUST LOVE JUSTIN BIEBER!'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TBfJifQIpDI/AAAAAAAABTE/EyW-7uQbnjU/s72-c/32032_406066788275_563158275_4209562_3676947_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-2664903655653416997</id><published>2010-06-15T13:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T13:57:52.246+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes I do!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TBcV1T1mzpI/AAAAAAAABS8/LWMMzXA24do/s1600/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 338px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TBcV1T1mzpI/AAAAAAAABS8/LWMMzXA24do/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482875076949233298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Guess who's coming home next week and guess what's she bringing home to me? I CAN'T WAIT TO WEAR IT! I love love love love love love love love love love love my best friend. Times a million.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-2664903655653416997?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/2664903655653416997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=2664903655653416997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2664903655653416997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2664903655653416997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/06/yes-i-do.html' title='Yes I do!'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TBcV1T1mzpI/AAAAAAAABS8/LWMMzXA24do/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1506904468210575252</id><published>2010-06-12T21:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T21:03:55.007+08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOOK WHAT I DID</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TBOFZyQzgEI/AAAAAAAABS0/_2AOlfRLw6o/s1600/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFmR0OEZYU0oyM3hHQUp3Snd3RW5mR0EAAAACaWQKAXgAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TBOFZyQzgEI/AAAAAAAABS0/_2AOlfRLw6o/s400/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFmR0OEZYU0oyM3hHQUp3Snd3RW5mR0EAAAACaWQKAXgAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481871849475506242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I picked everything on here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1506904468210575252?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1506904468210575252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1506904468210575252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1506904468210575252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1506904468210575252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/06/look-what-i-did.html' title='LOOK WHAT I DID'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/TBOFZyQzgEI/AAAAAAAABS0/_2AOlfRLw6o/s72-c/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFmR0OEZYU0oyM3hHQUp3Snd3RW5mR0EAAAACaWQKAXgAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-3993681492743222532</id><published>2010-06-11T01:02:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T01:26:11.139+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't want to be anything other than what I've been tryna be lately</title><content type='html'>I do not know what's wrong with me. I don't want to layan people, I don't want to layan my phone, I don't want to layan movies, I don't want to layan the internet, I don't want to layan any drama, and I pretty much don't want to layan anything. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can I please, take a break from everything? And can I please be selfish, and not nice for once in my life?  Can I please just have a moment to waste time and not do shit? Because really, all I want to do, is cook (which is impossible because everything that I do want to cook, I don't have the ingredients so, defeats the purpose, so I go through cookbooks and watch cooking channels all the time! It's not about eating, it's about creating, so I create a sandwich everyday, now that, is LAYAN), and wait for Keith, Mel and Emy to come back! And all I want to do is go shopping. I wish I was a billionaire right now because I'm such in the mood to spend money. Yes the correct term is SPEND money not waste it. Therefore, by clothes instead of food (clothes last forever), and therefore, no ingredients for shiz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perhaps I'm being selfish, I am being selfish. But people around me have been selfish 90% of their time and I've always had to cater to that. Why should I? What do I get of it? It's not like they're there when I really need them. It actually surprises me the people who were indeed there the last time I really really needed them, and it's also surprising who I wanted to be there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I think I'm over people treating me and talking to me like a baby. I'm not a baby anymore. The only person that can treat me like one, is perhaps, my boyfriend-to-be whoever he is, and if he is indeed the one, he would know when to treat me like one and when not to. I don't need "It's okay sayang, it's going to be okay, you're my little girl, I'll always be there for you," kind of nonsense. I kind of need in MY FACE truth, with no sugar coatings whatsoever, because I figured, that's the kind of thing that makes me snap out of my dilemma.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And anyways, I'm done taking extra miles for people who won't take the extra trouble for me. Because seriously, they're not worth the trouble. And the thing is, I don't know why people are so, greedy and very, cunning? They're smart because they know the things they can say to make me do this and that for them, and do nothing for me in return. Why? I on the other hand, know who I want and need to take the extra mile for, and I'd do it. But sometimes, when I don't need someone to take the bullet for me, and they still do it, I have no control over that -and I'm sorry, I won't die for you. I never needed you to dodge the bullet for me, I wasn't the shooter's target anyhow, and most importantly -I never &lt;b&gt;asked &lt;/b&gt;for it. That's the difference. People who ask me to go the extra mile for them and never even THINK to give anything back it return when I need the extra mile, are users. I, who have some people do things for me, without me asking, without me needing it, without me even liking it, just need a little wake up call, that I'm just not where they want me to be. And they're really fine without me you know? I don't abandon them, I don't, but you know, they're better off with someone better suited for them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I use to think that I was conceited in behaving that way, but in a way, I am not wrong. Why bake me a chocolate cake when I hate it? Okay maybe not chocolate cake, cheesecake!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, I love wasting time on my blog, it's been awhile since I've done this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to do some soul searching on YouTube now. G'bye! Toodleloo!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-3993681492743222532?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/3993681492743222532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=3993681492743222532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3993681492743222532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3993681492743222532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-dont-want-to-be-anything-other-than.html' title='I don&apos;t want to be anything other than what I&apos;ve been tryna be lately'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-2508928705172287773</id><published>2010-06-09T00:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T17:05:27.080+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's de-lightful, it's de-licious, it's de-lovely!</title><content type='html'>SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a lot's been happening since I last posted anything on here! Time to tell stories.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Firstly, I have to say that my new house is really nice. I love my room, and my bed, and the way the house makes me feel. Extra happy to be doing chores for it. Andrew said it's nice, too! I especially extra love the kitchen. Makes me want to cook all the time. Which is kind of bad. I'm going to have to start jogging tomorrow. I don't care, I &lt;b&gt;have &lt;/b&gt;to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways. I'm finally eighteen! I seriously can't believe the amount of wishes I got on Facebook and on my phone! I will reply them tomorrow when I have more free time. It's been an eventful day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It all started on the 7th, a day before my birthday, Hanisah told me she got her final results through post. And I was freaking out! I wanted my results too! So I ran to the home office and told Mummy that we just had to go back to our old house stat to get it my letter! So when I got there, it was in the mailbox, and almost wrestled with Mummy to the ground because she said it was hers to open because the letter was addressed to her! But I opened it anyways. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;WAS SO SO SO HAPPY WITH THE RESULTS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Because firstly, I got an A for ENG4U! Barely, but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;80&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;! Seriously, an A for 4U?! I don't know how that happened. The sleepless nights, the writers' block, the Shakespeare the poems the novels, the blood sweat and tears, the de-motivating criticism, EVERYTHING was worth it. It is by far the most difficult thing I'd to do in my life, but I'm glad I did it, and I'm glad that a part of me is actually changed and refined because of it. Seriously, it's left me with subconscious skills like analyzing books and lyrics and movies and people and pretty much every single thing I see!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;My Maths marks went down :( But thank God it's still an &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;82&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;And Econs? Hehehe &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;90&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;! I thought it was pretty much impossible for me to get a 90 for Econs since I had to get a 92% for my final exams to be able to get a 90, but I did it. I guess asking for extra papers to write a whole booklet and a half of answers was truly, and very worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm very proud of myself. I need to keep it up because I want to EARN my scholarship, and I want to earn the title as valedictorian next year. I need this for myself :) These are definitely short-term goals that I am on my way of achieving!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So todaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Went around Mid Valley with Mummy and Anis to get a dress, and of course, it's at the last place I look. Wanted to have mani pedi but of course, everyone's full and on leave and off and stuff like that. Murphy's law! Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong! But I still had a lot of fun. Despite the sulking that lasted 10 minutes after I couldn't get my mani pedi haha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was so happy to get to TGIF where my friends' angry (because I was late) and happy faces were smiling back at me! Haha! I can't believe how many of them turned up, I feel so blessed. I feel like I want to buy them all individual presents. It was going so well, Jess'ca urging me to open the present she and Tim got me as soon as she saw me (MAC man, SO FREAKING AWESOME!), Jin stealing my chicken, them ajak-ing me for shisha (but I was too chicken, and kind've tired haha), Andreas hesitating to hug me when I wanted to give him one, talking to my awesome friends from Econs class, seeing Nadia and Lucky eat their beef ribs, EVERYTHING -until the Friday's people had me stand on my chair for the song.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I knew that was coming, but shit dude, I didn't know I was going to get it real bad. Fine, stood on the chair, sang a song, THEN they brought out whipped cream. They said I had to get the cherries inside with my tongue. Well duh, I knew if I agreed the dude will definitely pie my face. He did it the first time, and it was fine, it didn't get to my hair. The second time he did it, my wonderful Jin pushed the plate into my face real badly that it got into my hair and my nose and my eyes and EVERYTHING!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! My friends had a very sorry look in their eyes when they saw that. Haha I love them for it. Was okay at first, then when I got to the toilet I looked so bad, I was sad I couldn't take nice pictures after that :( Cz I initially wanted to take many pictures today, to document turning into an adult! But ta heck, it's just whipped cream right? Managed to get all of it out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got really nice presents though! So many accessories! I don't have to shop for accessories for when classes re-open. They were really nice! I got nail polish and tshirts and scarves and FLOWERS (Gerbras! My favourite!), and make-upppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was an EVENTFUL and UNEXPECTED 18TH! I loved today. Thank you everyone, I love you guys very very &lt;b&gt;very &lt;/b&gt;much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can't wait to spend it AGAIN with Emy and also Keith, Mel, Helen and Stephanie. I miss them all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you God for giving me life for 18 years (and counting!). You've given me countless blessings and I am really grateful. Alhamdulillah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-2508928705172287773?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/2508928705172287773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=2508928705172287773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2508928705172287773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2508928705172287773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-de-lightful-its-de-licious-its-de.html' title='It&apos;s de-lightful, it&apos;s de-licious, it&apos;s de-lovely!'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-2001604408198770198</id><published>2010-05-25T15:13:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T15:35:47.208+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm going to live and live now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:x-large;"&gt;HELLO. I OFFICIALLY JUST FINISHED MY FIRST SEMESTER OF THE BIG MOUTHFUL CANADIAN INTERNATIONAL MATRICULATION PROGRAMME!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm so proud of me :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I've achieved so much this first semester if I do say so myself. I mean, compared to first five months of last year, I think, looking back, I was seriously doing nothing. Let's have a recap!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;January &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;- Got into 4U. Was happy at first, then regretted it. But now I'm glad I was in 4U. Probably the subject that developed me as a person the most.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;- Won Bowling Night! With a terrible, terrible, absofugginglutely terrible average. MIRACLE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;February&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;- Got 25/24 for my first Econ's assignment. If that's not an achievement I don't know what is. YES MAN, 25/24. NO KIDDING.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;March&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;- Got 4A+'s, 2A-'s. 2B's and one teeny weeny whiny C+ (for Chemistry, WE ALL GUESSED SO!) for SPM. However, the A- for Bio is so awesome man. I SWEAR I WORKED MY BUTT OFF, with no tuition at that (eh Leanne? eh?)! So proud of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;- Exactly hours after SPM results, performed with baby uke for the very first time, with Hanisah and Mel as back up hula girls along with - Keith Robinson baby, Mr de Villiers, Mr Pelland and Mr Plouffe. YEAH MAN. Man lecturers in skirts and bra(s). No kidding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;- Hip hop danced in front of an auditorium full of people too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_t78HuctGI/AAAAAAAABSs/kR3nSLd2P90/s1600/DSC07314.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_t78HuctGI/AAAAAAAABSs/kR3nSLd2P90/s400/DSC07314.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475106044795204706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;April&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Got interim results back. Got 2 A's and 1 B, for ENG4U. Figures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Got midterm results back. 90% for both Econs and Maths, 72% for ENG4U. Figures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;May&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- completed first semesterrrrrrrrrrrrr!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so glad I didn't wait until July to start college. Because seriously, these past few months have been the greatest months I've had in my whole entire life. I'm going to miss my sweethearts like crazy. Mel's off to Libya and Keith's off to Jakarta and yeah. I love yous!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sick. Did I tell you? Terrible cold. I've been sneezing non-stop while typing out this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-2001604408198770198?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/2001604408198770198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=2001604408198770198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2001604408198770198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2001604408198770198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-going-to-live-and-live-now.html' title='I&apos;m going to live and live now'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_t78HuctGI/AAAAAAAABSs/kR3nSLd2P90/s72-c/DSC07314.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-3043403353380133324</id><published>2010-05-23T00:49:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T01:20:16.931+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You make me forget how to breathe</title><content type='html'>You know how sometimes you're in-denial because you don't want to admit something to be true, because if you admit it, you'd have to live with that confession, thus actually allowing yourself to let unwanted feelings grow... feelings that you know are bullshit because you know how typical the scenarios are going to work out to be and with that, risking everything because what you have now is unbelievably perfect -exactly what you want, attention but not commitment, but then again, you find yourself transforming into this big giant green monster of jealousy every time you stock his Facebook page... then you find yourself looking at his pictures and saying to yourself "This is the exact opposite of what I want my other half to look like", and thinking about how significant his looks are -because Hanisah had learnt in Families class that one tends to look for a significant other that looks kind of like one's self, and then you find yourself doubting your feelings, and figuring out that...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OH MY GOD, that whole paragraph of shit and I realize that it is just infatuation that I am talking about. PSHHT. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is why I love blogging. It makes me write things. Things I didn't even know I had in me. Things I finally conclude. Things that make me say to myself "YOU'RE GOOD, YOU'RE FINE! DON'T WORRY!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Studied from 10 30 - 4 00 at the discussion area at the library in college with Jin, Hanisah, Nadelyn, Bianca,, Di Jion, Clare, Andrew, Jeniffer, Stephanie, Zaim and, I think that's it? It was fun. Everyone was asking EVERYONE questions. The funny thing was that I could answer everyone else's questions BUT mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today's Sunday already. That means exam starts tomorrow. And I haven't started on my English. Because quite frankly, I don't know what to read up on on English. OH GODDDDDD. The good news was that my English percentage went up for the second half of the semester. But I have a feeling that it'll plunge down again after the exams. I've never hated English the way I hate it now. But it's the only subject I've learnt in college so far that allows me to apply everything I learnt, EVERYDAY. Seriously, ENG4U has changed me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So OVER THE TOP.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I loved today : )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-3043403353380133324?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/3043403353380133324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=3043403353380133324' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3043403353380133324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3043403353380133324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/05/you-make-me-forget-how-to-breathe.html' title='You make me forget how to breathe'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-7598024018112433778</id><published>2010-05-21T00:34:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T01:37:05.984+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It hurts me more than it makes me angry.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_VlmmV8y-I/AAAAAAAABSU/0intUh1P1wc/s1600/30747_399906797660_555072660_3980372_437472_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_VlmmV8y-I/AAAAAAAABSU/0intUh1P1wc/s400/30747_399906797660_555072660_3980372_437472_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473392635940752354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I'm going to miss Lii Sing A LOTTA! And Mr Jean. AND BERG OH MY GOD BERG! Have his picture in my phone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_VlmmV8y-I/AAAAAAAABSU/0intUh1P1wc/s1600/30747_399906797660_555072660_3980372_437472_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_VmJKNmxOI/AAAAAAAABSc/q0NyBkDI8ww/s1600/28116_391172162879_700957879_4114527_6388597_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 215px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_VmJKNmxOI/AAAAAAAABSc/q0NyBkDI8ww/s400/28116_391172162879_700957879_4114527_6388597_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473393229684983010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;No more MDM classes with these too. But I'll still be seeing a lot of my Habibti and my Baby in IDC and IB!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_VlbGEFwaI/AAAAAAAABSE/MFT_lvqFXl4/s1600/28688_10150195021525302_576305301_12523513_6149856_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_VlbGEFwaI/AAAAAAAABSE/MFT_lvqFXl4/s400/28688_10150195021525302_576305301_12523513_6149856_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473392438297346466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Baby is torturous much!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_Vlbsi_7XI/AAAAAAAABSM/-r9UgRm80kw/s1600/28688_10150195023910302_576305301_12523558_3708684_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_Vlbsi_7XI/AAAAAAAABSM/-r9UgRm80kw/s400/28688_10150195023910302_576305301_12523558_3708684_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473392448627535218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;This's my boss telling his secretary that I won't be getting a raise, PFFT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Hi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It kind've breaks my heart to know that this semester has ended. Shit dude, where did the first half of the year go to? I have no idea, and I intend to find out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;From ever since I could remember, I've never been able to seize any moments and truly live it. I end up regretting not appreciating the small things that happen everyday, like having kinky talks in the morning with Steph and getting tortured by Keith, A&amp;amp;W's with Mel, dance classes with Hanisah, gossips with Aruna, having the privilege of listening and staring at a lecturer with blue eyes for one hour and a quarter each day, and being criticized in English class for having so-called grammar mistakes that were actually TYPO(s). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;And the breaks in between?!?! Priceless. I know I'm being all melodramatic because I'll still be seeing most if not every single one of my friends next semester, but somehow I feel as if it won't be the same. But who knows, maybe that's a good thing. Still, I wish our routines would never have to be changed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I've accomplished one thing I thought I could've never ever done in my wildest dreams. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;100% ATTENDANCE FOR THE WHOLE OF THE FIRST SEMESTER MAN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(Because you know, I practically never ever went to school during high school, especially form four and form five)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;SO! My marks have been declining since the midterm, with the exception of English because it surprisingly went up(?) -of which I'm proud of. My maths declined 5 marks, while Econs declined 0.6 marks. PFFT! But you know, it's okay, as long as they're both still in the A range, because English is a confirmed B. If I manage to get an A, it would be an absolute miracle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Anyways, I have this huge pet peeve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It doesn't make me angry as much as it hurts me when people conclude that the marks I get are the way they are because of biasness of the lecturers, because I'm a so-called teacher's pet, because I'm a so-called ass kisser, because I'm a girl. If only you knew the extra miles I took just to hand in a decent assignment because I've no background in a particular subject what so ever, you would have THOUGHT HARD before you made any judgments. Sometimes I would sit and do my work for HOURS on end just to type a page. I bloody work for my marks, and if you ask me I bloody deserve them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;*Plus I remember, during the week of SPM results and Talent Night, I didn't study for this chapter test, and my results came out real bad, so what does that tell you? Is my lecturer's still biased now?*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I still don't get how most people think I work at bare minimal but still manage maximum marks. I DO NOT work at the bare minimum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-7598024018112433778?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/7598024018112433778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=7598024018112433778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7598024018112433778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7598024018112433778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/05/it-hurts-me-more-than-it-makes-me-angry.html' title='It hurts me more than it makes me angry.'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S_VlmmV8y-I/AAAAAAAABSU/0intUh1P1wc/s72-c/30747_399906797660_555072660_3980372_437472_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6171765397790897654</id><published>2010-05-17T22:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T00:31:33.592+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hey Tom, if you like her you like her, if you don't like her you don't like her. Same for you Daisy, if you freaking like the feller, just be honest about it and stop pretending like you don't because of some non-existent stupid reason I don't bloody know of. But can you guys please just shut up for one second, and not talk about how great you guys are, and how much you guys think you're so much better than other people?! Can you guys please just, for one second, for God's sake, layan your honest to God, God damned feelings, and be done with it? Pretending ain't going to get you anywhere, I swear.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SICK people man. Make up your minds, man. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And dude, once you've talked shit about MY friend, of whom, I LOVE, of who is &lt;i&gt;fucking &lt;/i&gt;better than you, because I don't recall him ever making me feel bad, or sad, or annoyed for the past very little times we've spent together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry, Steph's gotten me swearing. PFFT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was okay. Finally figured out how to get the Coefficient Correlation and the Correlation of Determination, and all these things that make me sound 10 times smarter than I actually am, on the huge ass very out of my league scientific calculator. 'Studied' for awhile at the library. Well I accomplished the calculator part, which was my biggest fear, but now I'm for shiz, okay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I had to meet Mr Roslee again because the first day of Second Semester, I will be spending at the bowling alley, playing MAPCU. I hope I won't be blocked from my classes HEH. And I don't want to be marked absent either! I have a 100% attendance this First Sem man, does that make me sound like an idiot or what? More of a geek actually. But no matter how much I loathe going to classes, I'd prefer it to sleeping at home. Like today, in Econs class, we were watching Wallstreet. First few seconds, a naked lady walks swiftly in front of the camera,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"This is an awesome movie!", said Lucky in his Indonesian accent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"That bit is just for you, Lucky!", replied Mr D.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then, the part where Michael Douglas and a horrible looking woman with HORRIBLE hairstyle, were in a limo. Suddenly the movie is being forwarded by Mr I-have-a-Canadian-flag-as-a-tattoo-on-my-back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Okay and that was the part where they did fun things! You can YouTube this limo scene AT HOME!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to miss Econs class so much. I've a feeling that Second Sem is going to be a huge bust.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6171765397790897654?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6171765397790897654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6171765397790897654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6171765397790897654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6171765397790897654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/05/hey-tom-if-you-like-her-you-like-her-if.html' title=''/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-7647300550121311430</id><published>2010-05-16T16:33:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T17:06:28.541+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mengo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S--1cuD_zBI/AAAAAAAABR0/dRDX8PYU-8k/s1600/tumblr_l0qwifSb8c1qzz3tno1_400.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S--1cuD_zBI/AAAAAAAABR0/dRDX8PYU-8k/s320/tumblr_l0qwifSb8c1qzz3tno1_400.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471791577284201490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I can't wait to move&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I love Mengo Juice.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, tomorrow's going to be the start of one hectic week. I haven't started studying ANYTHING and quite frankly, I don't know how I'm going to manage, but somehow I always do. Oh my God, my vision just blurred out on me, I think I'll have to revert back to wearing my glasses 24/7. I think my eyes are getting worse and worse by the moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OH OH I've been sleeping for eight hours straight! It has been two nights now. I'm so happy. I've been sleeping relatively early too. Latest by 1 am. Yes I know that's not exactly early, but once June comes, 12 hours, here I come, man. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday's plan of studying Maths went out the window since I spent the night talking to the best person in the whole wide world of whom I haven't talked to in about a week and a half - two weeks. That was a &lt;i&gt;long &lt;/i&gt;time, and I would have to say that it is a record. Yes, exams are in exactly 7 days. I'm a little worried. Scratch that, man. I'm a lot worried. Maths is study-able, Econs is study-able (but it's a little much!) and English, shit man, I don't know what to study for English. I guess I'll find out next week during the review.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm making an effort to stay in school until 5 pm everyday or, if I'm lucky, 5 30, to study in the cool cool air-conditioned library. If I go home, it'd be unbelievably hot that I'd just lose all moods to study and just sleep. Like I'm feeling right now. Eegh, I should really really start studying my Maths.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've a new goal to achieve next semester. I want to be valedictorian like Kai Qi (the valedictorian for CIMP this year). I love Kai Qi, she's so nice. I don't know the steps I need to take to become one, but I know it's going to be tough. I'm also thinking of joining student council. I don't know yet, but I figured, I'm not going to miss out on opportunities just because I'm convinced, or other people are convincing me that I won't have a lot of time. Well, man, I don't have a lot of time these days as it is. I'd rather do okay for my studies, and become an all rounder in the co-curricular activities than do exceptionally well for my studies, and not do anything much inco-curricular things. Doing exceptionally well must be saved for University studies. I'm in pre-U, might as well enjoy it while I still can. But then again, I'm kind've kiasu with my grades too! Sometimes, being kiasu is a good things you know. That's how people make it to the top! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Besides, I'm planning to let loose in June. Actually that won't really be possible, I'd have training twice a week then, and I'd have to get my license as well (yes -finally). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yes. Everyone doesn't have time. We MAKE time. That way we know what to make time for and what not to make time for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-7647300550121311430?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/7647300550121311430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=7647300550121311430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7647300550121311430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7647300550121311430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/05/mengo.html' title='Mengo.'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S--1cuD_zBI/AAAAAAAABR0/dRDX8PYU-8k/s72-c/tumblr_l0qwifSb8c1qzz3tno1_400.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-3411409824529186872</id><published>2010-05-15T22:31:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T23:17:16.101+08:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S-65wB3T_eI/AAAAAAAABRs/s9_KBGFhjJ0/s1600/27836_385022852879_700957879_3979332_2604895_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 186px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S-65wB3T_eI/AAAAAAAABRs/s9_KBGFhjJ0/s320/27836_385022852879_700957879_3979332_2604895_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471514832087023074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;I understand that this picture is risque! First one ever, man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Hello! I'm back at Blogger! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah I'm a college girl now. And yeah, my hair has absolutely gotten longer. And yes, I've a lot of friends now, unlike then, the only one I had was Emy (over exaggerating). I've been away on Tumblr, but it's so impersonal since all I ever do is reblog, and when I reblog things, it isn't originally mine to begin with, so here I am. Back at where I was from. With lost followers, readers and all. But, NO MATTER. Plus, this blog has been with me through only God knows what. It'd be nice to open it up one day when I'm 97 years old, and still read through the years. Hell, it's only been two years and since I was on Tumblr, when I remember my blogspot, reading through it is epic! Strange how I remember every event that led to every post!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So today, I just finish packing up my whole room. The only thing left is the unboxable items such as my guitar(s) and keyboard and the big suitcase and two mini ones left unpacked to put my clothes in. Sorting clothes would take at least a year seeing as the condition of my cupboard is fatal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yes, we're moving! We're moving to Ara Damansara, which some people consider as quite a far move, but in actual fact, it's only 10 minutes away from Subang, so takda lah jauh sangat. It's okay. I'm quite excited to move because I hate the baby next door, she screams like a banshee. Every. Single. Day. I get so agitated that I sometimes get so stressed. Especially when I'm trying to finish English assignments which usually suck the life out of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of school, I'm so sad that I got only 50/65 for my Economics presentation. I don't know why I got 50/65, but perhaps it was because of the lack of semangat. See, I was suppose to present on Wednesday, but it got pushed to Friday.  I was so pumped on Wednesday, but we didn't have enough class time. I was so bummed, and come on, Friday is lepak day, no body does shit on Friday. I also stuck to the slide limit which was THREE. But some people did more than three slides and they got higher marks than me, so, no fair. I hope the essay was okay though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So drama's been following me everywhere and biting me in the ass as well. It's so annoying. I don't get why when I say "I like Tom", people would think that I'm head over heels in love with Tom, that even the slightest rejection would result into me committing suicide. Hell no. When I say I like Harry, I will like Harry only to the point where  I like him only when I see him. When he is infront of my eyes and touchable. Sure, I'd stalk Harry's Facebook page to see what he's been up to, but if he likes another girl, okay bye Harry. I can always find another Ronald. When I say I like Ronald, it's not that I want to be with Ronald. I just like Ronald. WHY CAN'T I JUST FREAKING LIKE RONALD AND BE DONE WITH IT? It's not like I want to marry him, I just want to like him. ISH!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do not not not not want to be in a relationship right now, because I know it's all bullshit because we're all still so immature, and it'll end up in the ditches right now. I'm old enough to understand that a guy flirting with me is just second nature and yes I know he flirts with other gazillions of them and I'm okay with that because Aruna says I'm a freaking flirt as well. Because it's fun, HE HE HE. I seriously love the idea of me liking a guy that won't treat me differently once he finds out because he knows my drill. Because hey, I only flirt with guys I know I ultimately won't want to be with any time soon because, yes, I don't want a relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only relationship I have right now is with Sunway University College. I swear my friends are so great, I love them so much it hurts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT A REVELATION.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-3411409824529186872?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/3411409824529186872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=3411409824529186872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3411409824529186872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3411409824529186872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2010/05/shes-back.html' title='She&apos;s Back!'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/S-65wB3T_eI/AAAAAAAABRs/s9_KBGFhjJ0/s72-c/27836_385022852879_700957879_3979332_2604895_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-4339812555925786440</id><published>2009-12-17T12:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T13:03:21.019+08:00</updated><title type='text'>too much</title><content type='html'>There are so many reasons why I should be pissed right now. When you're on the phone, when you're on the laptop, when you're texting someone, I should be atleast of 10 metre radius so I don't see what you're doing, hear what you're saying, or know anything. But when it's me that's on the phone, or on the laptop, or texting, it's okay for you, to listen to my conversations and expect me to stop talking to cater to your needs and your questions, stop using the laptop and throw a fit when I don't let you use it, because it is mine at the end of the day, or open my inbox without asking because you know I'm okay with it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're seriously pushing it, and id I complain about this to anyone else, it would not make sense because I'm the older one, I should be the one dealing with your crap because I should understand. I don't get it. Seriously. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It hurts everytime now, it's annoying and it's getting to me. I don't know why you're very rude to me. It doesn't matter that your boyfriend is 10 million kilometers away, you seriously do not have the right to be rude to me just because you're missing someone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know that I'm not rude to you before you're rude to me. I know that I get very rude sometimes, but with you, rudeness is like second nature nowadays especially to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This. Is. Too. Much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-4339812555925786440?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/4339812555925786440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=4339812555925786440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4339812555925786440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4339812555925786440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/12/too-much.html' title='too much'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6984930703232415459</id><published>2009-09-09T13:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T13:09:22.091+08:00</updated><title type='text'>how original</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;http://www.ainanordin.tumblr.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;how original, I know!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6984930703232415459?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6984930703232415459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6984930703232415459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6984930703232415459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6984930703232415459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/09/how-original.html' title='how original'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-296991642123648241</id><published>2009-09-04T00:02:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T00:29:20.321+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tumblring</title><content type='html'>Eee everyone is using Tumblr. And I got myself a tumblr a &lt;b&gt;long long long &lt;/b&gt;time ago, haha no la, about 3&lt;i&gt; months ago&lt;/i&gt;, but never used it, it was just there, because I thought it was cool. As in, the page and all those shiz and all and all and all la. That's the way the world works! Find new one, dump old one. Works among friends too! GASP! Anyhow, I am getting tired of my blogspot. I need new things. Since everything and anything tend to get really really old twice the speed these days. Sigh.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the way this is my 491st post. BANYAK NYEAAAA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-296991642123648241?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/296991642123648241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=296991642123648241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/296991642123648241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/296991642123648241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/09/tumblring.html' title='Tumblring'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6694641111956397703</id><published>2009-09-03T00:30:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T00:45:32.218+08:00</updated><title type='text'>you prolly know what I'm talking bout</title><content type='html'>Hello dear people. Yes, indeed, I've definitely lost my interest for blogging, but as soon as I hit the books, I'd be thinking about seribu satu things to blog about. Well, I must get it out of my system so I won't think of it - yet again.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At first when I heard the story about the slaughtered cow's head I'm like, what the hell man? You're dripping blood all over the place. And I didn't think much of it. Then I finally used my brain. Excuse my french but they really are a bunch of &lt;i&gt;fucktards. &lt;/i&gt;How would you like it if the Hindu's started burning or ripping the Quran apart, or step on writings of Allah's name, or started to spray paint mosques and such? I bet you wouldn't like it THAT MUCH right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And in conjunction with studying Agama for tomorrow's test of which I am so not ready for, they teach us how we should respect another religion, and make peace with their believers and preachers.  After all, that is what the word Islam means, peace. By doing what you are doing, literally stepping on and spitting on another religion's sacred belief, is just, excuse my french, &lt;i&gt;fucking retarded&lt;/i&gt;. You don't do that!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you are the holy muslim you say you are, you'd probably know that they actually allowed churches to be built in muslim areas waaaaaaaaaay back then. They allowed it, and it was actually their area, where the non-muslims agreed to live under their ruling. And the permission was given out by the leader of that time. Who are YOU to say that it is YOUR area when you are not merely SOMEONE important or significant. Then again, who would want to look up to a bunch of idiots?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to go for tuition classes at SS15 near the mosque, it was Calson's home. And when the &lt;i&gt;Azan &lt;/i&gt;is heard, we literally had to stop the class due to the loudness of the &lt;i&gt;Azan&lt;/i&gt;. Being a muslim,  I don't mind, but if I wasn't a muslim, I would definitely mind. But you don't see them cutting pages of the Quran and flowering them on to the road do you? And what the hell, Subang Jaya's residents are almost half if not majority, Chinese! They don't claim that Subang is THEIR area kan? It is really really embarassing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do not preach what you do not practice. This is really dissapointing. What is the world turning in to?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a lighter note, HOMAIGAD I AM SO HAPPY. Yes despite the angry entry above but, I'M SO HAPPY. Sigh, even if your moodswings are beyond me, talking to you is like like, shoot ah I know it's all infatuation and stuff and it'll probably die down but I should seriously take it all in and live this moment. I am definitely &lt;b&gt;NOT &lt;/b&gt;ready to leave school. I don't want to leave youuuuuuuuu!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6694641111956397703?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6694641111956397703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6694641111956397703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6694641111956397703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6694641111956397703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-prolly-know-what-im-talking-bout.html' title='you prolly know what I&apos;m talking bout'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-7493870536164431718</id><published>2009-08-30T02:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T15:07:30.649+08:00</updated><title type='text'>im sad</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Spl4sUfpCLI/AAAAAAAABQs/llWFNOqJ5to/s1600-h/5648_120017144335_565734335_2206304_7633750_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Spl4sUfpCLI/AAAAAAAABQs/llWFNOqJ5to/s320/5648_120017144335_565734335_2206304_7633750_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375460333054396594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I look so 'nice' in this picture, it's not even a good thing anymore. So not how I am! Went for buka puasa at Aunty Yan's house. It cannot get any better than our family gatherings. We find the most unorthodox things to talk about. And the food? I swear I've never eaten so much tempoyak in my life. It's so damn sedap. I finally get to puasa again tomorrow. Sigh! So much for the 2kgs I lost before I got that visit from &lt;b&gt;that &lt;/b&gt;friend. Now I have to start losing them again. But no problemo?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;School's starting. EXCITEDNYA! I can't wait to get my trials over and done with! I only have to go to school for three days next week and for another two the following week. After that, I'll have to attend full on 5 days of school on week three. Back to back trials are the shiz yo. I expect I'd know everything by then. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My problem is that, I expect too much of myself. When I expect to much of myself, I put a horse-load of pressure on my shoulders and get really really nervous. Ironically, Shan Chen tagged me as 'The Nervous One' on Facebook. I didn't know he knew me that well! So anyways, back to my grandmother story.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've got to learn to chill. When I chill, I do better. And that's been proven. I think I was really chilled during PMR. Atleast not before PMR, just during. I keep telling myself that I still have time. And I still do. I pretty much believe so? It would be pretty horrible if I just gave up all hope and say I don't have time anymore!! So aslong as the clocks are still ticking, and SPM is not here yet, I still have time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And um, due to current events (heh) I'm not ready to leave school yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyone says it doesn't make much difference once you leave school as you still see your friends, but no one really talks about how sad it actually is to not put on your school uniform or argue with your teachers, or race down the stairs for rehat (and get excited over waffles), or &lt;i&gt;arrive in school seeing the one you have a crush on.&lt;/i&gt; OHHH so this is what it really is all about isn't it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, it really isn't. I hate going to school, I really do! But somedays, I'd just want nothing but to have a typical day at school, once again. Because I realize that, I'll never have that anymore. Even now. No one goes to school anymore. If we do, it'll only be 20 people in the class. Quiet, sad and, really really boring.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's face it, there won't be any boys throwing paper planes around in class when it comes to college!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-7493870536164431718?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/7493870536164431718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=7493870536164431718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7493870536164431718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7493870536164431718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-sad.html' title='im sad'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Spl4sUfpCLI/AAAAAAAABQs/llWFNOqJ5to/s72-c/5648_120017144335_565734335_2206304_7633750_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-665344977852691259</id><published>2009-08-29T02:41:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T10:15:24.167+08:00</updated><title type='text'>feels like bedtime</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiNK0y671I/AAAAAAAABQc/kkh3UD9jHLw/s1600-h/DSC04377.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiNK0y671I/AAAAAAAABQc/kkh3UD9jHLw/s320/DSC04377.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375201372377116498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Form One&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiMY4LHYlI/AAAAAAAABQE/aJXjNykLXt8/s1600-h/DSC05652.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiMY4LHYlI/AAAAAAAABQE/aJXjNykLXt8/s320/DSC05652.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375200514290442834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Form Two&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiMZ5KljFI/AAAAAAAABQU/X-rfooA4LmY/s1600-h/Image004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiMZ5KljFI/AAAAAAAABQU/X-rfooA4LmY/s320/Image004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375200531736530002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Lets pretend this is Form Three&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiMYvfrvvI/AAAAAAAABP8/AEOH_S4E3DA/s1600-h/Image320.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiMYvfrvvI/AAAAAAAABP8/AEOH_S4E3DA/s320/Image320.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375200511960792818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Form Four&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiMZZdLJrI/AAAAAAAABQM/4rjQSU4ft5c/s1600-h/l_969ae4e42ae4c0d281db02aae6408285.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiMZZdLJrI/AAAAAAAABQM/4rjQSU4ft5c/s320/l_969ae4e42ae4c0d281db02aae6408285.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375200523224557234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Form Four&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiNdiE8orI/AAAAAAAABQk/rS_y3X2BmIc/s1600-h/090131_163521.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiNdiE8orI/AAAAAAAABQk/rS_y3X2BmIc/s1600-h/090131_163521.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiNdiE8orI/AAAAAAAABQk/rS_y3X2BmIc/s320/090131_163521.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375201693769966258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Form Five&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiMYORRKLI/AAAAAAAABP0/7HYP7HV7yLM/s320/P7040151.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375200503041960114" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Einul (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAWAN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I can't rememeber how many birthdays we've gone through, yeahp, we're getting so old. I can't even believe how long we've known each other, and hell yeah, through all the hair cuts man. Have a good one, and here's hoping to you checking your front gate. Check it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-665344977852691259?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/665344977852691259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=665344977852691259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/665344977852691259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/665344977852691259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/safe-trip-you-little-meanie-of-mine.html' title='feels like bedtime'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpiNK0y671I/AAAAAAAABQc/kkh3UD9jHLw/s72-c/DSC04377.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1254778198939261940</id><published>2009-08-26T01:18:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T00:30:17.667+08:00</updated><title type='text'>shoes and shops</title><content type='html'>It's going to be a day packed with back to back activities. Tuition in the morning, followed by baju raya (of which I've reserved HEH) shopping with Leanne. I bought shoes before buying the baju. I hope they match, lagi lagi the shoes aren't black or white or gold or silver, yknow, a colour that can match to any other colour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YEAH I BOUGHT MY SHOES. I was at Pyramid to buy some birthday presents (yeah man some as in more than one) for &lt;b&gt;one &lt;/b&gt;person. If I like you, I'll buy you a present with alot of presents inside of it or buy you things for no reason whatsoever. If I don't like you,  I don't waste my time and buy you, &lt;b&gt;one &lt;/b&gt;present. Or I don't like you yet? ANYHOW, I like my shoes. Wee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And and and it sucks how helium balloons aren't available anywhere near my house. I'm not going to freaking Ikano Power Center to geddit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss someone. And I know who it is. It's the dude with the camera all the time. The dude Kak Lina makes fun of. The dude who texts me at 5 am in the morning untill it was time for me to go to school. The dude who I want to see in Aina-land tonight HAHAHA oh my god I swear I'm so lame, k bye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P/S: I need a life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1254778198939261940?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1254778198939261940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1254778198939261940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1254778198939261940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1254778198939261940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/shoes-and-shops.html' title='shoes and shops'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-3947125082336148545</id><published>2009-08-24T01:03:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T15:25:31.023+08:00</updated><title type='text'>double post</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the double post, but I just thought of something.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lately, I've been making up alibis and excuses for one person, let's call this person Bobby, blaming every each of Bobby's actions on what I think is going on in Bobby's life and how it's affecting how I get treated by Bobby. There was a phase where I got worked up over everything that Bobby did to upset me, and sometimes, I feel guilty. For feeling angry. Then when I don't do something that I was supposed to do for Bobby, I feel even more guilty. For putting my feelings ahead of Bobby's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, I stopped venting, and just got used to whatever Bobby does to me. When my cousin asks me about Bobby, and when I tell her everything about Bobby, she has this shock mode on. Like she cannot believe that Bobby does those things. Different people, different point of views. Few of my friends who listens to me about Bobby don't say much anymore, because it's the same story over and over again. But they always have a shoulder for me when I need to cry. And believe me, I am actually really sad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've did everything on my part. Things got better, then things just, ended up being the same again. I've never expressed how truly sad I am. But maybe Bobby is sadder because of my selfish-self. Whenever I am not selfish, I end up getting hurt and my past flashes by infront of me. I still feel guilty being selfish. I don't know what to do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess now things have shifted from one drama to another. Thankfully, the previous drama does not bother me anymore. Thank god for that. And thank god for my wonderful distraction. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;simple smiles from you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;puts the joy in me too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;always smoke as we joke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;of everyday's news&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;don't be sad should feel glad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;that i'm making my dreams come true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;don't you worry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;there will be someone new&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;i am glad that it's you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;i fell into&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;now stand next to me as i cry for help&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;sing next to me as i beg for a solitude&lt;br /&gt;breathe next to me as i gasp for air&lt;br /&gt;the love that brought me together&lt;br /&gt;has let me down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 20px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS';font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;once again&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One thing I've learnt is that, and with that I &lt;b&gt;promise &lt;/b&gt;myself not to get involve with tainted love(s) of a person I adore very much. It could make that person, not angry, not hurt, not annoyed, but simply sad without even he/she realizing it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-3947125082336148545?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/3947125082336148545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=3947125082336148545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3947125082336148545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3947125082336148545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/double-post.html' title='double post'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-821174247324054765</id><published>2009-08-24T00:21:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T00:48:42.321+08:00</updated><title type='text'>stand next to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It has been a good three days. I haven't studied apart from my sessions with Mr Add Maths and Mr Physics. Yes I know, tuitions on weekends. How lovely. Anyhow, yes I've been resting this brain of mine. And what do you know, nice timing. My antibodies decided to rest too, so apart from having mindless to and fro texts with my little boi, I've been sneezing my head off and getting (what it feels like) whiplash(s). However, my non-holiday starts tomorrow, so I've got to start on Sejarah and Agama tomorrow as well.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;YOU GUYS, TOMORROW (well today) ADA MISS UNIVERSE ON STAR WORLD! Watch it at night, which is the repeat, as waking up early to watch it, macam tak de feel, because you have to eat and bitch while watching it. So yes, can't do it when it's puasa month can you? Heh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/S5JX7ue0mMM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/S5JX7ue0mMM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Bo Amir Iqram - Once Again&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Bedroom Sanctuary, Attic Bangsar, Kuala Lumpur&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm listening to Bo's EP, Gemini, it's so calming. I admit that most of the time I don't know what he's singing, because I guess his diction isn't that good &lt;b&gt;yet &lt;/b&gt;but the music is really times a gajillion good. I love it. Abang Jaa dropped it off, well, I'd like to think because I'm not feeling well, but I'm certain it was because he wanted to show me a picture of a particular someone. Hmm, whichever one it is I still got my Bo cd. Happy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The light bulb in my head just lighted up, how clever of me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took a pill today. And I swallowed it after the first gulp. I amaze myself. Man, now that I can take pills, I feel like swallowing every pill there is to prevent my nose from falling off. Dangerous much? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel like going to Pyramid tomorrow, as in today, since it's already 12 34 am, and since I still have money to get someone's present :O Of which I am cracking my skull of what to buy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HOWEVA, I'VE FOUND MY BAJU RAYA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the way, nice going Aina. You had to screw that up by running out of credit right? But it was kind of funny. I did give out a clear warning though. I'm so cool ..not!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-821174247324054765?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/821174247324054765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=821174247324054765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/821174247324054765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/821174247324054765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/stand-next-to-me.html' title='stand next to me'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1371411593006786665</id><published>2009-08-22T22:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T22:48:42.492+08:00</updated><title type='text'>all my loving</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpAE7pzsz5I/AAAAAAAABPs/gmfctRNhh8I/s1600-h/image_3875531.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 310px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpAE7pzsz5I/AAAAAAAABPs/gmfctRNhh8I/s400/image_3875531.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372799778334494610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;They are, cool. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Na na na naaaa, na na na naaaaa na na na na naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1371411593006786665?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1371411593006786665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1371411593006786665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1371411593006786665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1371411593006786665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/all-my-loving.html' title='all my loving'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SpAE7pzsz5I/AAAAAAAABPs/gmfctRNhh8I/s72-c/image_3875531.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-3097470786822145433</id><published>2009-08-22T01:13:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T01:53:24.847+08:00</updated><title type='text'>would you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/So7YCKJZhTI/AAAAAAAABO0/W7BEgdhAFgc/s1600-h/Picture0471.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/So7YCKJZhTI/AAAAAAAABO0/W7BEgdhAFgc/s320/Picture0471.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372468937094694194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Since I'm lonely and doomed to spinsterhood (so not happening) as my dad will only allow me to date at sixty (uhuh). And since I am currently emotionally, wait no, very emotional but emotionally unavailable, pick-me-ups are ESSENTIAL. And I got one yesterday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Can't believe what happened today. Sigh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ohmylord, I'm coming down with something. Flu! I hope it's not the UHUK flu, If I have it then it sucks because I'll be having my teras subjects next next week! The papers I can actually do, Damn it damn it damn it. But I doubt it's UHUK flu, Because I'm just starting to feel under the weather after the assembly at school today. Then in that case I should do anything BUT doubt it's UHUK flu right? SCARY MARY.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And my phone isn't lonely tonight HIHIHI.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-3097470786822145433?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/3097470786822145433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=3097470786822145433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3097470786822145433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3097470786822145433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/would-you.html' title='would you'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/So7YCKJZhTI/AAAAAAAABO0/W7BEgdhAFgc/s72-c/Picture0471.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-2910051133820361146</id><published>2009-08-19T15:04:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T15:37:00.490+08:00</updated><title type='text'>i don't have a title</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SourQvXgO3I/AAAAAAAABOs/fJBxsV1RfpM/s1600-h/P1050292.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SourQvXgO3I/AAAAAAAABOs/fJBxsV1RfpM/s320/P1050292.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371575284650752882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SATURDAY'S PUASA !! Love love love love love. Since I've been sitting on my butt studying all the time, I feel my butt getting a little bit too cushion-y for me. The scale says otherwise, but whatever la kan, puasa is, I don't know I just love puasa. But yknow, the semester break coincides exactly to the first day of puasa. Greaaaaat. Was just thinking about going for lunch with every Tom, Dick and Harry I know. Speaking of which, the abang has gone MIA and AWOL again. Tak ingat the last time I saw him. Sik pa! I haven't been communicating with the normal world as it is too depressing of how free they are. And, in the normal world, August semester break will be filled with nothing but bumming around. BUT, &lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt; have to study Agama and Sejarah. How lovely is my life? This better be worth it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm done with the science subject's paper threes and twos. Tinggal both paper one of Bio and Chem tomorrow. BIO AND CHEM SUCKED. Well, I must say that I am not surprised? Atleast the worst is over. The end of the beginning of the end is over. However, the best is yet to come, or should I say worse? They keep telling me "Don't worry, it's not as hard as they make it seem", pfft. If there's one thing I've learnt from exams is not to take anything for granted. Especially papers like English.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know, I've been thinking, if the grade you score for SPM depends on the average mark for everyone, as they determine the A1, A2, B3, B4 etc marks after grading the papers (according to average), why in God's name do we have to score 75% and above to get an A1 during school exams?  What's the use, you can still get an A by getting 30% in SPM anyways right? So when they ask for trials result or mid-year results for college or anything like that, it isn't DOWN to the standards of SPM right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If that is the case, why doesn't the school mark everyone's paper and see the average for an A mark and give it to students that pass that specific mark?? Just like SPM you know? And if everyone's all kind've below par untill they have to really lower the A mark, why don't they simplify the SPM paper?? That way, an A is a fixed mark!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's also very stupid that the SPM grades are also determined by where you come from. I don't know if this is a rumour or not, but it seems if you're from the pedalaman area the A mark is much lower. Tak tau la kan. But they really hav e a sick and very VERY twisted ways of grading our papers, which ONLY determines our future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SIGH.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My hensem hensem boi is looking so very hensem hensem these days! So hensem! GAH! Doesn't help that my hensem hensem boi is nicer nice too! HAHA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-2910051133820361146?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/2910051133820361146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=2910051133820361146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2910051133820361146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2910051133820361146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-dont-have-title.html' title='i don&apos;t have a title'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SourQvXgO3I/AAAAAAAABOs/fJBxsV1RfpM/s72-c/P1050292.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-2342472946580553202</id><published>2009-08-11T22:35:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T22:40:30.581+08:00</updated><title type='text'>and I quote</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(27, 112, 58);  font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Jehan! Leanne's friend that Leanne has mentioned in one (or two or three or four) conversations. I was in the mood of finding a good blog post. And so I did. And this was just what I needed. Kudos Jehan!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;http://www.jehanthekite.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(it's awesome)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;The post I read. That left me. Speechless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;1. Honesty is THE BEST policy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;FUCK insecurities, FUCK being scared, FUCK "taking care of other people's feelings", if you really want something that means a lot to you work out properly you should be HONEST. Like if you ambik batu and your own bloody girlfriend doesn't know about it, bitch you ain't fooling nobody but yourself because you KNOW you will never feel FULLY happy until you be HONEST. And if you feel sad or down or insecure YOU BE HONEST ABOUT IT because you HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE. The world works in miraculous ways you have better opportunities for you out there even if your honesty does not work. But if you don't be honest about things, SAMPAI MATI PUN KAU AKAN REGRET.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;2. Talking about things HELPS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Avoiding things is CRAP because believe it or not, you are going to lose out on the chances that you had to make things right. Like if you've never talked to your dad about your feelings and how you feel towards him and suddenly *touch wood* he DIES the next day WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT. HE WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU WANTED TO SAY. Or if you are avoiding your best friend for some bullshit reason IF HE OR SHE DIES THE NEXT DAY WILL YOU NOT REGRET IT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;3. Mengumpat orang is never going to get you ANYWHERE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;You want to bitch, bitch accordingly i.e. it has something to do with yourself. If you simply kutuk people that has no relations whatsover to yourself, how the hell would you feel if someone does that to you? Sakit hati kan. So learn how to SHUT IT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;4. Don't judge a person who drinks or smokes or take drugs or whatsoever in relations to religion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;By the end of the day, IF HE OR SHE IS GOING TO HEAVEN OR HELL IT IS NOT YOUR MOTHERFUCKING PROBLEM BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT GOD. Instead, concentrate on YOURSELF.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;5. Jealousy and intimidation is INEVITABLE but CAN be controlled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;If someone is prettier or cooler or richer or BETTER than you take my advice FUCK THAT PERSON and concentrate on making YOURSELF a better person. You dislike a guy because he likes to show off his g's? Don't size yourself up to him, utilize whatever assets you have to prove to YOURSELF that you aren't missing out on anything. Like, concentrate on getting good grades instead and TRUST ME you'll be like whatever bitch you got your dad's money if your dad dies tomorrow you ain't got shit but I got BRAINS. Or if you think someone is leading a better life than you are and you feel insecure CONCENTRATE ON MAKING YOUR LIFE BETTER AND DON'T MOTHERFUCKING SULK ABOUT IT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-2342472946580553202?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/2342472946580553202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=2342472946580553202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2342472946580553202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2342472946580553202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/1.html' title='and I quote'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-8307965527127176013</id><published>2009-08-10T20:15:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T20:49:27.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'>slippery road ahead</title><content type='html'>Mondays. No not Monday blues. But, weird-phone-calls day! This week, someone called me, and this time I was rajin enough to answer the unknown contact number! So I answered and the person was like "&lt;i&gt;HELLOH? JOWEN AHH?"&lt;/i&gt; Err, no? It was so pelik, I couldn't go back to my nap. But I did, untill 5 pm! And it was dark gloomy and raining. Such a perfect day! Went down with ultimate semangat to do Physics (which is suprisingly easy, revising everything that was taught by Mr Physics!).&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So nothing's been happenning to me. Except for the fact that, whenever Thursday comes I'll be ultiamtely lazy to study. But not this week. Friday's trials! Have been doing Add Maths with Leanne. Kind've give me the confidence for Add Maths. Well not really, yesterday we spent 320938240943 hours on 12 questions of Add Maths paper one! Haha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And and I've not been talking to Emy. But I am right now so I'm happy.  And what else, I'm just happy. But I'm kind've lazy to hear people talking to me. Weird kan? Mr Physics asked me hows life so I answerd 'Tah, I've been lazy, lazy for everything and lazy to layan people" How nice of me! Don't know how to explain it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And  I think the Baskin Robin's guy at parade is so &lt;b&gt;cute&lt;/b&gt;! Random. Facebook is boring. Blogs are boring. DVDs are NOT BORING AT ALL. Been watching tv loads over the weekends and going shopping like a mad &lt;s&gt;woman &lt;/s&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; "&gt; cow. So hmm, that's it! Yes I'm alive and kicking it! Not for long though. Not on Friday, hyperventilation &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;AHEAD&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SoAWPCDLkKI/AAAAAAAABOk/6rHo1NJoXsE/s1600-h/boat+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SoAWPCDLkKI/AAAAAAAABOk/6rHo1NJoXsE/s320/boat+033.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368315203329691810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SoAWO9QtHqI/AAAAAAAABOc/16sRvpaD3K8/s1600-h/boat+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SoAWO9QtHqI/AAAAAAAABOc/16sRvpaD3K8/s320/boat+003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368315202044239522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SoAWOQmvpmI/AAAAAAAABOU/_7_zI24Z3JA/s1600-h/boat+002.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SoAWOQmvpmI/AAAAAAAABOU/_7_zI24Z3JA/s320/boat+002.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368315190057084514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I miss my Malaysian residing in Indon with an Australian accent boy!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-8307965527127176013?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/8307965527127176013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=8307965527127176013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8307965527127176013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8307965527127176013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/slippery-road-ahead.html' title='slippery road ahead'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SoAWPCDLkKI/AAAAAAAABOk/6rHo1NJoXsE/s72-c/boat+033.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-988125176512500863</id><published>2009-08-05T23:48:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T19:11:57.027+08:00</updated><title type='text'>for me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;In cases like these you need to pick a side, and unfortunately my friend, you chose him, I can't do this anymore, I don't see myself clicking with you anymore,  I don't trust you anymore, and I only make you annoyed everyday so, goodbye? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;///&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;You don't call me anymore, you don't text me anymore, we don't talk anymore, we don't see each other anymore. It didn't really bug me untill I realized that I had to watch a stupid dumbass TV show just to catch a glimpse of you. All this while, I've been too lazy and too ignorant to layan my feelings about you. How I felt about everything that happened. I avoided it, because tah la, you seemed happy, I didn't want to burst your happy bubble. Plus I was happy being ignorant aswell! Ignorance is bliss. Untill &lt;i&gt;Hartamania&lt;/i&gt; came on TV.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know, you've fixed your relationship with her almost a gazillion times plus plus but with me? Let me see, once or twice? I don't know lah, I hate blogging about things like these. Makes me sound like a pathetic loner when I am certain that I am not like this beyond this post. You've always been there. Not in my face 'there' but always there when I needed you. I spent hours on the phone with you, talkking about things I don't like or don't like to hear. But hearing you happy, was just so, nice. Macam a breath of fresh air. Because everyone's like in a death hole of depression right now including me, so you were kind've like my escape. I did my part and you did yours. We were awesome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I don't know what changed. You fell in love (apparently) and I became insignificant. People say I was jealous and &lt;i&gt;everyone&lt;/i&gt; said I liked you, but do I look like I care about what people say?How small-minded of them to think that way. What I cared about was how I was losing yet another best friend. I remember that day. I was sitting at the dining table, with my cousins, my mum and my aunty for lunch, and I said "Ala, hilang one more best friend", and I was about to cry but I didn't want to infront of my hyperactive cousins. Nanti I hilang macho ar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since then I blocked everything that led to thinking of you, and all the tak masuk akal nonsensical conversations that seemed to carry on for hours. When you told me that your conversations with her are never-ending, I thought to myself, well we have (had) that. I even let it slid when you called me by her name. Orang in love kan, what to do?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I never let myself to trust you anymore. Because everytime I did, I'd get the same outcome. Sama je like the last time. When you say you won't do it ever again, you turn around and do it, FOUR TIMES &lt;i&gt;BETTER &lt;/i&gt;. So forgive me if I told you that I couldn't trust you anymore, forgive me if I told you that I don't believe you anymore. But the truth is I couldn't, I still can't and I don't. Losing a best friend isn't like breaking up. It's worse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heard that you're 'okay' with her again. I'm not against her or you. But I'm just sad that you 'd do anything to fix things up with her, again and again, but never with me. Shows how much I mean to you huh budak kecik? And hey I made an effort! I put my ego on the line by pulling you aside just to tell you that I miss you! Now all that's left is my tainted ego. Pfft! How nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For what it's worth, it was worth the while :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need a blue sky holiday. And I am so screwed for trials. Kill me please. FOR ONCE, I'd like to post an entry on how READY I am for an exam that everything is just waiting to burst out of me because I am so full of knowledge. And I am working towards that post. Just wait!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Snm0s9Hr3sI/AAAAAAAABOM/GeJad2QZQAQ/s1600-h/Samsung-Star-pink.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Snm0s9Hr3sI/AAAAAAAABOM/GeJad2QZQAQ/s320/Samsung-Star-pink.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366519115402698434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw this, and ... I WANT. I've never been happy with any other phone BUT Samsung. Except for my Nokia phone with lights on the side, sama macam Qistina and Hazim because we all bought it at the same time. Kinda cute of us, but anyhow. YES! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is the Samsung Star in dusty pink. I know kan, pink again, just like my other Samsung, but tengok, my love has NOT died for my small Mp3 pink Samsung phone. So the price of this one? Similar to my minute Samsung, RM1099. I shall save my Raya money for this (lets pray I don't spot a cute dress to buy). I like the idea of getting this expensive (yes it is, very) phone because atleast I'll always know how all my Raya money ended up to a total of ZERO. When I buy small small things, I tend to get frustrated because I wouldn't remember where all my money went to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish I had a filthy rich boyfriend. HAHA, so not me. But yes seriously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-988125176512500863?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/988125176512500863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=988125176512500863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/988125176512500863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/988125176512500863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/for-me.html' title='for me'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Snm0s9Hr3sI/AAAAAAAABOM/GeJad2QZQAQ/s72-c/Samsung-Star-pink.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-5142277195167886010</id><published>2009-08-05T02:19:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T02:33:52.037+08:00</updated><title type='text'>brace yourself</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Snh-ff2wIDI/AAAAAAAABOE/oy5Gc5BR2RA/s1600-h/n700957879_302478_9837.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Snh-ff2wIDI/AAAAAAAABOE/oy5Gc5BR2RA/s320/n700957879_302478_9837.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366178035604135986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Brace yourself&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;div&gt;this is going to take every part of you, this is going to make God believe in you, and you believe in Him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pace yourself&lt;/i&gt;,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; eternity is not a fairy tale. The in between can be your heaven or just another day in hell. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because the road we walk is straight and narrow, and times we have they're ours to borrow. So give a little understanding, this is life and it's hell if you only live for yourself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Calm yourself&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the fear that's in your heart must surely die. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You always say its hard and you don't know why. Well welcome to everybody's life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Lift yourself&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you're bigger when you're on your knees again. Just look above and look within, don't look around it's all just been.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-5142277195167886010?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/5142277195167886010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=5142277195167886010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5142277195167886010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5142277195167886010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/brace-yourself.html' title='brace yourself'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Snh-ff2wIDI/AAAAAAAABOE/oy5Gc5BR2RA/s72-c/n700957879_302478_9837.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-102414043850322199</id><published>2009-08-03T02:37:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T02:35:27.610+08:00</updated><title type='text'>scarce</title><content type='html'>I just woke up from an unpleasant sleep. Even while I was sleeping, 12810948 things were going through my head and I find myself conscious the whole time. My phone rang I looked at the unknown number, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Sigh, malas laa"&lt;/span&gt; then it called again,&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"EE BEGOK!"&lt;/span&gt; and left it again. &lt;div&gt;Then Jowen called, after 2319237 hellos, " Ainaaa are you free today, can you comeeeeee?" Me? Go? To? Bowling? Alley? NO THANK YOU :D Study study. And no way am I going there again. Ever and forever until when when. But he woke me up earlier than estimated time of waking up so I slept again, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;longer&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Sheesh&lt;/span&gt;. I'm so lagging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;///&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what sucks more than pre-exam anxiety? Actually nothing. Because, pre-exam anxiety does not have any effect on my what so ever. Untill night falls and it's time for me to go to sleep and dream of something good, supposedly leaving all worries behind me. WRONG. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shit la I cannot sleep at all. I'm so darn exhausted from today and I am still wide awake. Everytime I close my eyes I count the days I have left untill trials untill SPM and how stressed I'm going to be and shit like that. It's so frustrating. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's even more agitating than that is that I don't have credit and I can't be bothered to get some and this is the first time it actually went to RM 0.00 without exceeding the expiry date. Gosh this sucks. I want to call somebody so that I can talk about something besides SPM and just talk about, random stuff like, MTV Stage.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every damn status on Facebook is about how people are going or planning to go or have tickets for it. Ish! Not that I'm into the acts, but I just want a night out. And if I do have one, I swear I am going to feel as if  I were the most guilty person on earth. Apparently, guilty pleasures are not in the dictionary right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anxiety sucks. I wonder if this is the paranoia talking. I doubt it. I know I'm going to be okay. And in the previous previous previous post I said I was lying to myself. But seriously, I know I'm going to be okay. If I know myself, then I know I'm going to be fine. I underestimate myself. No, no I don't. I expect too much of myself that I put alot of pressure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to find other times to have anxieties because I need some sleep. I WANT TO SLEEP GOD DAMNIT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-102414043850322199?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/102414043850322199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=102414043850322199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/102414043850322199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/102414043850322199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/scarce.html' title='scarce'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-4608925798838490793</id><published>2009-08-02T02:02:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T02:44:25.681+08:00</updated><title type='text'>we just don't care</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SnSFZwN0XlI/AAAAAAAABNk/W0xR66rsggI/s1600-h/l_0db5f85a52fe4fe3a905982514f03041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 212px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SnSFZwN0XlI/AAAAAAAABNk/W0xR66rsggI/s400/l_0db5f85a52fe4fe3a905982514f03041.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365059733591187026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Teha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The thought of Teha bounced in my head when I saw tagged photos of Hakim in my seldomly logged in MySpace homepage down in the News Feed section (of which copied Facebook's). I miss Teha, I really do.  We used to go to each other's houses everyday. Like, wherever I was she was too! Sure we don't talk much nowadays, and don't meet up like we used to everyday, but when we finally do, it's like we never seperated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The last time I met her was in April. Begok! That was eons ago. We ate a lot, and I mean &lt;b&gt;a lot&lt;/b&gt; of sushi and pilgrimiged around Sunway Pyramid in our bowling shirts looking for unusual things to buy. Which isn't a surprise.  We always always did that. Dulu kan, we were sort of MPH freaks. We'd go there EVERYTIME we were at a mall that has an outlet and buy things like, coloured paper. Lots and lots of it.Then if we weren't there together, we'd sorta buy each other things too. That applied for the shop, yang Precious Thots tu. Used to be called Happy House eh?  Whatever la kan. ANYWAYS yes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We loved our mac and cheese dekat Kenny Rogers. And then we baked cakes and watched movies. And  I remember how we always had crushes on weird people. Very weird people. And had obsessions with overseas bowlers. REMEMBER THAT TEHA?! Then we had obsessions with bands too. We were, gila about Click Five. Flat out, gila! More gila after going for the Quiksilver thingy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;There isn't a friend who's seen my cry as much as Teha's seen me cry. Perhaps I was a crybaby before, no question about that. But she always had something uplifting to say. And when she cries, of course I've got nothing else to offer but my shoulder. Which seemed good enough!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;One good memory was when she visited me when I was sick. She bought me lots chocolates and this Emily the Strange pouch (back then I was crazy about Emily the Strange, kesian kan?) And i remember vividly of my visit to her place when she was sick. I bought a keychain. Wtf? So cute kan? And we liked to write each other letters. Aaa so cute. I miss being young!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Teha's strong, she doesn't cry much. She also has this innocence about her. Ask questions or make remarks yang unknowingly funny. It's funny because she doesn't know it's funny. I'm making a vow to kidnap her one day. I promise myself. Haha! I miss you Teha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-4608925798838490793?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/4608925798838490793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=4608925798838490793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4608925798838490793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4608925798838490793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/we-just-dont-care.html' title='we just don&apos;t care'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SnSFZwN0XlI/AAAAAAAABNk/W0xR66rsggI/s72-c/l_0db5f85a52fe4fe3a905982514f03041.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-7283658298807534807</id><published>2009-08-01T13:41:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T14:07:33.972+08:00</updated><title type='text'>begok</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SnPVyIk8ATI/AAAAAAAABNU/7-7EX28Q_4c/s1600-h/Picture0641.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SnPVyIk8ATI/AAAAAAAABNU/7-7EX28Q_4c/s400/Picture0641.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364866638400979250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;LOOK LOOK LOOK at how red my cheeks and my nose are.I pergi sungai, and yeah how in the world does someone get sunburnt from sungai kan, but yeah, sungai.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SnPXltIf3oI/AAAAAAAABNc/4equ8yC2PvA/s1600-h/6172_110648118275_563158275_2101895_2657096_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 303px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SnPXltIf3oI/AAAAAAAABNc/4equ8yC2PvA/s400/6172_110648118275_563158275_2101895_2657096_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364868623898762882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyhow, though these past few days have been fun, it's probably been too much fun than I should be having. Especially right now.  It's been two days since I've picked up a book, and actually extract facts from it. I've been doing NONE of that. So I literally have 14 days to absorb Add Maths, Physics, Bio and Chem. I am on a roll with Chemistry. But Biology? Don't even start with Add Maths. Mr Selvan forgot bout me today, therefore I had no Physics class today. Begok! I am dead.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lie to myself everyday saying it's going to be okay. And I tell myself that I am going to be okay. I even buy it sometimes. But I guess that's the whole point. And yeah, remember to breathe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-7283658298807534807?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/7283658298807534807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=7283658298807534807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7283658298807534807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7283658298807534807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/08/begok.html' title='begok'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SnPVyIk8ATI/AAAAAAAABNU/7-7EX28Q_4c/s72-c/Picture0641.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6863150167617664103</id><published>2009-07-30T01:19:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T23:00:12.142+08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's peaceful</title><content type='html'>I've always been curious of how the world works. As in, how, each and everyone of us are different if not in many ways, in atleast one way. No one is identically the same, and everyone has a purpose in life and how everyone plays a role, and has a part. How everyone completes a picture. I've never understood atheists. They have their reasons I'm sure, but I cannot imagine myself as one.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Before trees, before sand, before a single drop of water there must've been a higher force that created, well, everything. I find myself questioning why I have two eyes instead of three, and why I have two eyes but not two mouths. I don't know how He does it, but I don't believe that if I question Him, means that I'm doubting Him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The teachers at school teach us not to ponder upon things like these. So that we won't &lt;i&gt;terpesong akidah &lt;/i&gt;or &lt;i&gt;termurtad. &lt;/i&gt;God gave us minds to think. The brain is not there to just sit like sitting ducks. More often than not, a thought often leads to another thought and another and that is how the mind works. I don't think anyone if powerful enough to block their thoughts just because someone said it's wrong to do so, and you might be going to hell for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am a Muslim and I am proud to be one. God knows that I am not the perfect one of all, but I don't throw myself into the religion just because someone says I should wear the tudung, or how I don't pray enough, or read the Quran enough. I don't wear the tudung, I miss my prayers and I do not recite the Quran everyday. But when I decide to wear the tudung, it'll be upon my own will, not others. When I pray, I really pray, and not because I'm forced to. And when I recite the Quran, it brings me peace just to know that I want to read it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, I touch dogs, I play with them and I wear shorts. Though I don't drink, I don't condemn those who do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing about the society these days is that, just because they think that they are the perfect Muslim, they have the right to tell people who are not like them, who have not repent, off. Telling someone they are going to hell for not covering up is certainly not going to get you into heaven. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Muslims are a little tainted nowadays. Take the 9/11 disaster for example. We are very much tainted since then. But we do not have any chances of retaliation to prove them wrong. It's because, some people would give up their right arm to show the world one person's imperfection. The website that displays every picture deemed 'sexy' or 'obscene' of every Muslim that goes out clubbing, the newspaper that wrote about how a legendary film maker was allegedly once a man instead of how truly great she was, the comments I get on my blog for not wearing the tudung, are run, are published and are commented by Muslims. Saying how wrong it is, or how big of a sin I am going to get. Kononnya amar makruf nahi munkar. Kiss my ass. That is NOT how you do it. And sometimes, it is just, NONE of your business.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again, by condemning someone to hell, does that make you a resident of heaven? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;NO.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We even see these things at school, the latest one being a religious teacher, accusing a muslim student of bringing beer to school just because he is not the boy who reads the prayer every Monday morning, you know? Just because he converses much in English and he just looks like that type? It's really stupid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reality check. People like us, who aren't 'holy' looking are the ones who don't go behind our parents' backs in doing whatever we do. Where we go, who we're with and what we are doing, are known by our parents. However, not all, but some of the students, who perceive themselves to be very pious. Smoke and make out behind the surau, skip school without parents' consents and sneak out at night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You tell me who's the bigger sinner. A person who wears the tudung and bersandiwara with her boyfriend in public playgrounds, or a person who does not wear the tudung but very discreet with her boyfriend? A person who tells every Tom, Dick and Harry that he prays everyday or a person who prays once in awhile and sincere in doing it? A person who has his nose up a notch everytime he talks about how he knows so much about Islam and makes out in the cinema and on the escalator, or a person who knows little about Islam but does not do things like those, atleast in public.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Islam is a beautiful and peaceful religion. How people nowadays perceive Islam, is just not right. You can't do this, you can't do that, you can't eat this, you can't touch this, you can't read this. That is not Islam.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the end of the day no matter what religion we are of, we're still living as one. And we pretty much cannot escape from one another. When we're together, we forget what religions and races we're of, and just treat each other, equally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The world would be such a better place if people stop jaga tepi kain orang lain, and just shut up if they don't have anything nice to say, and if people knew that there's a time for everything, if people understood the word RESPECT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's honestly what the world's lacking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6863150167617664103?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6863150167617664103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6863150167617664103' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6863150167617664103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6863150167617664103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/its-peaceful.html' title='it&apos;s peaceful'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6441898409665484047</id><published>2009-07-29T02:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T02:21:25.810+08:00</updated><title type='text'>im going dotty</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sm9BEDkVNHI/AAAAAAAABMs/_ToMRdzrzFQ/s1600-h/6172_108748228275_563158275_2080550_5466718_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sm9BEDkVNHI/AAAAAAAABMs/_ToMRdzrzFQ/s400/6172_108748228275_563158275_2080550_5466718_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363577219154523250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;Every mile will be worth my while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It does not take a genius to calculate what little time I have untill SPM or as I just started calling it, when sekolah will no longer be sekolah, but instead it would be Zaman Sekolah. I can't believe how fast time has flown by. And that, is honestly very scary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;People say, SPM is the creme ala creme the most important exam I'll ever have to sit for and not to mention the hardest. Another group says SPM is not as hard as they say it is. And some say, oh don't worry, 15% is the passing mark. Whatever they say, whatever they tell me, and whenever they convince me of something, I don't believe it. Because I don't want to. I certainly don't want to believe that it's the hardest and the most important exam. I don't want to get just 15 % to &lt;b&gt;just &lt;/b&gt;pass, and I don't want to believe that it's easy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I guess above all things, the pressure I put on myself and how hard I push myself is they key to the amount of A's I'll be seeing on that slip of paper that will definitely cause many many drops of tears. I don't want it to be tears of regret though. And that is why, I have to push myself. Even if I don't get the grades I want, knowing that I've worked hard, knowing that there was nothing else I could do, would get me by.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Confidence is what I need. I'm slowly learning to possess more and more of it as the days come. It somehow works. For example, when I'm studying Chemistry, it feels so liberating to actually understand it. Moreover these past few days, macam, so satisfactory that I understood what I never got. Whoa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If I tell myself I can do it then I can. If only  I can tell myself that for Add Maths. It's not that hard. It's not that hard. I need practice. I also need time. I'm constantly fighting against it. This is temporary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This. Is. Temporary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;One thing though, there's not much drama in my life nowwwww. Atleast I try. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I can't imagine how it's going to be like when it's a week to SPM. Actually agak depressing a bit since I have weeks and weeks of intervals to the next paper and the next paper and the next paper. And why dorang letak Sejarah on the first two days? Tak suka please.  And and why is Add Maths, Agama and Mod Maths three days in a row? And kenapaaa kena tunggu six days to sit for Chem paper, aka the last paper?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Need to do well for trials to build self-confidence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Okay so that's my motivation. Okay go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6441898409665484047?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6441898409665484047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6441898409665484047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6441898409665484047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6441898409665484047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-going-dotty.html' title='im going dotty'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sm9BEDkVNHI/AAAAAAAABMs/_ToMRdzrzFQ/s72-c/6172_108748228275_563158275_2080550_5466718_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-3799850298273070168</id><published>2009-07-27T18:27:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T18:48:14.514+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Privillege</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sm2FoVyKPqI/AAAAAAAABMk/J0AwHnVusTs/s1600-h/SDC10938.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sm2FoVyKPqI/AAAAAAAABMk/J0AwHnVusTs/s400/SDC10938.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363089659356921506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I know who poses like &lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;this&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;, do you?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I'm not suppose to be online. HAHA! Mammy's out and Daddy just came home, and he said &lt;i&gt;"You naughty naughty daughter, where is Mammy? I am going to TELL HER!"&lt;/i&gt; However, it isn't Mammy who came up with the no internet privilleges except for weekends rule. It was &lt;b&gt;ME&lt;/b&gt;! Tapi kan, going cold-turkey is kind've hard, so half an hour a day is enough. For today je, tomorrow tak. Yeahh, riiiigghhttt.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SO GUESS WHAT yesterday I slept at 10 :O Ho yeah. Still penat after school pfft. I got this scholarship form, Taylor's Principal Award 2010. I feel so nervous filling up the form. They require Mid-term examination marks. Minimum &lt;b&gt;six &lt;/b&gt;A's. Memang la tak kan. I only got &lt;i&gt;four&lt;/i&gt;. Would've gotten six. My B's were only maximum six marks away from an A. Sucks ath. Although, thankfully, I &lt;b&gt;had &lt;/b&gt;many posts and won a few bowling competitions so, it's fine if it's below six A's. No longer going to be bowling president :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What else. I guess that's all. And one weird thing that's happening is that, it actually feels good to study now. &lt;b&gt;When the mood is there. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-3799850298273070168?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/3799850298273070168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=3799850298273070168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3799850298273070168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3799850298273070168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/privillege.html' title='Privillege'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sm2FoVyKPqI/AAAAAAAABMk/J0AwHnVusTs/s72-c/SDC10938.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-7045337430126392993</id><published>2009-07-26T02:45:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T02:49:51.473+08:00</updated><title type='text'>loserrrr</title><content type='html'>So lately I like malas nak angkat phone calls because, I don't know, most of the calls pun  I like malas nak entertain. As sad as it sounds, I don't get excited when my phone rings anymore. I more like, worry as to who's it going to be or if it's a text cam, oh man, what do I reply. As I type this, I feel more sad than ever. Anyways that's not my point eheh.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just now, my phone rang, and I was like "Haih, who la call me now?" then it was Kevennnnn! He left for Oz again, and we did not even, hang out. I'm such a loser la. I didn't even go out for Sharon's and I feel so bad. But it was nice to get a I'm-going-already-you-take-care phone call. Sigh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Goodnight!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-7045337430126392993?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/7045337430126392993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=7045337430126392993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7045337430126392993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7045337430126392993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/loserrrr.html' title='loserrrr'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-93036886053312764</id><published>2009-07-25T01:29:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T18:49:02.908+08:00</updated><title type='text'>always</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#551A8B;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So I went to Elroy's. Despite the 'incident's I still thought the party was good overall. Mostly because I met so many of my primary school friends who I've came to miss over the years. I met people I haven't saw in at least 5 years. How they all look different, and suddenly all very sociable now. Rindu la! Was surprised with how Mardhiyah is now. Esha! Mar's so different now! And Sam, aww, Sam still remembers what I do and stuff.  I miss my scout days with Sam!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish that SU kids would be the slightest bit like SJ kids. How tightly-knit they are. Over here in SU most of us just travel in small cliques and stuff. Usually according to race. And like, you have to speak with a certain kind of slang to actually be accepted. They might not like you for conversing in English, cakap, perasan. Then when you speak Malay to some of them, diorang cakap, kampung. It's stupid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's kind of sad actually. So tumpang la SJ's atmosphere once in awhile, as it is I don't know, somehow, liberating? No that's not really the word. The word should describe how I want highschool to be. No cliques. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, I figured that I don't need to get drunk to be high. It looks fun, to enhance the hype level, and who's to say if  I will or will not try it, but as for now, I don't think I'm ready to try it. I am still strongly resisting it. I'm not going to be all anal about it saying how I'll never drink and stuff, because in the end, I just might. But as for now, I still say no to it. Funny how people &lt;b&gt;always &lt;/b&gt;persuade me to drink. It somehow makes me feel good to reject an offer so tempting. I wonder if it's better than getting drunk. One thing I wouldn't want is to get drunk and get spaghetti legs! I don't want to start drinking, because when I start, I know I'll not stop. Still strong, still strong! I'm barely around where alcohol and liquor are anyways. It's better if I never start :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But yeah, funny la see people drunk when it was jsut half an hour into the party. Chill la first!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-93036886053312764?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/93036886053312764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=93036886053312764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/93036886053312764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/93036886053312764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/always.html' title='always'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-2236217377081210422</id><published>2009-07-24T10:45:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T15:58:31.359+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fick</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Smkhj0OEElI/AAAAAAAABLU/cFZLb0RvMbQ/s1600-h/21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 282px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361853730558054994" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Smkhj0OEElI/AAAAAAAABLU/cFZLb0RvMbQ/s400/21.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight nak pakai baju apa? I know I nak pakai dress, but which one? I'm so sad that I'm talking to myself. OKAY bye! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-2236217377081210422?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/2236217377081210422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=2236217377081210422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2236217377081210422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2236217377081210422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/fick.html' title='fick'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Smkhj0OEElI/AAAAAAAABLU/cFZLb0RvMbQ/s72-c/21.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-4758470369864939423</id><published>2009-07-22T23:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T23:15:16.251+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oppurtunities</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;If someone prays for patience, do you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If they pray for courage, does God give them courage, or does he give them opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for their family to be closer, you think God zaps them with warm, fuzzy feelings? Or does he give them opportunities to love each other?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-4758470369864939423?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/4758470369864939423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=4758470369864939423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4758470369864939423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4758470369864939423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/oppurtunities.html' title='Oppurtunities'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-7855200153441091189</id><published>2009-07-21T18:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T18:36:44.869+08:00</updated><title type='text'>boomboompow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SmWYtP81mJI/AAAAAAAABKg/eGJ6yjbFMxw/s1600-h/GetAttachment.aspx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SmWYtP81mJI/AAAAAAAABKg/eGJ6yjbFMxw/s400/GetAttachment.aspx.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360858834597681298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Jun Shien (boyfriend number 4), Jowen (boyfriend number 1, Robin (boyfriend number 5)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;"Sayaaaaaaaaaang"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Setting up &lt;i&gt;Tuesdays&lt;/i&gt;, watching these children grow :) Hey we won! Jun Shien, Robin, Jowen and I! Hahaha! I am finally done with being pengerusi. That's kind've sad, but I'm glad I took it. I love my boys. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-7855200153441091189?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/7855200153441091189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=7855200153441091189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7855200153441091189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7855200153441091189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/boomboompow.html' title='boomboompow'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SmWYtP81mJI/AAAAAAAABKg/eGJ6yjbFMxw/s72-c/GetAttachment.aspx.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-5956083090237904161</id><published>2009-07-20T23:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T00:11:18.519+08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't push me</title><content type='html'>Boring la. I so don't have a life.  I don't have anything to blog about. I think, I've just realized how I don't have much time left till trials. And I am considering not going on that field trip to I don't even know where. Either Pusat Sains Negara or Pusat Kimia or whatever I don't know! I noticed the "I don'ts" in almost all of my sentences. Sigh. I don't know la.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then and then and then tomorrow I have to go to the Alley again. Yeah I whine everytime I have to go to Pyramid. Penat la! And everytime pun I say it's the last time, but it is NEVER the last time. But I know I know, it's time to get cracking. And yes, panic attacks are starting to get to be no kidding. Although, I'm not complaining. I work very efficiently under pressure. Well, it doesn't feel good, but it pushes me to study study study. To the point where I feel so naked without a heavy reference book. How SICK is that. But all's good. I think. No they're not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Emy's going back to Oz. No more lunch dates :( It's back to starving in the afternoons, with me too lazy to drag my ass downstairs to make lunch. No I do not make lunch. It's such a hassle. I eat lunch when there's food on the table. No kidding! But my household practices, dependency. So yah food, buat sendiri. Excluding dinner though. Kay, I don't know why dah terlanjur into dinner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh I fasted today. Yay me! What else?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's Elroy's party this Friday and I already said I would go. Butttttttt, hmm. I don't really feel like I deserve to go, since I haven't been studying as much as I had expected.  But we'll see. I just feel like indulging myself in books and more books and a gazillion facts. And face my Physics and Maths tutors, every hour of everyday and have them to myself. They are my favourite! As for Chemistry, well, lets just say, you can't very well like someone let alone confide in them enough to actually pour knowledge into you when they underestimate you, and ultimately don't think you sound smart. I'm such a whiny-baby, but I &lt;b&gt;hate &lt;/b&gt;people that underestiamte me. It's a, non-tolerable trait to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kay la, bye!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-5956083090237904161?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/5956083090237904161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=5956083090237904161' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5956083090237904161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5956083090237904161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/dont-push-me.html' title='don&apos;t push me'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-7238234243128889826</id><published>2009-07-18T17:43:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T00:37:19.855+08:00</updated><title type='text'>aina talks fashion?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SmGgQUiQZ4I/AAAAAAAABKQ/0SqK1itvDFQ/s1600-h/262164_dotdot.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SmGgQUiQZ4I/AAAAAAAABKQ/0SqK1itvDFQ/s400/262164_dotdot.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359741233798342530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I so feel like putting this on right now.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(minus the leather jacket)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am stuck in that phase again, where I want to look pretty everywhere I go hahaha and dress in things I don't usually wear. I don't know what the whole phase is about. I've even put on nail polish even when I know  I'd have to rub it off before tomorrow ends anyways. Well I don't have to, if I want to be standing infront of the whole entire assembly from start to finish. I'm not cool like that.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So today's destination is the Gardens. La, the Garden's je. It's not like I'm going to some big ass convention or function or whatever la kan. But I guess it's just for fun. You know, to kick up some self-confidence booster. Never did have that much of confidence when it comes to fashion. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the contrary, I, don't really care how big this part of my body is, or how weird this part of my body looks, or how small this part looks, or how unproportional these parts are. As long as I dress complementing them. And keep in mind not to enhance the flaws. And that's a good thing. I don't want to grow old regretting the youth I had convering up like a nun just because I'm afraid of what people will think. I wear shorts even if I don't have skinny legs, I wear long dresses even if I don't have the height for it and so on and so forth. Body I can work with when studies is not my main priorities for that moment of time. No use getting so worked up and obsessed about how my body looks like and miss out on all the lawa lawa clothes I want to wear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes, yeah it does get a tad bit agitating when people who are visibly smaller than me complain that they want to wear what I'm wearing but can't because they have big and weird and this and that. And they come up with all sorts of made-up excuses for me when I say"So? I wear them!" Confidence, you'll get once you are in the get-up you want to put on. You know? Just have a little faith in yourself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am just feeling so Dr Phil so please ignore me. Haha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-7238234243128889826?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/7238234243128889826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=7238234243128889826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7238234243128889826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/7238234243128889826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/aina-talks-fashion.html' title='aina talks fashion?!'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SmGgQUiQZ4I/AAAAAAAABKQ/0SqK1itvDFQ/s72-c/262164_dotdot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-851588146244274789</id><published>2009-07-16T22:46:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T23:19:49.728+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I dah lama tak terasa. It's not a matter of &lt;i&gt;siapa makan cili terasa pedas&lt;/i&gt;, it's a matter of common courtesy. If you seriously don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything. Especially when you know whatever words you're going to puke out are simply demotivating. I try as much as I can not to take it to heart, or personally. All on all being too sensetive. But if it's one after another each week, after week after week, I know it's valid enough for me to feel atleast something. It's making my heart feel so heavy. Like I just dry-swallowed a huge pill.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are times when everything just doesn't feel right. Lagi lagi when the temporary highs are realized as being, just, temporary. They're getting me by, but only just. And the only time when I truly feel happy and energized is after I've drank some kind of energy drink. Or when my family and I just sit and talk about nonsense. Hah, atleast I have those moments that take my breath away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess in all this mess there is still, some kind of, silver lining. Met Kevin after six months. Seeing him again, was a little surreal. But at the same time, it also felt like he never left. And met Aidid after, how long pun I tak ingat. He's the same. Loaded with stories. He's kind've like the storybook that never ends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then Emy's picking me up tomorrow. Besh! Need I say more? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl9B_YmDzgI/AAAAAAAABKA/ZalidGyQBlo/s1600-h/P6130052.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl9B_YmDzgI/AAAAAAAABKA/ZalidGyQBlo/s400/P6130052.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359074638783827458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Brat. Be jealous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl9ETUvDilI/AAAAAAAABKI/knCYUYyHXso/s1600-h/n563158275_933885_2981.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl9ETUvDilI/AAAAAAAABKI/knCYUYyHXso/s400/n563158275_933885_2981.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359077180368456274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If she can do anything, so can I.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Because she's superwoman, and I am supergirl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;AND FOR THE RECORD, SARCASM GETS PEOPLE VERY FAR.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;YOU just don't understand it. So sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-851588146244274789?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/851588146244274789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=851588146244274789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/851588146244274789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/851588146244274789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-dah-lama-tak-terasa.html' title=''/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl9B_YmDzgI/AAAAAAAABKA/ZalidGyQBlo/s72-c/P6130052.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-4191857764169773282</id><published>2009-07-15T10:56:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T00:36:00.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'>grow old with me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl1FlhviQfI/AAAAAAAABJw/SmWO6r2GXDM/s1600-h/Picture0130.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl1FlhviQfI/AAAAAAAABJw/SmWO6r2GXDM/s1600-h/Picture0130.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl1FlhviQfI/AAAAAAAABJw/SmWO6r2GXDM/s400/Picture0130.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358515642655982066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;31st August 2008&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal;  white-space: pre-wrap; "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And so, it has been too long since my hair's a desirable length. As you can see, I wasn't really happy with the haircut above haha.The next day after the session, I had a fever of 380 degrees (If there is such a thing). I wonder what'll happen on Merdeka Day this year. As it is an annual go-potong-hair day. So, this post will always be a reminder to me, to NOT to cut my hair THAT short ever again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl1Fv0ztwzI/AAAAAAAABJ4/sDu5wlpTKOs/s1600-h/Picture0630.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl1Fv0ztwzI/AAAAAAAABJ4/sDu5wlpTKOs/s1600-h/Picture0630.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl1Fv0ztwzI/AAAAAAAABJ4/sDu5wlpTKOs/s400/Picture0630.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358515819572478770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;15th  July 2009&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;Because now I'm happy. My ignorant-self just realized how long my hair has gotten. HAHA! So , love thy hair. The hair, the length, the oils are staying. Atleast untill prom. I pinky promise you,  hair. (I know I'm sad).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yeah it took my hair that long for my hair to grow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-4191857764169773282?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/4191857764169773282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=4191857764169773282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4191857764169773282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4191857764169773282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/grow-old-with-me.html' title='grow old with me'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sl1FlhviQfI/AAAAAAAABJw/SmWO6r2GXDM/s72-c/Picture0130.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-4412043803620418581</id><published>2009-07-13T14:11:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T14:20:08.131+08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE sermon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlrRy6UrAnI/AAAAAAAABJI/qpZGFFgrAoU/s1600-h/5530_1178022124291_1040258741_544596_5303854_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 321px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlrRy6UrAnI/AAAAAAAABJI/qpZGFFgrAoU/s400/5530_1178022124291_1040258741_544596_5303854_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357825379290251890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I stole this picture.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(if you still don't get it, I'm the one in orange)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The sermon I've been expecting and waiting for has finally arrived. So, I expect myself not to be online as often. And I also expect myself to sleep early. And I also expect mammy to let my cut school more often so I don't get exhausted and waste the whole afternoon and evening. One more bowling shiznit to take care of and I'm done. Books are going to be what I eat sleep and breathe. Nerd mode, finally, unfortunately, ON!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, where can I hide my laptop?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-4412043803620418581?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/4412043803620418581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=4412043803620418581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4412043803620418581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4412043803620418581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/sermon.html' title='THE sermon'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlrRy6UrAnI/AAAAAAAABJI/qpZGFFgrAoU/s72-c/5530_1178022124291_1040258741_544596_5303854_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-5985512379532681024</id><published>2009-07-12T00:57:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T02:09:45.450+08:00</updated><title type='text'>running in circles</title><content type='html'>I wonder why people waste their whole lives waiting for something they cannot have. I guess, it's human nature, wanting what you cannot have. But at a certain point in life, people, &lt;b&gt;like me,&lt;/b&gt; realize that I'm never going to get that impossible something, and move on instead of wasting my precious time, effort, sweat and tears. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just don't understand how some people just dwell on things that are only going to give them pain. Either from waiting to long or finally getting it and it just doesn't meet your expectations. I mean, there must be a reason why some things are just not yours. No matter how much you want to own them. Sometimes, you just can't. Fullstop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What agitates me more, is that how people choose things that are bad over things that are actually good for them, just because, well, just because. For no reason whatsoever. No one can say anything to snap them out of the daze they are constantly having. It's kind of stupid and sad in a way. It makes it harder when that someone meant something to you, or means a lot to you. It's like they're wasting their lives away and there is nothing you can do about it. All your efforts are just, shoved aside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I feel that, whenever you're stuck in a rutt, let someone in, let someone help you. Ni tak. Instead, rasa like people are out to get you and make you feel more miserable. We see you running around in circles, atleast let people help you straighten out that circle. Nak belagak hero pulak. Mr/Mrs I-can-do-everything-myself-because-I-am-macho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's more heartbreaking is whenever I see them almost at their goal, when it is in their reach, what's left is just a grasp, it slips away. Kenapa it slips away? Sebab, their focus lari. Thinking of that thing, that they just have to have, but can't, and ultimately bad for them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being a third person of the outside party, is hard at times. Not like I'm that great at handling things la kan, and everyone knows how long it took me to get out of a problematic situation. But I am no ignorant, and arrogant, and stupid to not let people help me. Everybody needs help. SO don't la be too egoistic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And why have or be with something or someone that doesn't love you back, rather than something or someone that loves you more than you love them back? Unless he or she annoys you. Then you probably should just, not choose both. And find new things and new people to explore and discover. Because, when one leaves, another comes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SljT0Xqwv4I/AAAAAAAABJA/HusE2dGqQk0/s1600-h/IMAG0504.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SljT0Xqwv4I/AAAAAAAABJA/HusE2dGqQk0/s320/IMAG0504.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357264653417234306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Just like this one! HIHI.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yes my layers dah panjang, I need a haircut. PRONTO.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;///&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;After reading this post after publishing it, it is as though I wrote while I was high. Macam repeating every single point. OH WELL. Let this be a lesson not to blog late at night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-5985512379532681024?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/5985512379532681024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=5985512379532681024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5985512379532681024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5985512379532681024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/running-in-circles.html' title='running in circles'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SljT0Xqwv4I/AAAAAAAABJA/HusE2dGqQk0/s72-c/IMAG0504.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-5974319787096065482</id><published>2009-07-11T01:09:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T01:45:51.435+08:00</updated><title type='text'>what a nightmare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sld-AxdWblI/AAAAAAAABI4/WZnnFtotcGI/s1600-h/jjj.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 176px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sld-AxdWblI/AAAAAAAABI4/WZnnFtotcGI/s320/jjj.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356888833522036306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was waiting impatiently at my front door. Not able to sit, nor stand still. Pacing to and fro'. Suddenly, that familiar red Mazda turns up, and parks just below the big old tree in front of the fences. I pressed '1' on my automatic gate's remote control, and it opens. And so do the doors of that striking coloured vehicle. Three doors to be exact.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Out pops Elly from the driver's seat, Jerome from the back passenger seat and unexpectedly, York from the front passenger seat. "What was he doing here?", I thought to myself. But somehow, deep down, I felt like I knew exactly that he was coming, and I expected his visit along with Elly's usual and routined visits. I've always loved her visits. But this time, she brought along, a surprise. I wasn't sure if it was a pleasant one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They walked through my gate one by one. Elly and Jerome just smiled and let York walk ahead. I was ready to give him a non-effortless smile and the most fake friendly hand shake I've ever given to anybody for as long as I have lived. Instead, I was in for something more. My hand shake was ignored, and I was given a hug. A hug, I've always wanted but never got.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At my front door, the most unromantic place anyone could ever imagine, he hugged me and whispered simple but the most meaningful words he has ever said to me. If I've ever dreamt of a more sincere apology, or wished for words more truthful, he did it better. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He whispered "I realize how I've made you cry, and I am sorry. I love you and I want you". My heart was melting. I trembled at my knees. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I woke up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know what I did wrong. Or how I ended up getting dreams like these almost every week, but I hope it would just go away pretty soon. As far as I am concerned, I am the injured party here, I should not be haunted every night. Please tell me what goes around, still comes around. I don't deserve this. And that I know pretty well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MEK SIK MOK MIMPI GINEY LAGIK!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-5974319787096065482?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/5974319787096065482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=5974319787096065482' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5974319787096065482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5974319787096065482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-was-waiting-impatiently-at-my-front.html' title='what a nightmare'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sld-AxdWblI/AAAAAAAABI4/WZnnFtotcGI/s72-c/jjj.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-2706042801093915700</id><published>2009-07-10T00:27:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T00:49:22.916+08:00</updated><title type='text'>holla</title><content type='html'>Capek banget gue sendirik pun enggak tau ngapain.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe sebab today, there were alot of 'sebak(s)' involved. During Biology in the morning, and during Add Maths tuition (ho yes, so embarassing) and everytime I hear the song Smile by Charlie Chaplin, but Michael Jackson's version, or Kokokaina's. I know, how ironic, the song Smile is suppose to make me smile, but no, it backfires on me. It only makes the tears fall faster!  Especially when it goes &lt;i&gt;"Light up your face with gladness, hide every trace of sadness, although a tear maybe ever so near, that's the time you must keep on trying, smile, what's the use of crying?".&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SUCK IT UP DUDE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found it very sweet that he noticed and actually stopped to ask me if I was okay, because he had reckon that I looked very down. Crossing fingers and toes that tomorrow will be much much much better. Sigh. I just noticed that half the things I whine about to the other half are things, I just don't confront in reality, you know. Like I just let them slip, like &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;that&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. And forget to feel. How. Teruk. Heh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlYe4r0mrvI/AAAAAAAABIo/jZ32IE0zD80/s1600-h/pp.bmp"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlYfI7d7cBI/AAAAAAAABIw/yoNr-lvZLgg/s1600-h/pp.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlYfI7d7cBI/AAAAAAAABIw/yoNr-lvZLgg/s320/pp.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356503045066420242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;AINA IS IN DESPERATE NEED OF DISTRACTION FROM LAYANING HER FEELINGS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And also a hair cut like the one I got last February, when this picture was taken. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-2706042801093915700?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/2706042801093915700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=2706042801093915700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2706042801093915700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2706042801093915700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/holla.html' title='holla'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlYfI7d7cBI/AAAAAAAABIw/yoNr-lvZLgg/s72-c/pp.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1977540026239068065</id><published>2009-07-08T23:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T13:50:05.483+08:00</updated><title type='text'>he dies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;When King Lear dies in Act V, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He's written "He dies." That's all, nothing more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is "He dies." It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with "He dies." And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know it's only natural to be sad, but not because of the words "He dies." but because of the life we saw prior to the words. I've lived all five of my acts, Mahoney, and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go. I'm only asking that you turn the page, continue reading... and let the next story begin. And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest "He died."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;-Mr Magorium&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;In other things that have nothing to do with Michael;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Sometimes I wonder if it's better not to have feelings. As in, not be sensetive. So you wouldn't know how to feel sad, or hurt, or confused. It is more than just agitating when something small builds up into something big resulting from a bad day. It saddens you more when you know it isn't your fault. And it breaks your heart knowing that you could've done something to put a hault to all these things if you just would've known, if you would just open your eyes a little more. If you would just. But now, there's nothing left for you to do, but just hope for a better tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Just one of those days when crying makes me feel better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1977540026239068065?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1977540026239068065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1977540026239068065' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1977540026239068065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1977540026239068065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/he-dies.html' title='he dies'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-3081972864062025778</id><published>2009-07-07T15:45:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T16:07:35.069+08:00</updated><title type='text'>lately I've been thinking</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlMA8c5btNI/AAAAAAAABIg/aZql4XQd0bk/s1600-h/P7050170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlMA8c5btNI/AAAAAAAABIg/aZql4XQd0bk/s320/P7050170.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355625420422886610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it funny how things tend to happen all at once? Well, for me it does. When one good thing happens, it leads to another good thing and another and another, and sometimes, all in one day! This isn't bragging, because, when one bad thing happens to me, another bad thing happens, and another and another and the cycle just never ends. I wonder why that is so.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess it's a way of God telling me, it's not all fun and games. Maybe everything bad that happens are to keep me grounded and humble, and snap me out of dazes I've constantly been having, and bring me back down to Earth from cloud nine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Throughout the months, I know I've learnt how to deal with things. It's either I deal with it or I don't. If it's a minority, I shrug it off, and say "To hell with it, it isn't worth it". And if it's a big deal, then, I let myself whine about it for a little while and sort things out. But most of the time, I never stop whining, even during I am sorting things out. When I can't sort things out, and find trouble confronting it, then I whine, and whine and whine to the ones, I would say, dearest to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, yesterday was a good day. I might've complained about going to the bowling alley, just a little bit, but I'm glad I went! I especially loved how one drama unfolded after another. It was, ah-mah-zing! And I might've accidentally called someone, Bie? HAHAHAHA! I hope he tak perasan as in perasaaaaaan, not perasan as in notice. But if he perasan pun, takpelah, HAHAHAHA! Kay that was funny. It's funny because I just recalled it. Okay I know it isn't funny. Weee!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It would've been a year tomorrow :( I shouldn't really say this, but I do miss you. The nice you. Not the kurang ajar you. The you I didn't know. The you I knew early of last year. The human you. Wah! I can't have my cake and eat it too! And that is okay. It really is. And it's weird I got a smile. It's, hilarious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow, you might've noticed the change of my blogging style. First, it used to be a journal of how things went.  Then I went through a phase of self-discovery and had an opinion about everything and anything, and then I went to emo, and now, I find amazement in every little thing. And I sound like a bimbo, because I am not that so-called philosopher I once was. I think, because I my mind, isn't focused to life an it's contents anymore. It is sadly on SPM. And there are certain boundaries to day dreaming now. Brain cells are reserved for facts. Boring, boring facts. But atleast I update my blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And kinda I miss Leanne. I see her on Wednesdays only. Pshhhhh!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-3081972864062025778?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/3081972864062025778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=3081972864062025778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3081972864062025778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/3081972864062025778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/lately-ive-been-thinking.html' title='lately I&apos;ve been thinking'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlMA8c5btNI/AAAAAAAABIg/aZql4XQd0bk/s72-c/P7050170.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-8862054857647147014</id><published>2009-07-06T13:39:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T18:24:41.000+08:00</updated><title type='text'>machindiawa</title><content type='html'>I think I've lost my blogging mojo. But events that took place are worth mentioning. So yes, I'll blog about it. I'm trying to kill time because I am too lazy to shower because shower leads to getting ready and getting ready means going to the bowling alley, of which I am so &lt;i&gt;psyched &lt;/i&gt;about! Malasnyaaaaa, this couch is to comfortable. It is extra comfortable today. I just got home from school, from an intense bitching session of Hari Keluarga slash Talent Quest dinner.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So Hari Keluarga was amazing. No lah, it was okay. Kenjiu was selling fresh made kuey teow, I swear it smelt so good, I can smell it now. I didn't get a chance to taste it sebab it finished! We sold RM1960 worth of hotdogs and kuey teow. Solely on that. Which is quite good considering other classes got RM4000 from selling food, drinks, organizing games and dj-ing. No offence but, no fair! But it's okay, I'm quite happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was so stressed because people were getting angry. Seven kuey teow orders were coming from the front of the stall and another six at the back. And Malaysians being Malaysians mana ada courtesy to beratur kan. So people were getting pissed at me because they can't contain their salivas for the kuey teow anymore haha! Last last I left the stall at about 11 am, I was there since 7 30 am! Left with Einul, but we ditched each other and went our seperate ways hahaha! Only joking, but yes we did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was with Hazim Halimi and Hazim Zaki and Tengku, and you know, those other SJ kids. They are so nice, I didn't know they were that nice! Parties with them are, the shiz compared to the ones we make haha! Happening la. Met them before but, this time we've pass that I am shy, I don't want to talk to you phase. When I got ditched by Hazim and Tengku, I was with Hazim Zaki being ditched together. It was good :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw infidelity infront of my stall! Dude, tak payah la infront of my stall! Kill joy la! Now the semangat-fire of going to school has died. How like that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh the Dinner was good. With Deep and stuff. I swear we were the loudest table ever. We only got to perform one song. It is sad, but during the footloose session, we just got on stage and started to dance and sing to every song we didn't get to perform. HAH PUAS! We even boogied with Mr Jacob. Yes Mr Jacob!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So YES, that is what I've been up to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday pulak it was Mammy's birthday. And for the first time, we were camwhoring, WITH MAMMY! It is one of the memories that will always stay vivid in my mind forever because, camwhoring is certainly not in ze mother's dictionary. So, PICTURES!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:-webkit-monospace;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlGRtf6UN3I/AAAAAAAABIA/aEH-r6O700E/s1600-h/P7040138.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlGRtf6UN3I/AAAAAAAABIA/aEH-r6O700E/s320/P7040138.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355221642766464882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlGRt4UImvI/AAAAAAAABIQ/96sY7UCFGn4/s1600-h/hh.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlGRt4UImvI/AAAAAAAABIQ/96sY7UCFGn4/s320/hh.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355221649317206770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlGRtqQALpI/AAAAAAAABII/oJhxKDN0FHQ/s1600-h/P7040151.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlGRtqQALpI/AAAAAAAABII/oJhxKDN0FHQ/s320/P7040151.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355221645541781138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlGRtEKBIZI/AAAAAAAABH4/aWmFTZZgxrA/s1600-h/oo.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 294px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlGRtEKBIZI/AAAAAAAABH4/aWmFTZZgxrA/s320/oo.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355221635316130194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlGRuXpJxWI/AAAAAAAABIY/8u4HhBjZTzw/s1600-h/P7050179.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlGRuXpJxWI/AAAAAAAABIY/8u4HhBjZTzw/s320/P7050179.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355221657726862690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-8862054857647147014?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/8862054857647147014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=8862054857647147014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8862054857647147014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8862054857647147014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/machindiawa.html' title='machindiawa'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SlGRtf6UN3I/AAAAAAAABIA/aEH-r6O700E/s72-c/P7040138.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-5990798734745387044</id><published>2009-07-03T22:47:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T22:58:00.119+08:00</updated><title type='text'>he tries to be alot of things I'd expect</title><content type='html'>I really don't have much to say, except for I bought a dress for tomorrow's dinner and shiz, and I am hoping that I'll get to sing Ternyata tomorrow. Heh. And I hope everyone'll sound good. And I hope he doesn't bring a date to the dinner. If he does, he'll spoil my whole night man!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today, I had a jamming session with Shahid Rogers and Yap Min  Jet. BEST GILA! I swear they are the most amazing guitarist and bassist I've ever met. So, minding our business, we were jamming to the hall's sound system. Yes everyone could hear, how tak tau malu! But no one was there anyways except for people passing through the hall.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then balik balik, after Dheepan sent me home, YES my Mazic sent me home (still can't believe he drives to school) one hour after school ends, Anis told me Abang was just at home. I was like HAH?! So called Abang and he says he came because Emy was looking for me as I didn't pick up my phone.  Awww, so sweet! Called Emy and makan donuts! And went to Sarah's school to teman  Abang get her report card. But had a very very very very good day with Emy and Abang. I've never realized how much  I've missed it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I just got back from shoppengggggggg!! Penat, goodnight!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-5990798734745387044?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/5990798734745387044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=5990798734745387044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5990798734745387044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5990798734745387044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/he-tries-to-be-alot-of-things-id-expect.html' title='he tries to be alot of things I&apos;d expect'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1721090548994556840</id><published>2009-07-03T00:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T00:15:17.480+08:00</updated><title type='text'>eheh</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SkzdAmoAreI/AAAAAAAABHo/9aJlBq2EyGQ/s1600-h/4759_98647783275_563158275_1926153_634584_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SkzdAmoAreI/AAAAAAAABHo/9aJlBq2EyGQ/s400/4759_98647783275_563158275_1926153_634584_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353897059474779618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1721090548994556840?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1721090548994556840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1721090548994556840' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1721090548994556840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1721090548994556840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/eheh.html' title='eheh'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SkzdAmoAreI/AAAAAAAABHo/9aJlBq2EyGQ/s72-c/4759_98647783275_563158275_1926153_634584_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6820012204498492861</id><published>2009-07-01T14:46:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T16:52:39.352+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the kid is not my son</title><content type='html'>Hi! Yay! Guess what? I am going to get to sing during the dinner this Saturday night afterall! Sik dapat Talent Quest finals, dapat nyanyi for the interlude and when dinner is being served. And to top it all off, it isn't a performance, it's just background music, so the pressure won't be that much. Kan? I hope not!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So far I will be singing Ternyata, &lt;s&gt;Quando Quando Quando, Drive,&lt;/s&gt; and perhaps Dancing Queen, Wonderwall, and Billie Jean. I'm not too sure as to how many songs I'm going to sing yet. And yes, I get to sing with a band! I'm so excited. I even got to play the drums during practice just now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Practice the whole day tomorrow. I don't know why some of my teachers just trust me. Of course I was out for rehearsals, Einul and I actually, and we didn't tell them, we just told Aaron. They still put our names in the file ponteng under "Keluar Dengan Kebenaran". I love them. I heart Puan Siti Sarifah and Puan Lee Hee Ai.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kay that's all for updates. Bye!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6820012204498492861?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6820012204498492861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6820012204498492861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6820012204498492861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6820012204498492861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/07/kid-is-not-my-son.html' title='the kid is not my son'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-5852725105579425723</id><published>2009-06-29T22:33:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T22:55:46.779+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Y again?</title><content type='html'>Hello. I went bowling just now. God it sucked. I mean really, sucked. As it tak ingat dunia punya, suck. Kay now it's beginning to sound vulgar. So anyways, yes, it sucked. I cannot la, I don't have the feel to bowl anymore, yes the &lt;b&gt;feel, &lt;/b&gt;whatever that means. That was part of the reason. The other half of the reason was because of Mr Yap, who kept bugging me. While I'm on the approach, he'll go, &lt;b&gt;boo&lt;/b&gt;! Or better still, &lt;b&gt;woohoo&lt;/b&gt;! Yea thanks Jowen. Yes I merajuk. Haha! Resulted in me playing a game of 113. Nice! I feel so lembik. After three games pun my tendons were acting up. THREE GAMES. What the hell is wrong with me. Dulu okay je 18 games straight. Pfft.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I haven't been updating for awhile, which is unusual. But, I have nothing to talk about. It's the same old same old getting sick and not having the mood to study (but have already made a study scheduele) and friends going away and coming back to Earth and shiz like that. Nothing interesting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, do YOU guys know the story about the Boy Who Cried Wolf? If you don't now let me tell you. He kept crying out that a wolf was near him, but when the villagers came to his rescue, he was only messing around, and yes there wasn't a wolf in sight. He did that, a few times. Everytime the villagers came, the wolf would still be, absent. However, one day, a real wolf came and he really cried wolf. But no one came, because no one believed him anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is how I'm feeling right now. I know in friendship you're suppose to support each other through the lowest and the highest of times, but what if supporting means losing that friend everytime you support him? And everytime everything's okay, and each time I'm being convinced that everything's okay, it will only turn not-okay in a matter of days, hours even! It's hard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's even harder when looking back, he was always there for me when the ones I expected to always have a shoulder for me, just, disappears. Sigh. Life as we know it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I don't know why I don't want to deal with it. I need to suck it up !!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only reason why anyone anywhere should be sad now is because of Michael Jackson's death.  Anything else is simply not legit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to, ganti puasa haha! But I want to eat those waffles at school. Hah! Another dilemma. I have to go now, it's almost eleven and I had a long day. Goodnight!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-5852725105579425723?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/5852725105579425723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=5852725105579425723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5852725105579425723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5852725105579425723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/itsy-again.html' title='Y again?'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-5432099766196989750</id><published>2009-06-26T22:47:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T23:07:32.044+08:00</updated><title type='text'>no shit son</title><content type='html'>Let's start with today. It was too hot to sleep in my room, since my aircond has officially k.o-ed with no chances of recovery, which is sad.  And so I shifted downstairs to where the ultimate horse power aircond is with my cousins, and where I slept on the couch. Unfortunately I only had 5 hours of sleep. Dragged my sorry ass out of bed to find out that Michael Jackson had passed away. HOW SAD! And finally. I was wondering when he would kick the bucket, seeing as he had done a million and one things to himself. One thing I cannot deny is that he was a legend, and he still is. His songs are the best ones to get stuck in your head. I'd be more than happy if it's his songs in my head. Even if it's all day. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By rehat time things got shittier and I cannot believe what I heard, but it hurt me. The news did not hurt me, it was expected, eventhough still unbelievable. What hurt me was the way I received the news. Cuts me in half. Vent about it in a little bit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Balik sekolah, terus Emy picked me up and pergi Wondermilk! I swear I can live in that shop. Everything is so, GORGEOUS and everything comes with a price tag. Therefore it is dangerous. Met up with Abang Jaa there who spent, A LONG five minutes, ehem. And then teman Emy pergi buat ATM card. Oh yes, I ate SMORES. Leanne, saya makan smores. The one you recommended. Got me hyper. Couldn't sit still. Anyways, it's been awhile since I got lost with Emy. So it was just like old times (like &lt;b&gt;old &lt;/b&gt;was, so &lt;b&gt;long &lt;/b&gt;ago)! Lepas tu  I got dropped of at Pyramid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where! I bought new black shorts. FINALLY! Dorothy perkins are selling shorts again at very reasonable prices, so APA LAGI LA KAN. Luckily I liked how the one that was cheaper looked on me. Was very tempted to buy the expensive one by the ways. Hehe! Yada yada, pergi alley and bumped into Fairuz there. Then went out of the alley, since there's nothing worth seeing (right..) and headed to Forever 21 where I met Dinie and  Shaiful and got a phone call from Mammy who asked me to go up to the cinemas. On the way there, met DINA AND JAC JAC. Kay, nasib baik dapat jumpa Jac before she goes off to Singapore. So many 'met(s)' today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I WATCHED TRANSFORMERS AND IT WAS DAMN AWESOME.  I think the dude next to me was bloody annoyed with me since I was fidgeting like a little kid. I was literally sitting at the edge of my seat, going "WOOO BUMBLEBEE!!" Oh man, Transformers 2 is the shit man, it was the most awesomest movie ever! Next to My Fair Lady. My my, what a big contrast, but, it, was, sheer, awesomeness. I want, to watch, again. No I didn't fall asleep this time heh! But it is DEFINITELY better than the first one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to vent. Need to get in the mood first. Hihi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tuitions tomorrow. Yikes. Haven't been having tuitions in awhile due to feeling under the weather a lot of times and being very busy with anything BUT school. Sigh. I need to slow down. Now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-5432099766196989750?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/5432099766196989750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=5432099766196989750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5432099766196989750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5432099766196989750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/no-shit-son.html' title='no shit son'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-8042632052196415154</id><published>2009-06-25T15:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T15:17:03.760+08:00</updated><title type='text'>break the habit</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SkMinrhLN0I/AAAAAAAABHY/ku4Kpl9DzK8/s1600-h/Picture0618.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SkMinrhLN0I/AAAAAAAABHY/ku4Kpl9DzK8/s320/Picture0618.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351158847338395458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a habit whenever I'm on my laptop. I am bored. Should've gone to school. Then again, when I'm at school, I'd wish for nothing else but to be at home. I should be doing my PEKA now. But I'm having trouble getting to it. Hah. So anyways, SPM's permanently taking a space in a corner of my mind, not leaving me be even for a second. And that's, a good thing. I'm expecting anxiety attacks in the near future. Great! Hihi! Okaylah, PEKA. Can't believe I ended up having only two PEKAs when I should've had four. What?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-8042632052196415154?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/8042632052196415154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=8042632052196415154' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8042632052196415154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8042632052196415154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/break-habit.html' title='break the habit'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SkMinrhLN0I/AAAAAAAABHY/ku4Kpl9DzK8/s72-c/Picture0618.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6992955405756812983</id><published>2009-06-25T01:54:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T02:21:38.921+08:00</updated><title type='text'>magic</title><content type='html'>Funny how a song, or a trace of smell can bring you back to one very vivid memory. Like listening to Colbie Caillat on the radio, and being able to recall every single text, call and conversation that took place during my obsession with Colbie. Like smelling perfume that smelt like Nicole when I was back in Switzerland. It's really sad, knowing how things have changed, how things never stay the same.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm up to the point where my heart feels heavy to start anything new because, I know it will all change in time anyways. So why bother you know? But me being me, I know I am somewhat optimistic. I haven't got time for should've would've and could'ves. And so, I take everything that comes my way, without hoping for it or doubting it. Just take it as it comes, and see what happens. Isn't it much easier that way? My life is too short to worry about things, making it more difficult for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dwelling on simple things that make me happy is also, GOOD! Small things like, a particular person walking me to the stairs at school or asking me if I am okay. Hehe. "&lt;b&gt;Cause you make me smile even just for a while"&lt;/b&gt;? HAHA! Sigh, I swear I fall easily. It doesn't take me long to forget things either. Hehe. Some things are WORTH forgetting is it not? But the things that are worth forgetting are the hardest to forget. Such a paradox.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While I absorb everything that makes my heart skip a beat, I choose not to deal with, like for example, people saying this one day and saying that the next. Nothing pisses me off more than that. I hate people who don't hold on to their words. It's like, I'm stupid enough to believe them everytime they say no, (I don't like that anymore) and yes, (I will never like anything else but that) -to the same thing. I hope I'm making sense. Don't waste my time with your dramas, because, you don't keep to your word. You're a good actor, yes you are. I opt to not deal with you. I might end up just, hating you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know this is just the PMS talking. And guess what, I'm having a bad fever, and sorethroat. No it isn't swine flu because the Emeh is not sweating out cold sweat like me or having trouble swallowing. This is too much sun, with too little water. Stubborn? Yes  I am! MUST spend time with Emy soon!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dreams got better! Thank you God!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;"I remember the way that you move,  you're dancing easily through my dreams, it's hitting me harder and harder with all your smiles".&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I love Mr Jacob for not being pleased with the results of the Talent Quest. I can't believe girls in white boots prancing around the stage got it, and girls who sing acapella got through too! I wonder, if I were to sing without music not knowing if I was in tune or not and gallivant here and there in white boots, would I get it too? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I wonder, where the person of whom I spent minimum of 2 hours with on the phone singing Spice Girls best hits. Di manakahhhhh? I know I won't hear from you for a month, or two months, or three months or so. But I guess that's okay? It's never okay. And that sucks. Rindunya!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6992955405756812983?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6992955405756812983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6992955405756812983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6992955405756812983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6992955405756812983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/magic.html' title='magic'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-4216022194261218710</id><published>2009-06-24T00:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T00:39:03.312+08:00</updated><title type='text'>addictive</title><content type='html'>It is not fair that I keep dreaming about you everytime I am about to see you or after I see you. Which is really affecting my goodnight's sleep. Explains why I keep on waking up at 2 am everyday. Hopefully, after next week, I won't be having those dreams anymore. But I highly doubt it. Seeing as now, I have another reason to be 50 steps away from you every week. Sigh.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Atleast temporary highs are always available everyday. And it's making me go higher each day! Hehe. Distractions are necessary. Will never know, what they'll bring me. For the moment, I'm savouring each moment (even if this may sound dramatic), but I need them, to keep me, sober? Even without them I think I'd be just fine, but not as motivated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Motivates me even if &lt;b&gt;you &lt;/b&gt;simply &lt;b&gt;don't &lt;/b&gt;listen to me anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh petang tadi pergi playground with Aiman (aged six) and Adruce (aged 15). How cute, two budak keciks. Playing together?! On the retarded very orange hanging bridge?! Kay kesian I being seen with them. Unfortunately I love them to death, so, can't help myself! Should've taken pictures CIS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-4216022194261218710?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/4216022194261218710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=4216022194261218710' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4216022194261218710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4216022194261218710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/addictive.html' title='addictive'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-8718239691149681941</id><published>2009-06-22T10:56:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T11:34:51.641+08:00</updated><title type='text'>rawr</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sj76tXkxhzI/AAAAAAAABHQ/vYBMzUyD3DU/s1600-h/4819_93140682879_700957879_1978932_3375636_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sj76tXkxhzI/AAAAAAAABHQ/vYBMzUyD3DU/s320/4819_93140682879_700957879_1978932_3375636_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349989064692041522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody pergi sungai and I tertinggal! Wanted to go, was supposed to go, but I got a little visit from a friend. A friend whom I am not too fond of. The one that comes every month. For five days. Damn the curse of Eve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, takpe, because I was supposed to go for a meeting at the bowling alley with the Milo League people so I should go now that I am free. Besides, nanti, jumpa, EMY! Yay, Emy is back, so later jumpa Emy at the alley, so excited! Four months was such a big deal for me because prior to the day she went abroad, I saw her almost, everyday. It takes time to get immune to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am left at home alone with all three boys. And they are being surprisingly quiet and well behaved. Haha! They're so cute playing amongst each other. If it were me, dah lama restless and buat bising banyak. I spoke too soon, they're starting to jump from sofa to sofa as if they were in the Sound of  Music or something like that.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sj73hNGa-7I/AAAAAAAABHA/3kOFFiq1EsA/s1600-h/4819_93140677879_700957879_1978931_3852115_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sj73hNGa-7I/AAAAAAAABHA/3kOFFiq1EsA/s320/4819_93140677879_700957879_1978931_3852115_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349985557187066802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sj76tEK_fMI/AAAAAAAABHI/pHIMUK42roM/s1600-h/4819_93140637879_700957879_1978925_2183084_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sj76tEK_fMI/AAAAAAAABHI/pHIMUK42roM/s320/4819_93140637879_700957879_1978925_2183084_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349989059483630786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, it is 11 21 am and I am not in school. Because I was suppose to go sungai! I hate school, and the sound system. Makes me sound like a troll. Didn't make it to semis for Talent Quest again.  I sang John Lennon's Imagine, but another version of it. So, the range is large, so I can't quite grasp the wide range-esque of it. So tak dapat! But I didn't feel bummed at all. Sort of expected it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let's face it, I'm not meant for the spotlight on the stage. I'm just the Plain Jane who sings plain songs, but in tune. You know? Haha ! And that's ok.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If people were to ask me what my special trait is, I'd answer "I can sing, I can dance, I play sports, I play instruments, I can write, I can write poems, I can write songs, I can bake, I can draw, I can paint, I do everything. I am versatile. Whatever it is you want me to do, I can do it. Doesn't mean I'll do the best, but I certainly do MY best".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't need to listen to that asshole who says I don't finish anything I start. It's okay that I don't finish it, rather than not starting at all. Like him. Idiot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;///&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So since you guys have been spreading rumours here and there about me, saying that I am allegedly an item with a particular person, I'll no longer deny it because there is no use anyways. I'd prefer to strengthen the rumour by giving out a statement which you guys did not want to see, or believe. Take it take it take it! As long as I know the truth, I'm good!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-8718239691149681941?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/8718239691149681941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=8718239691149681941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8718239691149681941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8718239691149681941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/rawr.html' title='rawr'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sj76tXkxhzI/AAAAAAAABHQ/vYBMzUyD3DU/s72-c/4819_93140682879_700957879_1978932_3375636_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6188188365143604095</id><published>2009-06-19T00:15:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T13:15:56.058+08:00</updated><title type='text'>can't read my</title><content type='html'>On late nights like these when  I don't have to drag my sorry butt out of bed for school the next day, I go on Facebook browsing around like a little stalker. Simply because I am avoiding my blog. Avoiding it because I don't want to cause any drama by lashing out how I feel. No matter how I try to keep the people and the situations I talk about anonymous, in the end people still ask me about and guess who I blog about. Most of the time, they're wrong. Which is sort of funny in a way. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't like being around people I used to love horsing around with a little while ago. Maybe, I'm being selfish, because I just don't want to deal with things that make me more, agitated. What agitates me is the tendency of people making big deals out of small little things. It's just a waste of time. And the fact that they don't deal with it, and just expect it to go away just like that, makes everything more, &lt;b&gt;interesting&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't understand. Maybe I really don't understand. It's safe to say that I don't have that much problems or dilemmas or sorrows to go through anymore. However, it isn't fair when someone says that I don't know how they feel, when I very well know how they feel. I've been there, I've done that. And guess what? I am not in that situation anymore. Because I sucked it up, and I sorted it out. If the situation is a gone-case then, I won't bother fixing it. I don't have anything to lose, and even if I did have something to lose, it'll only be headaches and heartaches.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sure, I have people around me who I &lt;b&gt;think &lt;/b&gt;care about me. Even if they are pretending, they're there for me. But I can't expect them to listen to all my soap operas everytime I talk to them. I understand that they will get bored of it sooner or later. They don't want to be around a person who is constantly in the gutter, even after comforting and advicing. Even if there was a valid reason for being depressed, there is always time to smile or laugh about things. Even if it's just for a millisecond. So what if whatever you're going through feels like is killing you? Hey, you are still alive aren't you? As the saying goes, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. What you're going through is probably nothing compared to other people going through bigger problems in the world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel bad, because sometimes I just do not want to listen. It might be selfish of me, but if smiles and frowns are balanced, it wouldn't be an issue. Sometimes I just get tired of frowns you know? I just want to laugh and feel good when I am around someone. Not the other way around. Especially when all my efforts of trying to make someone feel better, just ulitmately fails, because allegedly,&lt;b&gt;I just don't understand how they feel.&lt;/b&gt; Kind of makes me feel like a failure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's harder when you know you love that someone very much. I am just, tired of all of this. Highschool should be memorable, not some memory you're desperately trying to erase. It'd be nice to not try so hard to make it rememberable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;///&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did fairly good on my midterms, and I am happy with the marks I got because I deserved every single on of them. I got all the marks I targeted for (excluding add maths) but, everything else is just, satisfactory! Only freaks of nature like Leanne get 81 for Biology and an 83 for Add Maths. So, gila, jealous, but still very proud of her. I don't know why she's so smart. Oh yeah, Leanne ajak jogging next week. Hihihi! Isn't that funny? I wonder who'll be dragging who out of the house. Should bring Bebe and DC along as bodyguards !!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SjpuRSEjsOI/AAAAAAAABG4/l5l4S_Hk87k/s1600-h/P6110040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SjpuRSEjsOI/AAAAAAAABG4/l5l4S_Hk87k/s320/P6110040.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348708750643671266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seeing my boys tomorrow. Excited nya! Still haven't rehearsed with Matt for Talent Quest! It was nice of him to pay half of the registration fee and will still only claim 20% of the money &lt;b&gt;IF &lt;/b&gt;we win. Nice kan nice kan nice kan? Weird side of Matt I've never, ever, seen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Emy balik in three days, actually &lt;b&gt;TWO &lt;/b&gt;days, time flies so fast I can't believe it. I miss her so much! Finally, Zanmai with the usuals. Gah! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Should  I or should I not, should I or should I not, should I or should I not, go to Urbanscapes? Should go to shop. Should not go not to waste money. Should go to have fun. Should not go because Zee isn't going to be there. How now brown cow?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And and and ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;I GOT A 67 FOR MY BIOLOGY! FIRST TIME GETTING A B EVER IN MY BIOLOGY HISTORY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And our batch is the last to disect frogs. They finally came to their senses that it is actually inhumane to cut innocent frogs and toads up. I did not cut the frog, I swear!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6188188365143604095?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6188188365143604095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6188188365143604095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6188188365143604095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6188188365143604095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/cant-read-my.html' title='can&apos;t read my'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SjpuRSEjsOI/AAAAAAAABG4/l5l4S_Hk87k/s72-c/P6110040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-9051919451264271282</id><published>2009-06-17T16:02:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T16:24:19.032+08:00</updated><title type='text'>no reason to kill or die for</title><content type='html'>Semalam was the last session of bowling training for SMKSU's bowling club. My reign as president is pretty much over. How sad. How quickly it ended. Unfortunately, not many of them showed up. Even Tun who I always always play with. My 'superstar' Nehe who calls me his mentor (for some sick reason) pun sikda. Luckily for me, Gilbert, Wayne, and all (sorry la, I can't remember all they're names kay) came, loyal as ever! So I played with Jowen and later on with Arif.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sigh, I still have to organize a bowling tourney for next month, and then, it will be officially over. However, I will still go to support my Milo League teams. Yeah man, two teams! Woot woot!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Was not online yesterday night which was uhmahzing because, I am always online! I was too tired after bowling. I've kissed my stamina goodbye. After 4 games dah pancit. Are you kidding me? Used to play 17 games straight man, and still didn't break a sweat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So people haven't been making me pissed off in awhile. But yes, they've suddenly crossed the line. Dah lama I tak marah kan? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do not have a clue why you are giving almost everyone the silent treatment. Well, not everyone, but particularly me. As far as I am concerned, I did not have anything to do with you and your love life and what happened between you and him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes I love him, yes I am close to him, and yes, I've met his family from his grandmother, to his parents to his nephew, but no I do not, did not, nor will I ever have a crush on him. That's one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Two, never in these couple of months have I said a word to him instigating a non-peaceful aura between the two of you. Moreover, during those two months (which by the way, tak sampai dua bulan pun, imagine being in my shoes, for nine bloody months with an idiot) he did not even talk to me. Yeah hi and bye, that's it. We did not have any conversations like we used to have all the time, because he said he was too busy with you. He did not have time for me because all his time and energy (and hormones!) were dedicated to you. I was hurt, but what could I do? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the beginning, I admit I was against your relationship, but in time, I dealt with it and I moved on. Suka hati dia la, as long as he is happy. And by the looks of it, he was really delirious with you. What I don't understand was how or why it ended. I did not have anything to do with it. Furthermore I was away! And I did not even find out about the news from him, I heard it from someone else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So it doesn't make sense that you are giving me silent treatments and cold shoulders when, I did, &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;nothing&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mengapakaaaaaaaaah? Tak fahamnya! I swear this can give me a headache. He's like my brotherlah. But he is the kind of brother where I don't have much say in his actions because, he isn't my flesh and blood, and he isn't even mine! So tak payah la. Seriously? You're just, confusing me to be honest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-9051919451264271282?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/9051919451264271282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=9051919451264271282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/9051919451264271282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/9051919451264271282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/no-reason-to-kill-or-die-for.html' title='no reason to kill or die for'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1026145153431009791</id><published>2009-06-16T00:49:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T00:59:55.035+08:00</updated><title type='text'>you can go higher</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SjZ8N9YqyzI/AAAAAAAABGw/J7rdlyc7-to/s1600-h/IMG_8447.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SjZ8N9YqyzI/AAAAAAAABGw/J7rdlyc7-to/s320/IMG_8447.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347598186807216946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-large;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY ARNEYSIBOMBOM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, sekolah started tadi. It had a good start you know, with the new lights lighting up a fire with lots of smoke and the whole hall going completely pitch black, so yeah, it was good! What else, oh exam results. Not good, but not exactly bad either. Each and every result I got were ones I deserved. Padan muka! But I have 5 months to get cracking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I found my song for auditions yeay! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My life is boring, I don't have anything to talk about, but, tomorrow kena pergi alley :( But I wouldn't say it's &lt;i&gt;too &lt;/i&gt;boring. Frequent conversations I see, hmm! Me like.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1026145153431009791?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1026145153431009791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1026145153431009791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1026145153431009791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1026145153431009791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-can-go-higher.html' title='you can go higher'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SjZ8N9YqyzI/AAAAAAAABGw/J7rdlyc7-to/s72-c/IMG_8447.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-8416040215268713379</id><published>2009-06-14T02:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T18:01:52.929+08:00</updated><title type='text'>restaurant city</title><content type='html'>Holidays are over. Well isn't it so A-typical of me for not living each moment as it comes but simply wishing for better days after each and everyone of them passes? God. I can't believe tomorrow I will be waking up early for assembly, sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time around during the holidays, I shopped like no one's business. Seriously I disgust myself but I am kind've glad that I did spend money on things I actually like and will use. Usually, I'd be too stingy to splurge on anything above 50 bucks. Oh yeah man, 50 bucks is splurging to me. I am cheap like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth betold, I can't wait until school starts so I get off my ass and walk up the stairs a gazillion times a day, and walk here there and everywhere, because, all I've been doing is just sitting on my ass (naturally), and not moving a muscle. Even if I don't eat that much, I just bum around and it is taking effect on the numbers I see on the weighing scale. HELP. ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going bowling on Tuesday too! I have to drag my sorry butt to the alley. Joy. So not looking forward to it. But being pengerusi and all (which I am beginning to regret) I have to go. It's not all that bad, because I know someone NEW is going to be there on Tuesday, yeay I'm so excited. This is temporary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I am not looking forward to is my exam results. HOOO GOD, die la macam ni. Full blown studying ahead, choo choo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH AIMAN ARIF AND FAIZ ARE COMING DOWN FROM INDON! Okay, is it coming up or coming down? Whatever, but yeay, happy happy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And and and, er, OH, talent quest auditions are exactly in six days and I don't even know what song I'm singing. Or who my guitarist is :( DIE MACAM NI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This feeling is hitting me again! I think it's anxiety.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-8416040215268713379?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/8416040215268713379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=8416040215268713379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8416040215268713379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8416040215268713379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/restaurant-city.html' title='restaurant city'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6855601172323537847</id><published>2009-06-12T02:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T02:53:16.069+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hooo yea</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Guys are just plain pain aren't they?&lt;br /&gt;I don't miss falling in love  anymore,&lt;br /&gt;and i dont feel like going through it again.&lt;br /&gt;Dah muak. It always  hurts in the end.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;-Sara Aziz&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How random of me. But yes, I was going through my 'holy bible' and found that particular quote she had made. But yes it is true. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've decided not to have a boyfriend untill I finish college. So I will not have to deal with the awkward heart-breaking goodbye phase when I go overseas. And God only knows how much I hate goodbyes. I am not good at it at all. And long distance relationships? Lagi la worse. Emy said "Lama gila kot". Yes it is damn lama right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I know myself the way I think I know myself, I know I'll give in sooner than after I finish college. For sure okay, for sure. But I am also sure that in time my mature-ness level will elevate too (hopefully). Well it should. So I know I will be handling things alot better?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's fairly simple actually. Find a dude, who I can have a decent conversation over dinner with,  who is sensetive when he is ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yknow what, something came up, AAAAA EXCITED NYA! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;K bye!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Awww and we're talking about stars, how cute! Oh shit what did I just say? Damnit!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6855601172323537847?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6855601172323537847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6855601172323537847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6855601172323537847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6855601172323537847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/hooo-yea.html' title='Hooo yea'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-8388347558193850169</id><published>2009-06-10T11:28:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T11:43:36.052+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I love Thomas</title><content type='html'>Hello! I am going to Genting in a few ticks and I cannot remember the last time I was there.  Maybe it was when I was thirteen. A good four years ago. Oh well, I hope things &lt;i&gt;have &lt;/i&gt;changed.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;During my last visit, it was dull because I remember feeling like I've rode the rides too many times. Back then going to Genting was like going to Sunway Pyramid nowadays or something. Frequent! We're not staying there overnight but I wish we'd be able to catch the show with the tigers and stuff. We had VIP seats the last time and it was amazing because I got to shake hands with this hot hot hot stuntman (I had to say hot three times because he was just, hot). And and I think Adam is tall enough to go on rides so I will have a rollercoaster buddy since Anis is too much of a scaredy cat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I haven't been sleeping in my own bed for the past few days, I went from Anis' room, to Mammy's and to Anis' again. My aircond is still BROKEN because it has frozen up inside due to indescribable! No I'm just exaggerating. But yes,  my room used to be damn cold because the control to it is broken, so macam,  I cannot adjust it, so the aircond dude (haha) set it to the coldest temperature. GOOD FOR HIM! I love it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si8rt408QFI/AAAAAAAABGo/zjeWt2WgaCw/s1600-h/4661_89587248669_550868669_1713819_6743231_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si8rt408QFI/AAAAAAAABGo/zjeWt2WgaCw/s320/4661_89587248669_550868669_1713819_6743231_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345539350060613714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I attached my Thomas Sabo charm to my charm bracelet and it stands out! Well duh, particularly because it is 20 times more expensive than the rest, but I love all my charms. I don't want to give them up. The sad thing is that I forgot how much  I love charm bracelets since Emy went away.  But since she's coming home (NEXT WEEK!) I've begun to love them again, how cliche'd!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, will be away from internet connection for awhile as I'm gonna be at  Abah's so, auf vidersehn!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I cannot believe school will be starting soon, like wtf? But oh well, I am kind of excited for all the wrong reasons.. Miss please! Speaking of miss, I am going to miss Mammy and Daddy! I know my mum reads my blog so, laf yew!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh by the way, the feeling of crying for no reason is coming back each night. Go. Away. Pleasethankyoubye!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Be back in a jiffy !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-8388347558193850169?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/8388347558193850169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=8388347558193850169' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8388347558193850169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8388347558193850169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-love-thomas.html' title='I love Thomas'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si8rt408QFI/AAAAAAAABGo/zjeWt2WgaCw/s72-c/4661_89587248669_550868669_1713819_6743231_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-508909152194505149</id><published>2009-06-09T19:13:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T19:47:27.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You</title><content type='html'>I am making it a point to thank everyone who made my 17th very lively and happening (if I do say so myself) and ultimately making me a very happy seventeen year old who is going to be taking her SPM and her driver's license soon!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Firstly I have to thank both my &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Mammy &lt;/span&gt;and my &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt;Daddy &lt;/span&gt;for making the small party possible! Thanks for all the sweat that went into all the things Mammy cooked and Daddy's home-made Milo jelly! Without the effort I guess I would have just sleep all day being unproductive and uncelebraty-ish. And thanks to my sister &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt;Arneysibombom &lt;/span&gt;for letting me bully her the whole day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Aunties are amazing.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt; Aunty Yati&lt;/span&gt; made her infamous mee rebus and macaroni, one she hasn't made for 2 years and made some especially on my request. Meanwhile &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Dada &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC66CC;"&gt;Umi &lt;/span&gt;prepared all the other condiments to make food just perfect with Mammy's help. Thank you to Dada for the KACHING KACHING and Umi for the Apple Pie and upcoming KACHING KACHING!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to thank my little brother &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Adam &lt;/span&gt;for calling me and making my day, he sang me happy birthday (full version heehee) and promised me a dinner treat;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Um, Kak Aina, where do you want to have dinner? Cheap place! (*in the background* Ala, mummy use your money laa, I only have 500 &lt;i&gt;dollars&lt;/i&gt;, I don't want to use my money!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;AAAAAAAAAAA he is 10 times richer than me and he's so cute! He takes after me ofcourse :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks to my cousins (&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Lena, Nab, Aji, Shasha, Ain, Nash&lt;/span&gt;) for making my party very loud, weird and macam rumah nak runtuh because of all the commotion! A party would not be a party without you guys and we are all happy &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Bapi &lt;/span&gt;dah balik! Thanks to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Kak Jan&lt;/span&gt; for the amazing gift! &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Abang Azim&lt;/span&gt;, I  love the Thomas Sabo charm! Lalalove!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Leanne Victoria Sabrina De Silva&lt;/span&gt;, thank you for saving my life and buying me marshmellows and strawberries for the chocolate fountain! I owe you big time, and I will keep buying you chocolates from the Fidani Factory! And &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Einul Nadhira&lt;/span&gt;, a million kisses for the Norah Jones piano score book, it is AMAZING (and bloody susah), I love it! I love the both of you very MUCHO.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Abang&lt;/span&gt;! Thank you for the pretty cuppacakes you really made me feel like a girl because the cuppacakes were so sweet looking!! I really appreciate you going to Wondermilk just to get what I wanted and also for Mr O! I lerfoo! Thank you for bringing free entertainment, Mr  I-can-play-every-instrument-with-skills &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Seth&lt;/span&gt;! And please thank &lt;i&gt;Yaz, Kak Fie, Abang Boy and Adik Girl&lt;/i&gt; for me for signing my birthday card!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Thank you &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Aunty Put&lt;/span&gt; for the unexpected cuppacakes, they were the closest thing to Hello Kitty weren't they? Hihi!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks so much to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Mukri &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Tengku &lt;/span&gt;for making it! I miss you guys a lot especially during the holidays. MUAH! (And the BIGGEST sorry to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Hazim&lt;/span&gt;, I'M SORRY! I hope you still want to talk to me hihi)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Abang Jaa&lt;/span&gt; for bringing me presents all the way from Damansara after a long day of work! Presents with an 's' because there were two tshirts, an album, a notebook, a pen, pictures, and a guitar pick necklace innit. Danke! Will see you during Urbanscapes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All the texts, msn chats, phone calls and facebook/myspace comments I got truly touched me! There were so many, I was going bezzerk but I really made my birthday extra meaningful! I love getting unexpected wishes! I would name all of you, but I am afraid I'll leave anyone out and I wouldn't want to do that, but thank you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh an extra extra thank you for the phone call I got for &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC33CC;"&gt;Emy&lt;/span&gt;! Thank you for calling me while swinging round and round at a pole (kay that sounded wrong) late at night at Uni instead of staying warm inside studying. I miss you and I cannot wait till you get your butt back here to Malaysia with my present WEE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Words cannot describe how much I love all the people I just mentioned. Without you guys I am -nothing. Yes it is a little melodramatic but it is true. I am nothing without you guys!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si5KS-4nCCI/AAAAAAAABGg/6A6tv7IRmdY/s1600-h/Picture0610.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si5KS-4nCCI/AAAAAAAABGg/6A6tv7IRmdY/s320/Picture0610.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345291497713895458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;FLYING KISSES FOR ALL OF YOU HIHI&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;(PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE alert me if I did not mention you in this post when you know that you deserve a big ass thank you, so PLEASE tell me.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-508909152194505149?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/508909152194505149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=508909152194505149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/508909152194505149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/508909152194505149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/thank-you.html' title='Thank You'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si5KS-4nCCI/AAAAAAAABGg/6A6tv7IRmdY/s72-c/Picture0610.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-191599646850150655</id><published>2009-06-09T13:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T13:54:14.505+08:00</updated><title type='text'>17</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3xGtBdlFI/AAAAAAAABFI/UcjaNbJYQIc/s1600-h/hoho.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 320px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3xGtBdlFI/AAAAAAAABFI/UcjaNbJYQIc/s320/hoho.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345193430225884242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3xHIT9xHI/AAAAAAAABFY/3WsQ2yKHdUg/s1600-h/P6080586.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3xHIT9xHI/AAAAAAAABFY/3WsQ2yKHdUg/s320/P6080586.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345193437551248498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3xG1YFq1I/AAAAAAAABFQ/su3LyJv7k7g/s1600-h/P6080568.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3xG1YFq1I/AAAAAAAABFQ/su3LyJv7k7g/s320/P6080568.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345193432468269906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3xHKMcwUI/AAAAAAAABFg/GafIR2Z0cYw/s1600-h/P6080611.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3xHKMcwUI/AAAAAAAABFg/GafIR2Z0cYw/s320/P6080611.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345193438056595778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3yBiqzaJI/AAAAAAAABFw/RlbFV2Uj_tQ/s1600-h/P6080626.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3yBiqzaJI/AAAAAAAABFw/RlbFV2Uj_tQ/s320/P6080626.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345194441058773138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3yBNWrATI/AAAAAAAABFo/hW6WUY2Pn3Q/s1600-h/hoih.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 320px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3yBNWrATI/AAAAAAAABFo/hW6WUY2Pn3Q/s320/hoih.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345194435337191730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3yBjwID2I/AAAAAAAABF4/xFY4V_wZ4hU/s1600-h/P6080629.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3yBjwID2I/AAAAAAAABF4/xFY4V_wZ4hU/s320/P6080629.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345194441349533538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3yCMgm7tI/AAAAAAAABGA/7f9d-U7XKug/s1600-h/P6080638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: center;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3yCMgm7tI/AAAAAAAABGA/7f9d-U7XKug/s320/P6080638.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345194452290301650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3yCTflCII/AAAAAAAABGI/rVLFqMO_jbc/s320/P6080650.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345194454165031042" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Thank you post coming soon :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-191599646850150655?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/191599646850150655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=191599646850150655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/191599646850150655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/191599646850150655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/17.html' title='17'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Si3xGtBdlFI/AAAAAAAABFI/UcjaNbJYQIc/s72-c/hoho.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1581259769650105780</id><published>2009-06-07T16:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T16:08:22.341+08:00</updated><title type='text'>can see clearer now</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:24px;"&gt;I GOT MY NEW GLASSES YIPPEE YAI YAI WEEE HEE HEE !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:7;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:48px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sitz6Sv2VRI/AAAAAAAABEc/wdzUwRtnfvc/s1600-h/Picture0599.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sitz6Sv2VRI/AAAAAAAABEc/wdzUwRtnfvc/s320/Picture0599.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344492828107363602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, new glasses so I can see clearer being seventeen and all that shizz. Early birthday present, yeay thank you mammeh. Kay now I have Physics tuition, haih. Oh tak jadi keluar with Leanne today, she is as sick as. Kudos to her because she hasn't been sick in awhile, weird that. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BIRTHDAY TOMORROW YEAY! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sucks that almost everyone is out of town, sheesh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1581259769650105780?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1581259769650105780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1581259769650105780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1581259769650105780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1581259769650105780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/can-see-clearer-now.html' title='can see clearer now'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sitz6Sv2VRI/AAAAAAAABEc/wdzUwRtnfvc/s72-c/Picture0599.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-727852778240481910</id><published>2009-06-06T00:03:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T02:17:39.134+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ex boyfriend's best friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SilhNgHGLdI/AAAAAAAABEU/GVK53hMREhg/s1600-h/n788324844_990777_9755.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SilhNgHGLdI/AAAAAAAABEU/GVK53hMREhg/s320/n788324844_990777_9755.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343909317437697490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEANNE SABLEENA!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So I think it's been about, hmm lets see, seven years since I've known you? Dude, that is a freaking long time. Since we were eleven. And I cannot believe how long it took me to actually KNOW you, know you. It's so sad. Anyways, I love you, &lt;i&gt;no shet sherlock! &lt;/i&gt;See you Sunday :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SilCQvWipxI/AAAAAAAABD0/KMLrtmk7eAM/s1600-h/Picture0584.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SilCQvWipxI/AAAAAAAABD0/KMLrtmk7eAM/s320/Picture0584.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343875288208156434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;YAHOO ! I AM SO HAPPY I FINALLY HAVE IT !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(eventhough I've heard the songs too many times) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Long awaited album , and it's finally here in my hands. No I will not burn it and circulate it. And I will most definitely &lt;i&gt;not &lt;/i&gt;lend it to anybody. Support Zee, the amazing pint-sized singer with an old soul.  Amazing personality I might add. And hair to be envied of hihi. Oh her wardrobe too, I would LOVE her wardrobe. Come to think of it, I would like her voice, her wardrobe and her jet-setter life. That's simply over-reaching, Aina. I want her song-writing talent too. There is so many things I want, don't I? Atleast this album narrows down the things-I-want list. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm proud of you Zee!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SilIPgv0G9I/AAAAAAAABD8/mKwRCzLoufU/s1600-h/oo%3D.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SilIPgv0G9I/AAAAAAAABD8/mKwRCzLoufU/s1600-h/oo%3D.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 247px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SilIPgv0G9I/AAAAAAAABD8/mKwRCzLoufU/s320/oo%3D.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343881864177523666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(shit man, I need a new picture with Zee because this is the 3210329847th time I've used this picture in my posts)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-727852778240481910?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/727852778240481910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=727852778240481910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/727852778240481910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/727852778240481910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/ex-boyfriends-best-friend.html' title='ex boyfriend&apos;s best friend'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SilhNgHGLdI/AAAAAAAABEU/GVK53hMREhg/s72-c/n788324844_990777_9755.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-2562039322696050370</id><published>2009-06-05T16:42:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T16:56:28.800+08:00</updated><title type='text'>windows of the soul</title><content type='html'>I am waiting patiently for a phone call. No, it's not a phone call from a particular somebody I know. I'm waiting for a call from a stranger. I cannot wait to hear him whisper sweet words to me, saying "Your glasses are ready!", AAAA lambatnya!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is the problem with my eyes. I've been diagnosed with a lazy eye since I was three years old. It means that the eye muscles are disfunctinonal and my brain does not accept any impulses from my nerves. It just kind of, shuts off. And therefore, I do not have the ability to focus with my left eye. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been relying on my right eye all these years I've lived, but I am beginning to overuse and strain it. Glasses help, but it does not and will never correct my left eye. Moreover, there is no kind of surgery that could correct it. I wish they had the electric patches they use for my ligaments and tendons but instead, for my eyes.  To jolt my nerves and have them working. But that would probably fry my brain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lately after a lot of reading, and not to mention in a poor light condition (because I never got around to fixing the bulb during the previous exam period), my power's gone up. And I've got more serious astigmatism now. Sigh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To my amazement, the power is only 75 for both eyes, but yes,  I navigate myself through the right eye only. To the point where, I am too tired to focus both of my eyes, which leads to me not using my eyes anymore. I am beginning to view everything in my vision 'out-of-focus' voluntarily quite frequently lately. It makes me lazy and want to close my eyes so I don't have to use them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so I do. And now I sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-2562039322696050370?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/2562039322696050370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=2562039322696050370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2562039322696050370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2562039322696050370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/windows-of-soul.html' title='windows of the soul'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1135560257802859912</id><published>2009-06-05T02:36:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T03:19:45.299+08:00</updated><title type='text'>start spreading the news</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SigcL6cD2II/AAAAAAAABDM/dsj2agvjOBc/s1600-h/05117731_thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 204px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SigcL6cD2II/AAAAAAAABDM/dsj2agvjOBc/s320/05117731_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343551948866181250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SigcL0Rt0YI/AAAAAAAABDU/5JMtntOA9hI/s1600-h/79285001_thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 204px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SigcL0Rt0YI/AAAAAAAABDU/5JMtntOA9hI/s320/79285001_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343551947212181890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;+&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SigcxJfBU5I/AAAAAAAABDc/fNItb9hUHnM/s1600-h/22260401_thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);   white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:-webkit-monospace;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SigdvlWT3uI/AAAAAAAABDs/aIw5hMNbCkc/s1600-h/22260401_thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SigdvlWT3uI/AAAAAAAABDs/aIw5hMNbCkc/s320/22260401_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343553661191839458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;+&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SigdJbZO1iI/AAAAAAAABDk/CoAjRYCysv4/s320/18121719_thumb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343553005684708898" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;=&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY AINA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I could never find the right boyfriend shirt, haih. Or a bag with the right shade of blue.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And here comes the venting part.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that I've been upset with a number of people. And it is not bothering me anymore. Come to think of it, I have very valid reasons for being unhappy. I've questioned myself as to whether it is right to be upset, or not, about a million times. I've asked many people for unbiased opinions, and I've become content with my decision for just letting things be, and ultimately letting them go.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not the typical double-headed snake that pretends to be nice to someone when I don't want to be nice. I'd rather the situation seem not okay rather than perceiving it to be jolly and dandy. I do not pretend. What more when the situation involves people I love or loved.  I do not want to lie and be pretentious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the same time, I don't want to be a bitter person. I know I'll be okay over time, just do not rush me, and do not pester me. Because the truth is, time heals all things. It's just a simple matter of forgiving and forgetting right? Wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's easy to forgive, yes I'm sorry I've been selfish, and I'm sorry you've been selfish. I forgive you, because I forgive myself as well. But being sorry doesn't really fix anything does it? In the words of Hamlet, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;what's done is done&lt;/span&gt;. You can't turn back time. And it doesn't really matter if the situation can be fixed or not because I don't really care. But I have a really bad trait of not knowing how to forget. You should've known better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should've known much better than to have done something knowing what the consequences would be. The fault really is mine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've grown alot since last year, I'm different, and everyone's noticed. And I'm not sorry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1135560257802859912?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1135560257802859912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1135560257802859912' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1135560257802859912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1135560257802859912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/start-spreading-news.html' title='start spreading the news'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SigcL6cD2II/AAAAAAAABDM/dsj2agvjOBc/s72-c/05117731_thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6801358908368499843</id><published>2009-06-04T19:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T02:35:19.081+08:00</updated><title type='text'>dream a little dream of me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sif2sfjaIUI/AAAAAAAABDE/VgWZh4F_nSk/s1600-h/hooooooo.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 357px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sif2sfjaIUI/AAAAAAAABDE/VgWZh4F_nSk/s400/hooooooo.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343510727143072066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I know! I freak myself out too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I can't believe it's Friday already. How fast time flies. I must enjoy last bits of my holidays, because it's time to get cracking as soon as &lt;s&gt;this midterm break ends&lt;/s&gt; I spend time and pig-out with Emy. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I woke up early because Daddy knocked on my door to tell me that it is worth waking up in the morning, goodness gracious me. Didn't do much, but slept for and hour before Mr Thaves came. Yeah I had tuition today. Finally going to be up to speed with school's syllabus. Considering I only started with him in the middle of last year. We missed out six months of Add Maths okay! Went to Parade, picked Anis up, cooked with Mammy, ate dinner, waited for Abang, met Seth and Abang Boy, watched Transformers, talk to &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Berl &lt;/span&gt;(hihi) and yeah. And called some people I haven't talked to since early of last year. God my life is so, interesting ..not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;MUST BUY ZEE AVI CD TOMORROW. MUST MUST MUST. EXCITED NYAAAA!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gTkdsZcgOjQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gTkdsZcgOjQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper "I love you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Say nighty-night and kiss me, just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;While I'm alone, blue as can be, dream a little dream of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Stars fading but I linger on, dear, till craving your kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear, just saying this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Stars fading but I linger on, dear, still craving your kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear, just saying this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6801358908368499843?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6801358908368499843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6801358908368499843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6801358908368499843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6801358908368499843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/dream-little-dream-of-me.html' title='dream a little dream of me'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sif2sfjaIUI/AAAAAAAABDE/VgWZh4F_nSk/s72-c/hooooooo.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6517224642539249623</id><published>2009-06-03T20:12:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T11:37:47.680+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fish got to swim</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So Lagoon was -kind've like a let down haha! It was dull at first, especially when Einul and I got stuck in a pitch black slide (we thought that we were too heavy, but huge and I mean huge dudes with man boobs rode on it and they didn't get stuck, SO maybe we were too light, then kids 1/8 our sizes got stuck too, so I don't know what to conclude from it), and Einul panicked so I had to push the tube with my leg without falling on my face. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But later on we discovered Niagra Falls which was magically opened, so we went on it like a gazillion times and went on the roller coaster a gazillion times too. That made up for the dull-ness in the beginning. Good company though! And oh I saw my blast from the past, standard six ex boyfriend. He's got, a nice body hahaha! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sia1NfNkWMI/AAAAAAAABC0/DVyowQVLvbQ/s1600-h/l_f50eef1cd6d9331b17f0f78fe1606475.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sia1NfNkWMI/AAAAAAAABC0/DVyowQVLvbQ/s320/l_f50eef1cd6d9331b17f0f78fe1606475.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343157251243006146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sia1NkXS_TI/AAAAAAAABC8/jy6GHFOhzhw/s1600-h/n700957879_496022_2171.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sia1NkXS_TI/AAAAAAAABC8/jy6GHFOhzhw/s320/n700957879_496022_2171.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343157252625988914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Money is running low again, this &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cannot &lt;/span&gt;be happening, I was loaded yesterday, and now I am practically broke again, what the hell is wrong with me. Spendthrift is not good. Yeah Kevin, you and I, same page dude. Came back, makan and talked to Kevin on MSN. Haih, it's always good catching up with &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kamu&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BIRTHDAY'S ON MONDAY! Excited nya! I don't know what's innit for me this year. A birthday outing with Leanne, a simple makan-makan, cuppacakes from Einul (you offered hihi), video call with Emy and more money to shop! I'm sure lot's of people will be forgetting my birthday this year, but who knows, I might be wrong. I don't really care if 32412349173 people don't wish me, but I would care if there is ONE person I'd expect to remember, forgets. Ouch! Yeah Safri, can't believe you said my birthday's on your calender. I'm so touched! Call me! We pergi main basikal like we did when we were 11 and 12!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I. Am. So. In. The. Mood. For. Urbanscapes. Shoot man, I don't think I'd even have enough money for Urbanscapes. Leanne, segan la!  I am going to save up, so I will have enough money to raid the things they sell at Urbanscapes because I didn't get a chance to see or buy things there. I was so unprepared. Noob alert. Atleast now I have some idea. I need more clothes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of Urbanscapes I went around Pyramid and Parade looking for Zee's album but I couldn't find it, but each and every sales person I went to knew bits and pieces of Zee. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh we don't have her CD. Sarawakian, right?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh, we're getting the CD this Friday, eh where is she from, Brunei? And how did she ..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I felt like a Zee Avi promoter and a groupie. Is it obvious that I am such a big fan that people are asking me questions about her? What if I didn't know anything about her? HAH?! Well I am actually not complaining, I like it, and if was  her promoter, FOC!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Might not have a guitarist for Talent Quest, but I guess it's okay. If Hazim takde, Matt said okay. But if it's too short of a notice, I'll break a leg solo, so that I don't put any burden on anyone's shoulders.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6517224642539249623?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6517224642539249623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6517224642539249623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6517224642539249623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6517224642539249623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/fish-got-to-swim.html' title='fish got to swim'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sia1NfNkWMI/AAAAAAAABC0/DVyowQVLvbQ/s72-c/l_f50eef1cd6d9331b17f0f78fe1606475.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-8481748520561032611</id><published>2009-06-03T00:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T00:16:42.882+08:00</updated><title type='text'>you found me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiVOGd2_q2I/AAAAAAAABCs/CmD3Q4V8TJg/s1600-h/Picture0583.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiVOGd2_q2I/AAAAAAAABCs/CmD3Q4V8TJg/s320/Picture0583.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342762405946436450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yeay I finally got my wrap-around ! I've wanted this for a long time, but it was too expensive for yes, just two pieces of string with gold things stuck to it. So Anis got it for me for my birthday! Danke danke! The wrap-around can be used as a bracelet AND a necklace too! Three in one, happy jak kamek.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways today was a damn good and satisfying day. Went out, checked bank account which was magically filled again hehe (toche toche) and went SHOPPING. With an extra hundred from mammy as a pre birthday 'voucher' and yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bought two dresses. An indie-boho whatever dress and a shift dress. I haven't spent THIS much money on clothing at one go. Hihi. I don't really feel guilty. It's my birthday, I deserve some fun. Speaking of fun, tomorrow, no no, today, since it is already 12 am, I will be going to Lagoon to have some wet and wild experience.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kay that sounded wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even if it's JUST lagoon pun, it's a good place to let off some steam, and just be a kid for a day! So excited, and when in hell did lagoon get so expensive? Whatever la, crossing fingers and toes that it will be worth it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I vow to go on every single ride even if it makes me wanna wet my pants. Well if I survived Movie World's Lethal Weapon roller-coaster, I can go on anything. Coz NOTHING compares to that one -so far.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GOODNIGHT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Leanne Sableena, you did not text me :( Are you still alive or not? Lemme know !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-8481748520561032611?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/8481748520561032611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=8481748520561032611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8481748520561032611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8481748520561032611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/you-found-me.html' title='you found me'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiVOGd2_q2I/AAAAAAAABCs/CmD3Q4V8TJg/s72-c/Picture0583.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-193309204974306158</id><published>2009-06-02T02:17:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T02:52:05.955+08:00</updated><title type='text'>how to deal?</title><content type='html'>So what do you do when a relationship that seemed so perfect before is just crumbling more and more each day? What do you do when you don't feel like returning his phone calls, and listening to more of his problems, or replying him on MSN or via text message? What do you do when you find yourself wanting to take a break from him?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You'll feel like a bad friend. What has he done to you that you're feeling like so? Maybe, you feel like he's always competing with you. Whatever you can do, he can do better. Whatever you have done, he's about to do it again, three times more amazing than what you did. Maybe, you feel tired of his complaints and his ramblings. Everyday, it is his problems that are the biggest. Everyday, it is always how you are accused of not knowing how he feels. Maybe, you are feeling a little bit more than just lethargic of having to listen to every single one of his pessimistic opinions and negative remarks. Because sometimes, you just want to be around happy people that do not make you feel depressed. Happy people who get excited over RM29 red heels. People who appreciate little things in life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You should not feel this way after all he has done for you, after all the times he has been there for you. But what can you do, when being with him makes you feel depressed, angry and agitated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Depressed because it seems as if there is nothing you can do to help him, no colours or fairies to bright up his world no matter how much you try. And in the end he ends up saying that he has no one to look up to, and no one's shoulder to cry on. You feel depressed because you feel like a failure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Angry because he seems to think that he has the biggest problems in the world. Moreover, he wants everything you want. And how he is so different infront of this Tom, and that Dick and Harry, being a person-pleaser. Angry because he has somehow forgot the meaning of politeness like saying please or thank you, or simply being respectful to your parents. Even more angrier when he actually smiles when you tell him that someone you love just broke up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Agitated because he keeps competing with you. Even more agitated when he knows about something you like very much, but comes back to you with a story that makes you really jealous. It seems very immature and childish for you to do the same to something he adores. So you don't do it. It's reallyu difficult when he gives you remarks that make you feel like he has put a spell over that one thing that makes you a little more happier each day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It just doesn't seem right losing something so valuble over little things snowballed into a big emotional mess. How do you deal with it? Up until it came to the point where you don't worry about lost love anymore. Because you feel that it's simply &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;gone&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe you've just got to realize that, people outgrow each other. Maybe you've outgrown him. Maybe, he's just not right for you. Maybe, if it's too hard to have a civilized conversation without hurting each other and if it's too easy for him to hurt you, it's just not worth it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But maybe, you just have to confront it. But how? How do you approach confrontation, when you know confrontation is going to make matters worse for him? A confrontation will make him lose himself even more. A confrontation will lower his self-esteem drastically. You cannot do that to him. But you also cannot ruin yourself in the process of 'being the bigger person'. How to deal?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-193309204974306158?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/193309204974306158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=193309204974306158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/193309204974306158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/193309204974306158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-to-deal.html' title='how to deal?'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6900909715489039617</id><published>2009-06-01T16:35:00.014+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T23:54:34.229+08:00</updated><title type='text'>face on the wall</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Tagged by Esha. I love a good picture survey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;1. A picture of you at the most unique environment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOUK3ZksTI/AAAAAAAABBU/bhwqMzW23Ts/s1600-h/australia+036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOUK3ZksTI/AAAAAAAABBU/bhwqMzW23Ts/s320/australia+036.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342276497382355250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's Movie World! What other unique environment can you think of??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;2. A picture of somewhere you dislike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOUgN5C32I/AAAAAAAABBc/JNLbZWdBpMU/s1600-h/n563158275_682117_3230.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOUgN5C32I/AAAAAAAABBc/JNLbZWdBpMU/s320/n563158275_682117_3230.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342276864197189474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It was a good vacation, but it wasn't a good environment AT ALL (too many rude and scary transexual people)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;3. A picture of you with someone that means alot to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOXeKapxuI/AAAAAAAABBk/C2V9ts_QkuM/s1600-h/IMAGE_775.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOXeKapxuI/AAAAAAAABBk/C2V9ts_QkuM/s320/IMAGE_775.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342280127439554274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Because I just spent last night sleeping late realizing it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;4. A picture of you with your best smile (mouth open)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOktcD_m2I/AAAAAAAABBs/V3AkVSyS8jI/s1600-h/n1103679812_30152207_4380.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOktcD_m2I/AAAAAAAABBs/V3AkVSyS8jI/s320/n1103679812_30152207_4380.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342294683525552994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This is hard because I hardly smile with my teeth showing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;5. A picture of you with your best smile (mouth closed)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOldMmt2nI/AAAAAAAABB0/GlrJjH_b3xU/s1600-h/n700957879_1087506_5858.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOldMmt2nI/AAAAAAAABB0/GlrJjH_b3xU/s320/n700957879_1087506_5858.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342295504009943666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;For once, a presentable smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;6. A picture of you with your lamest pose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Give this picture a caption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOl-k0IvhI/AAAAAAAABB8/85XzLzaJ3SA/s1600-h/Picture0413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOl-k0IvhI/AAAAAAAABB8/85XzLzaJ3SA/s320/Picture0413.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342296077444365842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Look at me I'm so cute!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I cannot stand people who smile like this in pictures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;7. A picture of you with the person who stands at the top of your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOmoTaMr5I/AAAAAAAABCE/Gm15GlIbuWE/s1600-h/n563158275_942682_6821.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOmoTaMr5I/AAAAAAAABCE/Gm15GlIbuWE/s320/n563158275_942682_6821.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342296794326675346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;THE TOPPEST OF THE TOPPEST.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;8. A picture of you with some cute stuff or toy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What are you with ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOm0aOiM2I/AAAAAAAABCM/HQ7eNUTPGPo/s1600-h/n563158275_461297_2592.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOm0aOiM2I/AAAAAAAABCM/HQ7eNUTPGPo/s320/n563158275_461297_2592.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342297002315232098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I am with Madamme Ginger Butthead, no kidding!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;9. A picture of you with a white T-shirt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOnIYKsEcI/AAAAAAAABCU/aMBxNhWxRCU/s1600-h/j.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOnIYKsEcI/AAAAAAAABCU/aMBxNhWxRCU/s320/j.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342297345359614402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A white shirt counts too right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;10. A candid picture of you and your friend(s).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOoLJpLlwI/AAAAAAAABCk/7oB-7aJUFKk/s1600-h/P3120053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOoLJpLlwI/AAAAAAAABCk/7oB-7aJUFKk/s320/P3120053.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342298492512212738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;We always always find ways to collapse during school hours hihi.&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/2303426564741981920-6900909715489039617?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6900909715489039617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6900909715489039617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6900909715489039617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6900909715489039617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/face-on-wall.html' title='face on the wall'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiOUK3ZksTI/AAAAAAAABBU/bhwqMzW23Ts/s72-c/australia+036.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-198433851064470720</id><published>2009-06-01T01:40:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T02:34:24.186+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey June</title><content type='html'>I'm so bored, and I am not in the mood to sleep yet,  I want to talk about something, but I don't know what. Probably because the social life hasn't been as eventful as it was. It's funny as to how fickle I am. Perhaps it the timing of things which almost &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;always &lt;/span&gt;tend to not be right. When it is uneventful, it is really a bore, I can die of boredom, but when it is eventful, I can't even find time to take a breather -at all. So I don't know what I want.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe, just maybe, I am finally at that age where all I want to do is go out. But I really can't because going out leads to the problem of figuring out what to wear and eventually getting upset of having nothing to wear. Although, when one finally has enough money to buy something new, one does. But the problem is, few days later, I will sit in a corner and ponder as to where all my money have gone.Then I remember, "OH, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;dress" which probably does not look that much flattering on me anyhow (as clothes tend to look better when you're trying it on in dressing rooms).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it's not so much of the going out. I know it's about putting on pretty clothes on my back and just wandering around aimlessly getting lost with someone. I don't really know who I want to get lost with right now, because the thing is they are either caught up with their own lives, very very far away and busy, or they've changed into someone I know I didn't ever picture myself being with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's June already. HAPPY JUNE! Yeay my birthday is in 7 days. But the fact that it is June already scares the hell out of me. I know it's time to get cracking, time to get serious. And I will because lately, sejarah facts and bio facts keep popping into my head one, by one, by one (which scares me even more!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, if I had to choose who I'd want to go out with right now, it'd be my mum. But we both MUST be in a good mood, a good shopping mood and our bank accounts must be good moods too! Then we'd have a good time. I am such a family girl. I know! Maybe because I know I will be spreading my wings soon? Haha! Although I know I won't be spreading my wings that drastically. Slowly slowly?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, I don't know why the pain of those infamous nine months is beginning to kick in a little harder. I think of it a little too much than I should, I've been to places flooded with memories more than thrice this week, and the people around me, have not been helping. Maybe it's because he's going away tomorrow. I feel like such a scum for even feeling this way. I should know that I deserve so much better. What I got was like, horrible. The worst kind of tremendously terrible experience I ever had to go through. But hey, I made a choice. And in the end I made another choice that I know is for the better, but did not know that these 'feelings' would kick in little by little. I didn't know that they were going to kick in at all! I'm so tired of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I very well know why that is so. I never had the chance to say what I wanted to say. I never got anything off my chest. I never did anything satisfactory. And the fact that people have been making it worse, is well yes, making it worse. I will never forgive myself for trusting other people who I knew should not be trusted. Already knowing what my actions would result in makes it even more frustrating. Simply because it HAS happened before. And it still did not stop me from opening my big mouth -untill now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh well, other people out there are dealing with more serious stuff than me! I should be thankful, for like, having given a brain to think and a heart to feel. Because some people, just don't have a brain or a heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to do something fun, really soon. Happy thoughts happy thoughts happy thoughts. (MONEY + NEW CLOTHES + BIRTHDAY PRESENTS  = HAPPY ME)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiLNNZsrtnI/AAAAAAAABBM/EDKXKbgX7Jk/s1600-h/P3200162.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiLNNZsrtnI/AAAAAAAABBM/EDKXKbgX7Jk/s400/P3200162.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342057738135123570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiLNM4H8p3I/AAAAAAAABBE/cOn995zSd2I/s1600-h/P5120472.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 310px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiLNM4H8p3I/AAAAAAAABBE/cOn995zSd2I/s400/P5120472.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342057729122674546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OKAY THAT REMINDS ME, I need to figure out what I want, because I don't know what I want. Any suggestions for a seventeenth birthday present?Besides a car because that is out of the question.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-198433851064470720?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/198433851064470720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=198433851064470720' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/198433851064470720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/198433851064470720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/06/hey-june.html' title='Hey June'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/SiLNNZsrtnI/AAAAAAAABBM/EDKXKbgX7Jk/s72-c/P3200162.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-4468328878011890356</id><published>2009-05-30T00:29:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T14:46:06.098+08:00</updated><title type='text'>and I crinkle my nose</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre-wrap; font-family:-webkit-monospace;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sh-yqgfKpkI/AAAAAAAABA8/EuPwFFhleLY/s1600-h/P5290551.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 315px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sh-yqgfKpkI/AAAAAAAABA8/EuPwFFhleLY/s400/P5290551.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341184126429603394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just got back from pyramid from watching aliens vs monsters or whatever shit it was haha! I thought it would be all cool and stuff since it was 3D. Turns out, the 3D part was only at the beginninng. And the glasses were giving my a headache. And I almost fell asleep during the movie. Patutla Teha gave me that wtf face when I told her I was going to go watch whatever. Haha, Teha you were right, and no 3D wasn't cool at all ! HARRY POTTER IN JULY! Must watch at GSC signature weeeheee. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe that it will be June on Monday. What the hell have I been doing these past five months because I think that I've missed every single day of it. No seriously, what did I do because I can't recall anything (except for camp). Mana pergi all my memories? Tak jumpa! How sad.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And this is where, my blog comes in handy. Lets see, what did I do in January. Oh January had bloody sixty six posts. It's like two posts per day. What the hell is wrong with me? I was literally blogging everytime I didn't have anything to do. Basically it was all about tuition and stuff, and SPM and feelings, feelings and more feelings. Oh January was the month we made alot of cupcakes! February was the whole I-am-feeling-sad-and-depressed-because-my-best-friend-went-very-far-away phase. March was all about exams and CAMP! April was about bowling, and May is about exams, late studying hours, and thats all. WOW, my life is so interesting,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need to get my blogging mojo of general issues instead of what I did and stuff. It's a bit dull don't you think? But nyeh, oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just sitting here listening to Bubbly over and over again and feeling really mellow and all that jazz because Bubbly signifies alot of things that happened before. I miss last year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll get even more emotional if Like A Star comes on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know, I wish that you would go back to Aussie, so you could call me everyday before, during and after a meal, when you wake up and before you go to bed. So that, that ringtone will go off every 3 hours when you call. I really miss you. And I know I'm not alone, quite a number of us miss you aswell. God knows how much I crave those phone calls. Especially during times like these. I need those Spice Girls vocals of yours. Stat :'(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dearie me, where did I learn how to whine like this? Oh from me, heh. Atleast, that smile I got today will last me for a full two weeks of school holidays.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HOLIDAYS ARE HERE! WHAT TO DO WHAT TO DO WHAT TO DO!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Save money so that I have enough untill Emy comes home&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Fix 10AUD electric blue pump shoes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Learn second part of Fur Elise by Beethoven&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Finish My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Go to Lagoon with cousins&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Spend time with Adam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Have jam sessions with Hazim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. Sleep my heart out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. HAVE A GREAT SEVENTEENTH&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. Get use to singing infront of crowds, ie; at family gatherings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11. Stop being confused of my tenses&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the list goes on?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My horoscope says that I will be a meeting a guy on the 21st of June, and though he is from another school, I should definitely make an effort to ask for his number, because it may result in an amazing relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Funny that Talent Quest auditions are on the 21st as well, with kids coming from schools all over Selangor to participate. INTERESTING, VERY INTERESTING. But I don't want to like another guy, I just want THAT one. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Such a paradox, isn't it, isn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e7dce477e97cf0c0" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De7dce477e97cf0c0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331656790%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D525B4A5928BDEAB459BB578411D45136CE24E83.695BF9EC8B11E56FED023ECEE8D37519D8F8654F%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De7dce477e97cf0c0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DbT2ZMN0GB1t2dxEu1_ejxys9AzQ&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De7dce477e97cf0c0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331656790%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D525B4A5928BDEAB459BB578411D45136CE24E83.695BF9EC8B11E56FED023ECEE8D37519D8F8654F%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De7dce477e97cf0c0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DbT2ZMN0GB1t2dxEu1_ejxys9AzQ&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-4468328878011890356?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e7dce477e97cf0c0&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/4468328878011890356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=4468328878011890356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4468328878011890356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4468328878011890356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/and-i-crinkle-my-nose.html' title='and I crinkle my nose'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sh-yqgfKpkI/AAAAAAAABA8/EuPwFFhleLY/s72-c/P5290551.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-5122659656858844979</id><published>2009-05-29T00:32:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T00:46:54.124+08:00</updated><title type='text'>29th</title><content type='html'>It's the 29th of May. Okay I didn't know it would be THIS significant!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1st significance- Zee Avi's album is FINALLY launched in Malaysia! Yes yes yes! But the downside is that I have absolutely no money at all. I guessI'll just have to wait untill Monday. Unless ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2nd significance- Happy 17th Birthday Ema! I feel bad because I have so many number's in my phone under the name Ema, I tak tau which one's yours haha! When it comes to my birthday, you're always the one wishing me at 12 am sharp, every single year without fail. I love you Ema! Deca Ten! (Ema, come to think of it, Deca Ten made banyak benda happen right? Haha!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3rd significance- My first singing performance in 2009, my second performance in 2009, my fourth singing performance in two years, and my eighth performance in two years. You might say , pfft, tak sampai ten pun. But what the hey, EIGHTH man EIGHT. Oh, first time singing with a band!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so nervous I feel like my heart is going to drop out of my butt. I really really hope that I'll remember the lyrics. Since I've only begun to get familiar with this song about two ticks ago. Cameras will be around tomorrow so I hope someone will be kind enough to tape it for me, or take pictures of it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;EXAMS ARE OVER, wow I was so busy today I hardly even noticed. Had four papers today, Bio sucked but Mod Maths was good. Physics was okay? Then I had rehearsals untill 4 30pm, after which I got home and started on my Add Maths projects which is dued today. I couldn't do it earlier due to heavy studying. I finally finished the project at 11 pm. And now its 12 41 am, baru nak settle down after an hour of memorizing and singing Letters from Janelle for about the hundreth time today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My daddy is so nice for sticking up with my stressed-up bitchy-self. Heck even I was annoyed with myself. How did that happen? Oh and Mammy cooked meatballs today, yum! Okay so random. Hmm, tomorrow's Teacher's Day. My last Teacher's Day! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"THERE HE IS !"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*points at him, he looks up, smiling*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"OH SHIT HE'S LOOKING STRAIGHT AT ME HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Smoooooooth. Pfft. Epic!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-5122659656858844979?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/5122659656858844979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=5122659656858844979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5122659656858844979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5122659656858844979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/29th.html' title='29th'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-5288317769763159405</id><published>2009-05-27T17:06:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T00:02:52.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sing sing sing</title><content type='html'>I am in a dilemma. You see I wanted to perform for Hari Guru, but I didn't have time to make it to the auditions. Ofcourse I want to perform, it's my last year, and my last Hari Guru. So Anen asked me for a favour because they're vocalist is on his trip to Makkah, so they don't have a vocalist for Friday. Yep, he wants me to sing. I was so delighted. Like, gila bangga right? And yes, I said yes.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I am in a dilemma. I'm afraid that I cannot perform these songs very well because they're very high. Really high compared to what I'm used to performing. Oh well, the way I see it, I could just let this oppurtunity slide, and wait for another chance that probably won't be coming again anytime soon, or I could just grab it, and go with the flow! Well I certainly hope that the performance won't blow! Weh, I just made two lines that rhyme with each other! I'm cool nigga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The songs are a tad bit difficult to learn. All in one day pulak tu. Practice is tomorrow with the whole band, and currently, I only remember, the first two lines of the song. Not to mention Mod Maths, Bio and Physics tomorrow. Haih. Okay let's not waste time and try these songs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;[edit]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hokay, it is 11 58 and I have about 13 more hours to freedom! After which I will have to have my first ever band practice, with yeah the band. I've never performed with a group of dudes before! With a group of dudettes pun tak pernah. I've always gone solo. Oh well, there's always a first time. And if I remember correctly, usually, the hall would be filled during Hari Guru. God help me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GOOD GOD I CANNOT MASTER THESE SONGS AT ALL. Oh well, I need to work my comprimising charms to get them to agree to performing atleast one song that I am familiar with, so that I won't make a fool out of myself! Hihi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yo I don't even know the name of Anen's band! Homigosh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In exactly 5 hours, I will be waking up early for the last time. Untill trials come that is. Atleast the last time for this month. Hah, go Aina go! For one more day. I should really finish the book For One More Day by Mitch Albom. It was on Hallmark but I fell asleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay GOODNIGHT world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-5288317769763159405?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/5288317769763159405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=5288317769763159405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5288317769763159405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5288317769763159405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/sing-sing-sing.html' title='sing sing sing'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-2892104361999901658</id><published>2009-05-25T19:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T19:39:28.574+08:00</updated><title type='text'>this is more like it</title><content type='html'>Agama was. Interesting. You know it's those kind of papers, where if you know the answer you really know it, but when you don't know it you don't know it at all? Yeah it's that one. Plus there were more than two subtopics that made surprise appearances. Come on, Haji is a big subtopic! I wouldn't have even thought about reading if you did not tell me that it was coming out! But I guess it's okay.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One thing that was not and is not okay? My eyesight! I swear it's going, going, not gone yet, but will be gone if I don't do something about it. It's getting harder harder for them to focus. My eye muscles are not working. Due to my lazy left eye, I cannot see shiz with it. My muscles in that particular eye are not working, at all. So, I depend on my right eye. And with too much reading, I know I've been straining it. God knows how hard it was to answer my paper just now. Me need new glasses. Or an eye operation. Whatever works! Hihi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, tadi I set my alarm clock at 4 45 pm after falling asleep at 3 15 pm so I can wake up and study my BM, but, hehe I snoozed it untill a half hour later. And then, when it went off again, I slept untill six thirty or something like that. Haha! So much for studying komsas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of which, I should really start on it now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lately, many people have been hiding stuff from me, and talking about me behind my back or telling other people what I said about them when they know perfectly that it was strictly confidential, pestering me to tell me things I do not want to tell them, so on and so forth. Seriously, what's the deal? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you want to hide stuff from me, hide them well, so that I won't find out, be smart about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you want to talk behind my back, do not pretend to be nice to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you want to tell other people things I said about them without my consent, don't tell me that you did, because it just hurts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you want me to tell you things, you shouldn't have been such a blabbermouth in the first place now would you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wake up and smell the coffee! I don't have time for all this. Neither do I have time to fix it. Lagi lagi when I know it's not worth fixing. Fixing it will make it okay for two weeks, and it'll just go downhill the week after.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot wait for exams to be over and done with so I can have my two week holiday! So many things I want to do and buy and eat. OH EMY'S COMING HOME, I need to save money for sushi. Alot, and I mean alot of sushi geeheehee! Oh and I will make sure that I have enough jamming sessions with Hazim for Talent Quest. I'm having doubts about entering it, but hey what the hell, for fun kan? Hm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay laa, komsas time. Bye!&lt;/div&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShqC4D_biFI/AAAAAAAABAY/BItbnH1azqg/s1600-h/tv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShqC4D_biFI/AAAAAAAABAY/BItbnH1azqg/s320/tv.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339724207856781394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If this happens, I swear I would just roll over and die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-2892104361999901658?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/2892104361999901658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=2892104361999901658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2892104361999901658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2892104361999901658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/this-is-more-like-it.html' title='this is more like it'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShqC4D_biFI/AAAAAAAABAY/BItbnH1azqg/s72-c/tv.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-8585089217054932629</id><published>2009-05-25T06:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T07:02:44.873+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a pouring-out-heart post tak jadi</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;..because takda time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's 6:50 AM yo, Guten Morgan! You know, it doesn't help that my alarm ringtone is by Jack Johnson, Banana Pancakes "...waking up too early, maybe you should sleep, I'll make you banana pancakes, lets pretend like it's the weekends now..." not helping!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hah, I really should go down and drink my Belgian Chocolate drink. Now that I typed it out, it sounds expensive, when the reality is that it is only two ringgit. I bought three caffeinated drinks, which I was hoping that it'd last till atleast Wednesday. But this would be my second can since yesterday night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Agama paper in about an hour and six minutes. Haih. I seriously have to get an A. I can't believe I got a C the last time! As weird as this may sound, I never get anything &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;but &lt;/span&gt;A for agama. Not to brag or anything but it's true! It's like my forte. But I doubt I'll get an A this time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did not study shiz on Friday or Saturday. And as for yesterday, I went out the whole day! Went to this hutan restaurant that ended up as a let down, went to Parade to get prezzies for Aunty Yati, came home, Kak Lina and Aji came, I slept and got ready to go out again for Aunty Yati's er, wait I don't even know how old she is, punya Birthday! Had a good time playing with Sophie and watching the repeat of American Idol finale.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And and and I wonder if my nephew is born yet, mhmm. I feel so old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Three more days, ten thousand more papers to go. Except this time, I'll be having atleast three different subjects per day. Now that is awesome. Can't wait for Thursday. Yum!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-8585089217054932629?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/8585089217054932629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=8585089217054932629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8585089217054932629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8585089217054932629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/pouring-out-heart-post-tak-jadi.html' title='a pouring-out-heart post tak jadi'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1791822019919652952</id><published>2009-05-24T00:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T00:56:14.045+08:00</updated><title type='text'>clarinet a la king</title><content type='html'>Hullo! I just got back from the Gardens with the Brady bunch. I haven't been out (or so it feels like) since forever. I thought I would be stuck at home again this weekend, you know, studying agama (of which I am so screwed for) but instead, we watched the sequel to Night at the Museum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved it! I think I was the loudest in the cinema. It's definitely better than the first one. The pleasure of a night out with nothing but luxury! New clothes, new shoes.. Well, that's not really the luxury part! Went to Gold Class second time around! Harharhar! Some people I do know out there watch movies with Gold Class tickets &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;only&lt;/span&gt;.. But this is only my second time, and I like it that way yknow? So there is some significance left to it! Kalau tak, it'd be a tad bit dull, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I got a Gold Class ticket was to James Bond. I don't know if the seats were too comfy, or I was ignorant of the greatness and the big hoo-haa of James Bond, but either way, I fell asleep. HAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of sleep, I haven't been able to remember my dreams lately. That sucks. Because sometimes I'd know that I just dreamt of something really good, but I'm not able to remember it! It's so frustrating. That is pretty much common to everybody. However, the vivid dreams I have normally mean something alot more. The last dream I remember was about 2 days ago. I dreamt of my late uncle. He was treating us to dinner, and he didn't speak. But he was just there, looking at me, without saying a single word. He looked different, but seemed as though he was living luxuriously! Maybe it's a way for him to tell me that he's doing great up there. I really miss him, and our funfair trips.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a lighter note, I found this picture! This is the hanging bridge we crossed at Dusun Eco Resort! I was burning on the bridge, it was bloody hot. Was singing the whole way to distract myself haha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShgpIH2EJlI/AAAAAAAABAQ/jWo5Yij4snA/s1600-h/IMG_0999.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShgpIH2EJlI/AAAAAAAABAQ/jWo5Yij4snA/s320/IMG_0999.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339062577769227858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pretty picture by the way! I found it on Esha's Uncle's blog! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Okay lah, goodnight sweetums!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1791822019919652952?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1791822019919652952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1791822019919652952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1791822019919652952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1791822019919652952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/clarinet-la-king.html' title='clarinet a la king'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShgpIH2EJlI/AAAAAAAABAQ/jWo5Yij4snA/s72-c/IMG_0999.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-391682722102807100</id><published>2009-05-23T00:49:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T01:35:46.818+08:00</updated><title type='text'>principles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShbgyWPYUpI/AAAAAAAABAA/t3O9-PEynCM/s1600-h/n563158275_344831_4159.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShbgyWPYUpI/AAAAAAAABAA/t3O9-PEynCM/s320/n563158275_344831_4159.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338701563862471314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;EPIC PICTURE I FOUND OF ESHA AND I ON FACEBOOK ! HAHA ! We were eleven :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was browsing through my facebook profile (yes well, how lame) and then I clicked on my videos to re-watch them, and there it was, the &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1133370575367&amp;amp;subj=700957879"&gt;Leadership camp video! &lt;/a&gt; Click the link to watch it. I am the one crammed between Jowen and Dheepan. Okay that doesn't help. At some point of the video, the videographer (Mr Firdaus) will zoom-in to a girl in a light blue tshirt. And yes that's me! I miss camp. However when I was at camp I couldn't wait for it to be over. That was until I went for jungle-trekking (ehehehehe).&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow, I just got off the phone with Adruce. My budak kecik called me for an hour! "It hurts me to see you in pain, and makes me realize that I'd do anything to protect you". Harharhar! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh Physics paper was awesome k. It was so annoying. Everything EASY came out so of course I tak baca. Like pressure and heat. And I have come to a conclusion that the principle a magnet moving towards a solenoid, has the same principle as guys. When a magnet is moved towards the solenoid, the pole of the magnet will be equivilent to the end of the solenoid coil, causing the magnet and the solenoid to repel each toher. You know, when you want them they push you away, Whereas, when the magnet is moved away from the solenoid, the end of the solenoid coil will be the opposite of the magnet pole and attract the magnet. You know, when you move on, they want you back. I cannot believe that this sort of principal is being applied in Physics!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I bought a dress! God knows how long I've been not buying anything above a hundred bucks. Budget la konon, but I'll be stuck in a rut with no money and no clothes seeing as I used all my money at Diva, buying stuff I never use. So, hehe, yeay I'm so excited HIHI. Plus mammy bought new two pairs of new shoes of which she is sharing! Double whammy! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And what do you know, today is the last of paper 2 and paper 3 sets of questions! Yeay! One more week. Breathe in. Breathe out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShbgyLB8VfI/AAAAAAAAA_4/mUdJSUF-6ME/s1600-h/3368412666_3e8d436602.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShbgyLB8VfI/AAAAAAAAA_4/mUdJSUF-6ME/s320/3368412666_3e8d436602.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338701560853321202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;ALBUM'S COMING OUT 29TH OF MAY! YEEHEEHOOHOOWHEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-391682722102807100?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/391682722102807100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=391682722102807100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/391682722102807100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/391682722102807100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/principals.html' title='principles'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShbgyWPYUpI/AAAAAAAABAA/t3O9-PEynCM/s72-c/n563158275_344831_4159.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6446195044004923230</id><published>2009-05-21T15:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T15:48:09.295+08:00</updated><title type='text'>piasecki</title><content type='html'>Today was a good day! I really shouldn't speak too soon because it's not over yet, but &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;still &lt;/span&gt;it has been good so far! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was suppose to wake up at 5 30 this morning to study my Mod Maths, but I ended up sleeping until about an hour later. Hehe! Since the paper was only after recess, I figured that I'd have alot of time to revise before then, and yeah too right I was. I even had enough time to sleep for about half an hour on my table, until Akmal (whose always sitting behind me) started his usual not to mention annoying tap-feet-against-floor-alot-of-times ritual. So I terbangun. Just in time for rehat hihi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the Form Four's are officially free from midterms today and I'm so jealous! I have 5 more days to go, and God knows if I'll be rolled over and dead by then, who knows. I reckon that I'd be dead-er than dead because of Physics. I have started absolutely &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;nothing &lt;/span&gt;on it, and this is the only paper where Puan Noorliah refuses to tell us what chapters are coming out for paper 3. And unfortunately for us, we all have the same Physics teacher, so we can't ask the Deltas like we normally do :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sleepy. Sheesh, six hours of sleep is still not enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6446195044004923230?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6446195044004923230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6446195044004923230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6446195044004923230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6446195044004923230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/piasecki.html' title='piasecki'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-4635325098191138310</id><published>2009-05-20T21:19:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T21:41:06.755+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ain't my fault</title><content type='html'>Countdown - 33 more days *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, if you want to be fair, be fair on your own terms. Don't be fair and let other people suffer the consequences. By being fair, you are actually jeopardizing me. From now on, I don't want to know anything. And I don't even want to say anything. Silence is golden isn't it, and ignorance is bliss! Shutting up is better than having to explain. I have to stop telling people stuff that will put me in harm's way. I'm tired. I just want to be, AWFULLY happy that I can't stand being happy anymore.. So please, I don't know what you're trying to do, but it's making things worse, just when I thought it couldn't get any worse. Why the hell does it still hurt? I guess nothing really goes away, THAT soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mod maths tomorrow! It's almost Friday! And I'm so happy! Why am I this happy? Well I'm not even close to being AWFULLY happy, but I am excited. Mek dah lama sik jumpak kitak. Hihi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShQHVOTFU5I/AAAAAAAAA_Y/0N4FoFpJ37w/s1600-h/Picture0472.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShQHVOTFU5I/AAAAAAAAA_Y/0N4FoFpJ37w/s320/Picture0472.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337899519537664914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been talking to Emy that much, I miss you laaaa! ONE MORE MONTH !!&lt;br /&gt;* countdown till Emy comes home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShQHVfL5zfI/AAAAAAAAA_g/IMjnNZ39xDY/s1600-h/Picture0401.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShQHVfL5zfI/AAAAAAAAA_g/IMjnNZ39xDY/s320/Picture0401.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337899524070952434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excuse my retarded face. I kinda miss my hair and my bangs like this. Hmm :/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-4635325098191138310?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/4635325098191138310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=4635325098191138310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4635325098191138310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/4635325098191138310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/aint-my-fault.html' title='ain&apos;t my fault'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShQHVOTFU5I/AAAAAAAAA_Y/0N4FoFpJ37w/s72-c/Picture0472.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1986935689745197614</id><published>2009-05-20T05:33:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T15:45:41.623+08:00</updated><title type='text'>VENT</title><content type='html'>It's so stupid that you cannot come to terms with things, and say stuff like "Oh, aku dengar Aina banyak kutuk aku skarang" Well, hello, you deserve it! Even if I did or do kutuk you, what's it to you anyway? You never cared about anything I did, so why do you care now? And yeah the so-called relationship that you are in and want so much, is so, non-existent, but you pretend like it is so everlasting and true, despite the fact that you really do not know what is going on. And if you remember, I've never ever bad-mouthed her infront of you because I know how much she means to you. And she knows that I was angry with her, don't you know that? You're the one who is so out dated. Maybe you guys are just setting me up, I don't know, but I highly doubt so. Bad-mouthing you is the least I could do considering whatever that you have done to me. Bad-mouthing is like a minute ant compared to all the things you put me through. You're such an asshole, open your eyes and see things properly. Have a heart, I heard that it is important. Even animals have hearts. You are simply heartless. And yeah seriously, you don't have to worry about me befriending them, because they went through the same thing as me. I don't know how many of them were going through the same thing, but I betcha haven't heard about karma. What goes around comes around. God knows just how many of us you've hurt. But you still don't see how you could've hurt me. That's the sad part. It makes it even harder knowing that there were many others. And I know, even right now, when you're out there trying to retrieve your undying love for one person, you're still keep other girls under your wing just so you have back ups. And you're so proud of it. Grow up.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay I just needed to get that out of my system! Chemistry time, BYE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1986935689745197614?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1986935689745197614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1986935689745197614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1986935689745197614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1986935689745197614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/vent.html' title='VENT'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-508661243602859535</id><published>2009-05-19T16:30:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T16:45:32.598+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sugar orchids</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShJvykaqq7I/AAAAAAAAA_M/bdXVH2QmW70/s1600-h/Tahir+%26+Adlina+Wedding+047+-+IMG_1647.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 182px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShJvykaqq7I/AAAAAAAAA_M/bdXVH2QmW70/s320/Tahir+%26+Adlina+Wedding+047+-+IMG_1647.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337451422947126194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tariq and Adlina &lt;/span&gt;(Who gave me RM 20 worth of puny little cake!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShJvySVohhI/AAAAAAAAA_E/h7AbA6QKj-c/s1600-h/Tahir+%26+Adlina+Wedding+014+-+IMG_1474.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShJvySVohhI/AAAAAAAAA_E/h7AbA6QKj-c/s320/Tahir+%26+Adlina+Wedding+014+-+IMG_1474.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337451418094175762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Flower's by As You Like It&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShJvyd8_n0I/AAAAAAAAA-8/XI8IrFY17IU/s1600-h/Tahir+%26+Adlina+Wedding+026+-+IMG_1554.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShJvyd8_n0I/AAAAAAAAA-8/XI8IrFY17IU/s320/Tahir+%26+Adlina+Wedding+026+-+IMG_1554.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337451421212057410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;VIP Wedding Favour and menu by Lynette and Perfect Day Planner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShJvyNxlmHI/AAAAAAAAA-0/JyBf-JTzOL4/s1600-h/Tahir+%26+Adlina+Wedding+015+-+IMG_1478.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShJvyNxlmHI/AAAAAAAAA-0/JyBf-JTzOL4/s320/Tahir+%26+Adlina+Wedding+015+-+IMG_1478.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337451416869247090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Table Centerpiece, Menu and Wedding Favour by Perfect Day Planner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShJvxz6U_yI/AAAAAAAAA-s/2-xG3JY6EH4/s1600-h/Tahir+%26+Adlina+Wedding+010+-+IMG_1452.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShJvxz6U_yI/AAAAAAAAA-s/2-xG3JY6EH4/s320/Tahir+%26+Adlina+Wedding+010+-+IMG_1452.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337451409926586146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chocolate Cake with Strawberry Filling by Lynette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Coordination and sourcing : Ratna Rashidi, http://www.pdplanner.wordpress.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;She's my mammy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Photos by : Aaron Ho, http://www.cincauhangus.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He's my friend!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm so intimidated by talented people around me. Haha! Okay bye! And yeah, sejarah sucked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-508661243602859535?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/508661243602859535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=508661243602859535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/508661243602859535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/508661243602859535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/sugar-orchids.html' title='sugar orchids'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShJvykaqq7I/AAAAAAAAA_M/bdXVH2QmW70/s72-c/Tahir+%26+Adlina+Wedding+047+-+IMG_1647.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-8316407903140274969</id><published>2009-05-18T13:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T13:51:53.771+08:00</updated><title type='text'>owlowl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShD2dMnencI/AAAAAAAAA-k/nHmcB4XVKX4/s1600-h/HOHO.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 245px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShD2dMnencI/AAAAAAAAA-k/nHmcB4XVKX4/s400/HOHO.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337036539897486786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm starting to wonder if we're crazy. 1:02 am, 5:33 am, 6:28 am. I can't call us owls, because owls don't wake up during daylight. On the other hand, we're up when its dark, and when there's light. Yeah, we're crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-8316407903140274969?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/8316407903140274969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=8316407903140274969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8316407903140274969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/8316407903140274969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/owlowl.html' title='owlowl'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/ShD2dMnencI/AAAAAAAAA-k/nHmcB4XVKX4/s72-c/HOHO.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-1579229315834446450</id><published>2009-05-17T22:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T22:50:59.657+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of equations and gadgets</title><content type='html'>Holy sheep! Add maths tomorrow. I'm so stressed out it's not even funny. I might've shed a tear, or two, or three. But this is a ritual I have every night before an add maths paper. I think I expect too much out of myself. Because I know I can do it? Entah la, I'm just so ERGH.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I worked the WHOLE day tying ribbons and giving out wedding favours and all that shiz. However, the main thing was that I got to play with Aaron's camera! It was 8 pounds, it was heavy. I only took two shots, or was it three, I don't know, but I chickened out because it was really scary 'playing' with a very expensive piece of equipment. God knows how clumsy I am, so yes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aaron : Nah! You said you wanted to play ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aina : Ehehehe, I'M SCARED!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The conclusion is that, I don't think I'll ever be a photographer. Never. Not in the future, nor in my next life! As for usual, I was really tired, so I was really hyper. I met my senior, Aimie at the wedding. My my, what a small world it is. Very small world indeed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am going to hit the sacks now, so that I can wake up early again to do my add maths when my mind is cleared. I've got to make sure that I am not emotionally disturbed, because as for right now, my nerves are getting to me and I am freaking the hell out. So yes. In the mornings, its really calm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gnite!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And no, it's not &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;just &lt;/span&gt;formulas! Susah :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-1579229315834446450?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/1579229315834446450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=1579229315834446450' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1579229315834446450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/1579229315834446450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/holy-sheep-add-maths-tomorrow.html' title='of equations and gadgets'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-986371011359988933</id><published>2009-05-17T02:22:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T02:35:26.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Abang, kitak madah kitak mok &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;call &lt;/span&gt;kamek when kitak &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;get home&lt;/span&gt;. Kitak klaka kitak &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;promise&lt;/span&gt;. Kamek tunggu kitak &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;call &lt;/span&gt;kitak sik &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;call &lt;/span&gt;kamek. Haih. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, mek sik buleh tido. Mek minum alot of caffeinated drinks. I've gone hyper. Oh well! I've been having nothing but junk today. Pizza in the afternoon, chocolates and the addictive plasticine-y something apple laffy whatever at Leanne's and leftover lauk from, god knows when.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I studied for like, I don't know, untill 1 am, for addmaths. But still, sik ada pa masuk kepala mek :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sg8GuSQWVTI/AAAAAAAAA-c/CMpYfG-vjYk/s1600-h/P2200058.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sg8GuSQWVTI/AAAAAAAAA-c/CMpYfG-vjYk/s320/P2200058.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336491475701486898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Aritok, Mr Siva madah Leanne kelak jadi doctor !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Auk, nang possible ! Mek sik buleh imagine !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dr. Leanne De Silva. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dude, it kinda sounds nice! Then boleh marry that butter boy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-986371011359988933?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/986371011359988933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=986371011359988933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/986371011359988933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/986371011359988933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/abang-kitak-klaka-kitak-mok-call-kamek.html' title=''/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sg8GuSQWVTI/AAAAAAAAA-c/CMpYfG-vjYk/s72-c/P2200058.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-5086574323487467210</id><published>2009-05-16T20:33:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T22:21:16.292+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sg7LfFFLMSI/AAAAAAAAA-U/gJaS_KBoHZg/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sg7LfFFLMSI/AAAAAAAAA-U/gJaS_KBoHZg/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336426343280881954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"&gt;this is why i love leanne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;o I've been blog hopping on my schoolmates' blogs, and they are ALL talking about midterms. What about me? I wonder la kan. Have I been talking too much about midterms as well? Let's see. Well, I haven't talked about midterms in particular, I've just been talking about studying. Mun sik studying, I'd be talking about tuition classes. How boring is that? I mean seriously, everyday books, everyday tuition classes. But what the hey, today I had THREE tuition classes!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm home alone since everyone is out somewhere in TTDI at the dewan Mammy's client is going to have his wedding reception at. And so I said that I won't be going but I will be going now. Mammy thinks I should take a break off studying and just chill tomorrow. One thing for certain is tomorrow won't be chilled ! But kind of? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I used to be so chilled during exams. For the simple reason being, I already know how to do most equations, I've already memorized my refference books, I've already read BM books so that my karangan(s) are in tip top conditions. But I don't know why, eversince last year, I've felt like the dumbest person around.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My teras subjects are pretty much okay. I can get an A for each one of them. Sure. But what about my science subjects? If there was a world record for the lowest of the lowest level existing on Earth, I would be even lower than that. I know I'm much better than that. Although maybe, I'm just not cut out for the science stream. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The problem is that, I don't put in my heart and soul into my science subjects. I just don't like studying them. But the satisfaction of getting an answer, or figuring out a solution, or having the ability to explain mechanisms, are just so, exhilarating! If I can get an answer, if I can figure out a solution, and if I am able to explain some mechanisms, what makes me think that I can't do it for all the other answers, solutions and mechanisms?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hah I love where a blog post can take me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just need to remind myself that I actually can do it. I need to give myself the time of day. And realize that, with a little bit of heart put into it, I can understand many more things. Because I do believe in myself. I know I'm smart. I just have to work on it. Bukan mok madah pa. But I know myself better than anyone else right? Thank god for my self-esteem man!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I also need to stop hyperventillating! I HAVE TO LEARN HOW TO CHILL. How to breathe! I heard that breathing is important.. Hmm!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-5086574323487467210?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/5086574323487467210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=5086574323487467210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5086574323487467210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5086574323487467210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/so-ive-been-blog-hopping-on-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sg7LfFFLMSI/AAAAAAAAA-U/gJaS_KBoHZg/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-5134410155924279394</id><published>2009-05-16T00:51:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T01:24:54.351+08:00</updated><title type='text'>mek berklaka dalam bahasa sarawak</title><content type='html'>Mek &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;excited &lt;/span&gt;maok madah dalam Bahasa Sarawak di blog kamek&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;Apa kenak Aina tok? Kedak sikda &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;life&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wannabe &lt;/span&gt;auk? Sikda tek. Tok akibat &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;too much time on my hands and in desperate needs of amusment. &lt;/span&gt;Bukan mok madah pa, bukan mok eksen kah apa ka, mek nang &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very interested in languages. &lt;/span&gt;Bahasa bahasa laen susah mok belajar, bahasa sarawak pun okay tek. Mek tau mek madah dan menaep blog dalam bahasa sarawak buat urang sarawak tetak kat kamek. Memang auk! Giney tok? Paham sik paham apa mek madah tok? Sikpa, mek buat tok kedak mek madah, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for fun. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;Sik selalu! &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Once in a blue moon. It's just a phase, and it'll pass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, kelak, mek gago dengan tution classes. Aritok ada sigek + sigek + sigek = three tuition classes. Add maths for two hours, Physics for one and a half hours, and also Chemistry for two hours. Mek mok mati kedak ya! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aritok mek sik pergi Leanne's house. Mun sik, everyday at Leanne's house. Mek going again tomorrow, and also on Sunday to polah add maths. Add maths polah mek rasa polai. Mek can't even do simultaneous equations at this point. Mek sik mok give up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that is why, mek sik buleh ke sia kelak for the wedding. Mek ada responsibilities towards my exam grades, and I am not about to give that up. Mek mok pergik. Mek mok jumpa Aaron. Mek mok chill dengan family mek. Mek sik buleh complain! Mun mek mok pass add maths mek kena duduk rumah, belajar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so going to Leanne's on Sunday do my addmaths. I can't do it alone! I'd die.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sg2k6jIPGNI/AAAAAAAAA-E/r20S3agF0yU/s1600-h/090122_201154.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sg2k6jIPGNI/AAAAAAAAA-E/r20S3agF0yU/s320/090122_201154.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336102459273058514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mek sik jumpa Bebe the one eyed dog aritok because mek sik pergi Leanne's house! Sikpa, kelak mek jumpa Bebe! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-5134410155924279394?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/5134410155924279394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=5134410155924279394' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5134410155924279394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/5134410155924279394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/mek-berklaka-dalam-bahasa-sarawak.html' title='mek berklaka dalam bahasa sarawak'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sg2k6jIPGNI/AAAAAAAAA-E/r20S3agF0yU/s72-c/090122_201154.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-6298171037958942812</id><published>2009-05-15T16:09:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T16:36:31.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Giney tok?</title><content type='html'>Kamek mok nok ya, giney? Nok ney? Nok ya laa! Aritok kamek nampak nya. Cute tek. Mun sik jumpa nya, singkol hati mek. Giney tok? Pikey balit, mek mok carik jawapan, tapi soalan pun sik tauk. Giney mok carik jawapan? Kinek tok, pikiran mek &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very &lt;/span&gt;ceridak.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Haha kay, learning another language is tough! I'll tell you what's even more tougher. My Biology paper. It is really frustrating because all the hard stuff did not come out. I took all the easy stuff for granted that I actually know inside out, left right and centre of the mechanism but guess what, I don't. My memory stick's storage is decreasing more and more nowadays. And that I think is causing eyes to strain alot, therefore, I know the power of my glasses need to be upgraded soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kamek sik tauk mok polah pa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Come on, this is only the first day of exams. Nine more to go. Awesome possum! I am not in the mood to face him after he quit on us yesterday. Yes people, our bio tutor quit on us, a day before our midterm exams. And he is also my chem tutor, so I still have to face him. Haih, addmaths spree today. Yum yum!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;During bio, bio tutor mek polah mek rasa paloi. Especially in bio class. So maybe it's a good thing after all? I hope we get a another bio tutor real soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kenak mek asyik gago jak? I want to be free and easy. But when I am free and easy, I want to be busy pulak. I'm so fickle it kills me. I need to sleep. This morning, mek bangun at five o clock. Polah pa? Mek polah Bio. Study lagi. Sik tauk bait or jait mek polah kedak ya. I'm tired!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-6298171037958942812?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/6298171037958942812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=6298171037958942812' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6298171037958942812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/6298171037958942812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/giney-tok.html' title='Giney tok?'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2303426564741981920.post-2586685344921029793</id><published>2009-05-14T23:47:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T23:53:49.959+08:00</updated><title type='text'>this shit</title><content type='html'>Straining of the eyes due to insufficient source of light and excessive amount of reading gives me a terrible headache. The nerves at my eyes are twitching again and again. Anxiety causes me not to breathe very easily and this decreases the amount of oxygen received by my brain. And that causes no facts whatsoever that I've just read to remain permanent in this head of mine. My heart is about to explode because I am so nervous, and the fact that he quit on us because he just gave up, makes me want to cry, because I'm so worried and scared. I don't know what I need to make it all better. Maybe sleep would help. But I highly doubt it. It can't get any worse than this right? Insyaallah. God help me. God help us! I want to crawl into a black hole and disappear :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2303426564741981920-2586685344921029793?l=ainanordin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/feeds/2586685344921029793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2303426564741981920&amp;postID=2586685344921029793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2586685344921029793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2303426564741981920/posts/default/2586685344921029793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ainanordin.blogspot.com/2009/05/this-shit.html' title='this shit'/><author><name>Aina Nordin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14009264704667829823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_P5iPy7bu4RU/Sf_X3X6MPiI/AAAAAAAAA6U/g0xU-1aIRdQ/S220/oaaaa.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
