<?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-7277398</id><updated>2012-02-09T00:55:09.188+08:00</updated><title type='text'>~Life is like a box of chocolates~</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>183</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-4555002037591442683</id><published>2008-01-21T12:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T12:23:45.126+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://mylinabs.multiply.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you there!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-4555002037591442683?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/4555002037591442683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=4555002037591442683&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/4555002037591442683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/4555002037591442683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2008/01/ive-moved.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-5241978142831455343</id><published>2007-10-16T01:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T01:48:33.125+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had the best of the best dream last night.  I met Anuar Zain :-)  It was a short dream but very pleasant.  *wide grin*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can call him anything you want.  Anything negative.  I don't give a damn :-p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always like him.  His love songs are superb.  His vocal is unique.  But honestly, not all of his songs I like.  And to be truly honestly, I actually like him as a person.  I've not met him personally.  But him as in appearance.  Er, am I making sense?  Ok, really now.  I like his look.  Wakaka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like his long hair era.  I'd have cut them off if I can.  What I like is his very short hairdo.  Neat.  Handsome :-D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/J-WbLnEREUA"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/J-WbLnEREUA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this video.  I always ignore that girl in the video with him.  To me, she's a crazy fanatic somebody with big bulging eyes who happens to be in the video as a somebody with big bulging eyes.  Duh!  What I like to see is him.  Him.  And only him.  Ooooh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.  Oh yeah.  Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri to you.  I almost forgot :-p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-5241978142831455343?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/5241978142831455343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=5241978142831455343&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/5241978142831455343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/5241978142831455343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-had-best-of-best-dream-last-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-8305140761256243222</id><published>2007-09-21T00:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T00:23:18.732+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was right.  My index number is 1.  ONE.  Urgh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the lesson was BORING!  Mainly because I didn't understand it.  I shook my brain to receive the words spoken, but it refused to accept the words.  Stubborn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's good to have Linda with me.  Some things she understands.  But most of the things she creates her own definition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Apa benda seh unitary?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linda : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;er..?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Macam urinary jer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linda : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Ah macam tu lah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me &amp; Linda : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Wahahahahahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Apa pluralist ah?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linda : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;er..?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Plural aku tahu lah.. tapi pluralist tu apa?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linda : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Oh.. tu macam a list of plurals&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me &amp; Linda : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Wahahahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Abih class conflict tu apa pulak?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linda : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Alaa conflict lah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Abih kenapa taruk class?  Kalau conflict taruk conflict ajer lah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linda : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Oh tu pasal satu class ada conflict&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me &amp; Linda : &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Wahahahahahah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can imagine the fun we had.  By ourselves.  If this continues, we'll fail.  Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I came home and consult my dearest *boring* hubby who knows about *boring* stuffs.  He has some answers.  Lucky me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, hopefully tonight's lesson will be the opposite of Wednesday's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-8305140761256243222?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/8305140761256243222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=8305140761256243222&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/8305140761256243222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/8305140761256243222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-was-right.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-5932053970554862612</id><published>2007-09-20T17:22:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T17:23:28.614+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My all time favourite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/O7OB-kptJvQ"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/O7OB-kptJvQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-5932053970554862612?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/5932053970554862612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=5932053970554862612&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/5932053970554862612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/5932053970554862612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-all-time-favourite-httpwww.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-7738701087695170384</id><published>2007-09-19T14:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T15:26:15.498+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My first lesson starts tonight.  I'm looking forward to it.  It's gonna be fun.  Especially with Linda around :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linda's other half complained, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Everything also must with Lina (me).  Everytime also must talk to Lina.  Phone la.  Sms la.  Before sleep also must talk on the phone"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL.  When I think about it, it's true.  My phone usage is usually to her.  I talk to her more than my own husband.  Sometimes I don't remember what we talked about.  Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok ok back to school now.  One thing, though.  My index number is mostly usually number 1 because it starts with an A.  Hate it.  Everytime the teacher starts to call names, I will jump &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;terkejut&lt;/span&gt;.  I blamed my parents for giving me such popular, glamour and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;kental&lt;/span&gt; name.  Bluergh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this time my name comes second or later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.  Yes I cooked last night *roll eyes*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-7738701087695170384?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/7738701087695170384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=7738701087695170384&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/7738701087695170384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/7738701087695170384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-first-lesson-starts-tonight.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-9095493104813122683</id><published>2007-09-18T03:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T03:18:56.754+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I may be lazy.  I may yell now and then.  I may show my tantrum by banging the pots and utensils.  I may not wake up to say bye to my husband when he leaves for work in the morning.  I will disturb him at work and tell him all sorts of petty things on the phone.  I will spend most of his money because it's practically mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I always do the things that he expects me to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he calls me OBEDIENT.  Me.  I.  Am.  Obedient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what I'll get for being one...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.  If only my mom knows, she'll vomit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-9095493104813122683?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/9095493104813122683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=9095493104813122683&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/9095493104813122683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/9095493104813122683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-may-be-lazy.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-4054999156757915960</id><published>2007-09-17T14:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-18T03:04:53.284+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ramadhan.  It's fasting month.  Again.  Time flies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know they say that if you fast during the day, you only have to eat just a little bit to feel full when you break your fast?  And if you eat your normal portion during break fast, you'll feel so stuffed you won't want to do anything except lay down like a near full term pregnant woman.  It's true.  On the first day of Ramadhan, I gulped down three cups of hot Milo (yeah I was &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; thirsty) and could only eat food half an hour later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, we'll be 10 tomorrow.  Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wanted to do something nice.  So I made enquiry at that new Carousel at Royal Plaza on Scotts and it costs $49.50++ per adult.  That means it'll cost us minimum $150++ including the kids (yeah I know, it's our anniversary but the kids &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;sibuk jer kan?&lt;/span&gt;  LOL).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I thought huh?  $150?  Isn’t that a bit costly since we’ll be eating like only a plate each?  No No.  Not worth.  So I think we will just eat in tomorrow.  Furthermore we do have to think of the poor and unfortunate.  I only wish that I don’t have to cook if we eat in.  I've been doing that everyday.  How can?  Maybe the kids should cook.  Yes.  Why not?  It is our day after all.  Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually I planned to post a longer entry.  But I suddenly feel sleepy.  Must be the thirst and hunger.  LOL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-4054999156757915960?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/4054999156757915960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=4054999156757915960&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/4054999156757915960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/4054999156757915960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/09/ramadhan.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-2170681066662343289</id><published>2007-09-09T02:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-09T02:15:45.421+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>After 16 years.  I am going back to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited.  And nervous.  And excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's making it more exciting is that my best friend is gonna be with me.  &lt;em&gt;Boleh ke these two mak mak belajar lagi?  Ish!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Together, we blur.  LOL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-2170681066662343289?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/2170681066662343289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=2170681066662343289&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/2170681066662343289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/2170681066662343289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/09/after-16-years.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-3710736759095496089</id><published>2007-08-10T22:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T13:12:32.000+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A friend once said that marriage changes a person and brings out the best in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How true that is for me.  Hubby guides me to where I am today.  Because knowing the vulnerable me, I would surely be stranded somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be celebrating our 10th year wedding anniversary next month.  It is a huge thing for me because thinking back, I wasn't even sure that we'd be together after what we went through during our dating years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-3710736759095496089?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/3710736759095496089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=3710736759095496089&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/3710736759095496089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/3710736759095496089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/07/friend-once-said-that-marriage-changes.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-4609453226936630463</id><published>2007-08-08T01:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T02:19:43.809+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It was a perfect life for them.  They met, fell in love, marriage, a beautiful home, two kids and a half, life full of fun and laughter.  It went just as they hoped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But God has other plan.  He took away the man with a blink of an eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a friend's experience.  She said it's just too good to be true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hit too close to home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so afraid.  I refuse to think about it.  But this is life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I envy her courage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-4609453226936630463?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/4609453226936630463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=4609453226936630463&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/4609453226936630463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/4609453226936630463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/08/it-was-perfect-life-for-them.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-5642967427811433978</id><published>2007-04-14T22:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T22:55:05.467+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We lost two good friends today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're deeply saddened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wherever you are, you will always be in our hearts"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-5642967427811433978?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/5642967427811433978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=5642967427811433978&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/5642967427811433978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/5642967427811433978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/04/we-lost-two-good-friends-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-2922604693004242663</id><published>2007-01-19T21:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T23:02:25.504+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Hurt - Christina Aguilera&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3KEAD2dzDRE"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3KEAD2dzDRE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hair, all the hairs, on my body, from top to toe, the exposed ones and hidden ones, even my eyebrow hair (which ain't much by the way), stood up like a disciplined soldier, when Christina sang this entire song.  I'd give anything to have a powerful and wonderful voice like hers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, ok, sit down, hair!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-2922604693004242663?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/2922604693004242663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=2922604693004242663&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/2922604693004242663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/2922604693004242663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/01/hurt-christina-aguilera-hair-all-hairs.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-124035046922027938</id><published>2007-01-08T12:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T13:09:17.572+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I came on MSN and saw Shsuya is on.  We managed to chat for a minute before she rushed off to breasfeed her newborn.  I told her that her son's picture on her profile is nicely taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Lynn&lt;/span&gt; : Very nice pic.. siapa yang snap?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Shsuya&lt;/span&gt; : Aku la&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Lynn&lt;/span&gt; : The effect very nice.  The baby also very nice (takut mak baby kecik hati tak puji anak dia, cuma puji gambar)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Shsuya&lt;/span&gt; : Tak kecik ati pun.  Tapi kalau tak k die ahh baru kecik apuji mati&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Lynn&lt;/span&gt; : Apa yang kau bebual????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Shsuya&lt;/span&gt; : Ape aku type ni????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Lynn&lt;/span&gt; : Haha haha (still laughing when I'm typing this)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She blamed the typo on one finger typing because her other hand was carrying her baby.  But she is so well known for her typos I don't believe one bit.  She was already typo-prone way before she's pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's not only famous for typos.  She's also famous for her Chicago pronounced as CHI-CHAR-GO.  Wakaka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For your info, Shsuya, this coming Saturday my hubby going to CHI-CHAR-GO, you know :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-124035046922027938?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/124035046922027938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=124035046922027938&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/124035046922027938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/124035046922027938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-came-on-msn-and-saw-shsuya-is-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-5911683356176264734</id><published>2007-01-05T08:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T12:15:38.710+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>WoooWeeeeeeeeee!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not too late to wish myself and everyone a Happy New Year 2007, since it is still the first week of the year.  The Chinese celebrate their New Year for 15 days.  The Muslims celebrate Aidilfitri for a month (well, not a new year but still it is a celebration).  Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I thought of quitting blogging but I feel it's a waste to stop.  I went through all the archive in this blog and it brought back a lot of memories.  Some of them I've even forgotten.  So, yeah, I'll blog whenever I feel like it.  It's mine anyway so I can do whatever I want.  Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uij6YbVkp3s/RZ2pDxBQISI/AAAAAAAAAAM/3MtFceNDggw/s1600-h/image0051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uij6YbVkp3s/RZ2pDxBQISI/AAAAAAAAAAM/3MtFceNDggw/s320/image0051.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5016351442123890978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A lot has happened since the last entry.  December was a busy month.  It's also a happy month for me.  Main reason because Hubby cleared the last three weeks off work and spent a whole lot of the time with us.  We were out of the house most of the days doing shopping, shopping and shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of those days, he gave me a very sweet surprise.  In the morning, he told me that the kids are going to his mom's to stay and I'm to pack my necessities.  He didn't want to tell what his plan was.  I was so curious it nearly burst my brain.  Really.  I tried so hard to find out the secret but I failed.  So when he made a turn to this hotel, I was shocked.  And scared.  For one thing, it isn't an expensive hotel.  But it is a VERY expensive one.  I'd love to stay there (in my dream) as it's one of the best hotels in Singapore but I wouldn't want to spend so much money on it.  I'd rather spend the money shopping.  But still, he was so sweet I licked him all over that night.  Kwang kwang kwang!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0048.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0049-1.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0050.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;He also said that it's a once in a lifetime treat, so I should savour the moment.  Cheh.  He can also be evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to another news :p  We already have Xbox360.  And now we also have the cool Playstation3!!!  Like a friend said, my place has turned into an arcade.  Haha.  Well actually, PS3 belongs to my boy.  He got it as a Christmas present from his grandfather.  But since he's too young to play, we've been playing it eversince.  Haha.  (for the record, my girl received a brand new desktop)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0053-1.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0052.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;So anyway, I've officially become a morning person.  As in 5.30 morning, ok.  That is even earlier than some of you working people.  Not excited about it but a mom's got to do what she's got to do.  Bluergh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boy has started nursery.  It was orientation the first day.  He (and me!) cried the second day.  He cried (I didn't) and vomitted today.  Looking at his small frame, I can't believe that he's started school.  The other boys are all bigger than him.  I'm worried about him.  About his trip to the little boys room especially.  I doubt the teachers will help.  Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh!  Speaking of him, I have to get ready to pick him up now.  I don't want him to exit the school door and find me missing.  I told him I'll wait outside the whole time he's in class.  Heehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till next time (don't know when)!  Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-5911683356176264734?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/5911683356176264734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=5911683356176264734&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/5911683356176264734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/5911683356176264734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2007/01/woooweeeeeeeeee-its-not-too-late-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Uij6YbVkp3s/RZ2pDxBQISI/AAAAAAAAAAM/3MtFceNDggw/s72-c/image0051.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-4957586757069093090</id><published>2006-12-11T01:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T02:07:54.087+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm thinking of quiting blogging.  I've lost interest in typing down my thoughts.  And there aren't much to start with.  I envy those who can blog everyday.  Or even every other day.  They have so much things to write about.  You can give them a topic, say MRT rides, and they can blog about it for a whole page.  For me, MRT rides are just rides.  You sit or stand, you view people's faces and the familiar surroundings, you get bored, and then you reach your destination.  My mind isn't so complicated eh?  See, even this paragraph has become boring to me.  Urgh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, anyway, many way, it is December.  I believe it's a favourite month for many.  Especially to me.  Because it is the ka-ching! month.  Yipee!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have no plans to go for a holiday this time.  But we do have plans to buy a lot of things!  In fact, we have bought some.  With our future money, they call it.  Yup.  Credit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently we've changed our marital bed and mattress.  Nine years full of actions.  The bed isn't what it used to be.  So we bid it bye bye and get a much more comfortable one with that NASA-kind-a-thing-memory-foam.  It is so goooooooood!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also have been eyeing for that Xbox 360 and got it at SITEX.  The kids and their father have been on it eversince.  Tsk tsk.  Speaking of which, we have &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Gears of War&lt;/span&gt; tshirt and notebook to sell at the highest price offered.  We were told it is a limited edition.  Only a small number of pieces in the world.  And we're one of the lucky people to have it.  Yeah, whatever.  Let me know if you want to buy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also looking forward to a day of shopping alone.  It's gonna be fun.  I did it last year and am doing it again this year.  I'm gonna make it a tradition.  As long as hubby doesn't faint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've yet to visit Shsuya and her newborn baby.  I take this opportunity to wish her and hubby a big Congratulations!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I was saying, I feel I want to quit blogging.  But this entry doesn't look like I'm quitting eh?  What lah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-4957586757069093090?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/4957586757069093090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=4957586757069093090&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/4957586757069093090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/4957586757069093090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/12/im-thinking-of-quiting-blogging.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-4326877887685527828</id><published>2006-11-16T14:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T17:38:22.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Now I have this scary thoughts about our home on fire whenever we're not at home.  It is scary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The incident 3 days ago left me thinking.  The circuit breaker was turned off automatically when it sensed danger.  But the water heater worked itself to flame.  What if we were already asleep?  The darkness won't wake us because it'd be already dark since we'd turned off all the lights before sleeping.  It would take me (a light sleeper) a while to even realise that the air-conditioner or the fan is turned off.  By the time I feel warm, the bathroom could be on fire.  Or worse, if this happens in December when we plan to go away for a short holiday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This scares me even when I'm sleeping.  I'm so comfortable with my home now that thoughts about losing it in a flash scare the hell out of me.  Urgh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fire is our biggest enemy, no?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-4326877887685527828?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/4326877887685527828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=4326877887685527828&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/4326877887685527828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/4326877887685527828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/11/now-i-have-this-scary-thoughts-about.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-3098846873652707355</id><published>2006-11-14T00:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T00:39:00.105+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So the water heater agent sent their technician over today and replaced a new unit.  I hope this one will not give us any problem.  I can't say the brand is not good because the previous unit was also of the same brand and we used it for 8 years before it screamed for a new one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we've bought the fire extinguisher.  It's only about S$9 and easy to use, but I pray that we don't ever need to use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, enough about the fire story :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up is about what hubby and me usually fight about.  My reading hobby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually read my book until the wee hours of the morning.  Not 1 or 2 or 3am.  Sometimes I read till 4am.  Which annoys hubby.  Because I'd keep my side lamp on and everytime he changes his sleeping position, he could see something bright through his eyelids.  He'd tell me off and I'd quickly close my book and try hard to fall asleep.  Sometimes I fail.  So I move to the living room :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I ignored him.  I can't always give in to his hobby, can I?  Even though he needs his sleep.  But if he waited for me to finish the page, we'd go to sleep peacefully.  But no.  He got quite angry and carried his pillow and bolster to the other room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, when he does that, I'd quickly pull him back to our bed.  But I really wasn't sleepy last night, so I let him be.  And he slept in the other empty room till morning.  On the floor.  Serves him right.  He thought I'd go to him as usual.  Huh.  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Action some more, lah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2902/888/1600/PB150585.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2902/888/320/PB150585.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So today, I bought the most important thing which I need to use for a week every month.  And with it comes a free gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If one eye mask isn't enough for him, I'll give him both.  If two isn't enough, I will have to add the real stuff and even use it as his mouth-mask.  That will surely shut him up.  Wahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-3098846873652707355?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/3098846873652707355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=3098846873652707355&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/3098846873652707355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/3098846873652707355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/11/so-water-heater-agent-sent-their.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-8374185297479677456</id><published>2006-11-13T02:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T14:21:04.526+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2902/888/1600/PB140582.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2902/888/320/PB140582.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We called 995.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes before we called them, our house came into darkness.  We didn't know what triggered the power to turn off.  We investigated the kitchen.  We smelled something burning.  In the darkness, I noticed a flickering light in the bathroom.  And then, everything went chaotic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The water heater is on fire.  Hubby told me to open the main door, get the kids outside and call 995.  The smoke was so thick but fortunately, the window is just outside the bathroom.  While talking to the officer on the phone, the fire got slightly bigger.  Hubby threw water on it.  Somehow, the fire died, but the thick smoke lingered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very soon, "rhino" arrived and my home was swarmed with fire fighters.  Not only that, the big red fire engine came too, and then there were even more fire fighters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, we searched for the water heater's warranty card and the receipt of purchase.  We will definitely demand a compensation.  Wahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We learned a few things from this experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  We need to get a fire extinguisher.  No matter how small it is.  In fact, I'm going to get one for each of our parents.  You should get one, too.  (while typing this, I realised that we should also get one for the car)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  We should switch off all electricity when we're out of the house.  Anything can happen within 5 minutes.  (which makes me think, I can't switch off my fridge power, can I?  I have food in there!  Hmmm)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Do not panic.  Do not panic.  Do not panic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God hubby's trip to the States is postponed to January.  He was supposed to go for a week last Saturday.  Imagine if I was alone at home with the kids!  I think the first I'd do is to call him on the phone, which I know is stupid.  That's why I said, don't panic, don't panic, don't panic!  :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, before you ask, no one is injured.  We're all fine.  My daughter has so many questions about the jobs of our 995 and 999.  Without realising, it's a learning experience for her.  My son can't stop saying, "just now got fire, got firemen, got police, got fire engine".  Thanks to him, we will never forget the incident.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-8374185297479677456?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/8374185297479677456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=8374185297479677456&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/8374185297479677456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/8374185297479677456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/11/we-called-995.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-1036021126619772082</id><published>2006-11-07T02:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T03:09:15.921+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I think, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I think&lt;/span&gt;, I'm done with Hari Raya visitings.  I hope, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I hope&lt;/span&gt;, I'm done with hostings.  Haha.  &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;*Hint!  Hint!*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the 4th attempt I'm typing at this paragraph.  I just don't have a thing to blog!  My mind is so blank!  Urgh!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here are some pictures from yesterday's visits to Jenab's and Joyah's.  For more pictures, click &lt;a href="http://mylinabs.multiply.com/photos/album/9"TARGET="_blank"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;  Ciao!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0045-1.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0046-1.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0047.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-1036021126619772082?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/1036021126619772082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=1036021126619772082&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/1036021126619772082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/1036021126619772082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-think-i-think-im-done-with-hari-raya.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-7333728499750632332</id><published>2006-11-04T02:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T02:55:59.640+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh, wow!  I think this is the longest break ever this blog has seen.  The reasons, you asked?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, firstly, it was Ramadhan.  The reason was, er, you know, fasting month and all that, I had no energy to update.  My fingers refused to type since it couldn't feed food into my mouth during daytime.  Like &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;mogok&lt;/span&gt;, you know.  And during nighttime, the fingers preferred to press the buttons on the tv remote control.  Heh.  Good reasons, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, it was Syawal.  Cleaning, scrubing, wiping, dusting, polishing, vacuuming, mopping, cooking, eating, drinking, visiting, hosting.  It was exhausting, I tell ya.  And you should look at all the kilos that I've gained from being busy.  It's like I'm blessed with all the stones when others lose weight from exhaustion.  Oh, wait!  Did I say blessed?  Nah, I meant cursed.  Uwaaaaaaaaaaah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh what a load of craps!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok ok!  I was plain lazy.  &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;L.A.Z.Y.&lt;/span&gt;  There you go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm back blogging.  I hope I am.  I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;think&lt;/span&gt; I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, let this entry be the ball that rolls.  Yes, yes.  Like get the ball rolling.  Wahaha.  Ok it's 2.28am, so forgive me for talking rubbish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, before I leave, I'd like to wish my Muslim relatives, friends, bloggermates, strangers and whoever relevant a &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri.  Maaf zahir dan batin. &lt;/span&gt; Better late than never, eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2902/888/1600/image0044.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/2902/888/320/image0044.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More pictures &lt;a href="http://mylinabs.multiply.com/photos/album/8"TARGET="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-7333728499750632332?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/7333728499750632332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=7333728499750632332&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/7333728499750632332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/7333728499750632332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/11/oh-wow-i-think-this-is-longest-break.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115868994758313833</id><published>2006-09-18T02:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:53.001+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This day, 9 years ago, I became a wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May there'll be many more years of smooth sailing.  InsyaAllah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115868994758313833?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115868994758313833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115868994758313833&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115868994758313833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115868994758313833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/09/this-day-9-years-ago-i-became-wife.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115856618248837643</id><published>2006-09-17T15:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.914+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0034-2.jpg" align="left" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;I wanted to put up an entry about my driving license, but I missed the anniversary date.  Anyway, better late than never.  So here it is, my license after acquiring it for 10 years!  Woohoo!!  Got prize or not?  Clean record, you know :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/1600/image0035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/320/image0035.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I became the, er, good daughter by sending my dad to Johor for a massage.  There is a massuer that he and my uncle comfortable with.  Since hubby can't be the driver for valid reasons, I left the kids with him and drove my parents across the causeway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over there, I met with my uncle's family.  My cousin, Zila, and I were asked to run an errand.  She's got her driving license a few months back but she asked me to drive for that errand.  Ooookaay.  No problem.  With confident, I started the engine, switched on the aircon, shifted my seat, checked the rear-view mirror, all ready, pressed brake, released hand-brake, shifted the gear to reverse to move.  Crrrrraaaaaaaannnnkkkkk!  Engine stalled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh?  What happened???  Zila laughed and pointed to my relaxed left foot on the floor.  The clutch!  I didn't press the clutch!!!  How could I forgot the clutch??  Duh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what driving an auto car for two years do to me.  Pampered.  Tsk tsk tsk.  10 years with driving license and yet I can forget the very basic rule.  Tsk tsk tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok on to a discovery :)  You know where Jamie Oliver gets herbs for his cookings?  His mom's place.  You know where I can get herbs for my cookings?  My mom's place!  Haha.  I just discovered that she has basil, oregano, bay and other stuffs in her garden (er, common corridor lah).  Isn't that cool?  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0036.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0037-1.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0038-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0039-1.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0040-1.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0041-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Ok, the end :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115856618248837643?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115856618248837643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115856618248837643&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115856618248837643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115856618248837643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-wanted-to-put-up-entry-about-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115840550875748544</id><published>2006-09-16T18:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My beloved oven has been sitting in its place unheated for a very long time.  I can't say it's abandoned.  It is certainly not.  It's been used as a hiding place - for goodies.  Haha.  Because of its out-of-reach location, a lot of tid-bits and sweets and chocolates and whatever were hidden there.  Out of my kids' reach.  Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But recently, too much of watching Jamie Oliver has made me change.  We should get the oven working.  So I called up for servicing and whatever repair my oven needed, and the whole thing cost $280!  &lt;em&gt;Makkao!  Mahalnyer!&lt;/em&gt;  Urgh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, now that it's done, I should really make full use of it.  Instead of fry chickens, I will roast them (lesser fats, very good).  Instead of pizza from the hut, I will do it myself (lesser $$, very good).  &lt;em&gt;Eh Chehbah!&lt;/em&gt; ;-)&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0030-1.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0031-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Now our meals have changed from local to AngMoh.  Haha.  One thing though, those western dishes use a lot of cheese and creams, eh?  Duh!  Why are nice things usually forbidden?  Haha.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0032-1.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0033-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Ok ok, Hari Raya cookies, here I come!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.  To Inah, I know you're reading this. (Touching you!) Heard you're pregnant with number 3?  Congratulations!  Hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115840550875748544?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115840550875748544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115840550875748544&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115840550875748544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115840550875748544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-beloved-oven-has-been-sitting-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115747768702763017</id><published>2006-09-06T01:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.756+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I, errr, unexpectedly, errr, came across these pictures.  I don't know who this girl is.  Errr...  Obviously she doesn't look like me.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/8ea44de8.jpg" /&gt;     &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/824decd1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Wahahaha!  Ok ok!  Believe it or not, that was me like twelve years ago!  I was half the size of what I am now!  *scream madly*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby fell in love with THAT me.  He always says that he was conned.  If he knew how that girl will turn out in twelve years time, he wouldn't have bothered.  Kwang kwang kwang!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Looks squintly at the shoes*  What the heck of a type of shoes was I wearing??!!!  And that Levis!  It was a size 27!!!   OMG!  What have I become????!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115747768702763017?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115747768702763017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115747768702763017&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115747768702763017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115747768702763017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-errr-unexpectedly-errr-came-across.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115744231033052276</id><published>2006-09-05T15:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.674+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is an overdue entry.  Not long overdue.  But slightly.  Heh.&lt;br /&gt;Went out with Mayling to celebrate her birthday last Friday.  As you may already know, she and I have this tradition where we treat one another dinner depending on whose birthday it is.  In last Friday's case, it was me treating her.  We always have problem deciding where to go and always ended up in town.  So we decided to try something new and headed to Holland Village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That place is happening, man!  So crowded.  The drive took me 15 minutes to reach but 30 minutes to find a parking space!  I nearly gave up!  But didn't.  I can't when I made her wait for me for nearly an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The atmosphere at Holland Village is so good!  There are a lot of restaurants and cafes and pubs and of course they also have hawker centre which opens till late.  There're also small shops selling accessories and handbags and stuffs girls like.  Cool lah beb!!!  Kwang kwang kwang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After some pastas, we went to Haagen Dazs!  Yippeeeeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/2f745906.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/69a7fdaa.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/28aca532.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The fondue listed at $34.00 or so in the menu.  It's a bit large for us two person but hey, I've been wanting to have it.  So what the heck!  But when the bill came, it's $40.00 plus service and GST.  URGH!  And to think that we couldn't finish it.  What a waste!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, we went to Sentosa.  My girl had shown some interest in World War II.  So off we went to visit Fort Siloso.  Nothing much changed there since I last went about 10 years ago.  Except the admission fee.  Heehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/10007194.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/95f939b9.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/70f4a238.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I'm sorry.  There are actually more photos taken from that visit.  But unfortunately, the photos have faces of the one man that had forbidden me to put up his handsome pictures on my blog.  Duh.  &lt;em&gt;(Sibuk jer kan muka dia kat gambar?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I've moved from buy/rental bookshop to the library again.  But it's only because I have a certain author that I love.  I've read one of her books and love it so much I decided to reserve all of her books at $1.55/book.  Very &lt;em&gt;kiasu&lt;/em&gt;, right?  And then I found out that there are 2 books with the same content but different title.  Why?  Why did they do things like that?  Waste my money, right?  Grrr...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/e53be601.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;And with this, I'd like to thank those who left comments suggesting some books for me to read.  I've looked for them, but so far, I can't find them yet.  Will keep looking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115744231033052276?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115744231033052276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115744231033052276&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115744231033052276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115744231033052276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/09/this-is-overdue-entry.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115742989800815086</id><published>2006-09-04T11:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.602+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning with the news that my brother, the only sibling I have, is coming home.  I knew that he is but I didn't know exactly when.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had mixed feelings about his return.  I can't say that I missed him.  He'd gone and come back many times in my life.  I can't say that I'm happy.  There were times in my life when he made me mad and devastated.  There were times when we're just so ashamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But deep in my heart, I'm glad that he's back.  I won't be the only child now.  I can share my plight with him.  My unhappiness.  My sadness.  My sorrow.  I can share all these with my other half, but it's not the same.  A husband can only listen and stand by me and give me the support that I need.  But a brother understands.  (Right, I'm talking about my mom actually)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we met and talked and shopped a little.  It was nice.  He looks older now, what with 9 years ahead of me.  So if there's anything that will make him change to a better person, it is his age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess, I've tied the yellow ribbon round the ole oak tree.  You know, unlock the second prison.  I wish the strong wind won't blow off the ribbon anymore like it did many times before.  Many times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115742989800815086?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115742989800815086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115742989800815086&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115742989800815086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115742989800815086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-woke-up-this-morning-with-news-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115734783724819779</id><published>2006-09-04T01:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.526+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>After 4 years of disappearance, he's back in our lives today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I &lt;em&gt;"Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Ole Oak Tree"?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.  It's easy to forgive.  But it's not easy to forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll let time tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115734783724819779?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115734783724819779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115734783724819779&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115734783724819779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115734783724819779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/09/after-4-years-of-disappearance-hes.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115661548021240094</id><published>2006-08-26T01:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.445+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is a story about a big fat elephant, whom today, had gotten a cool pair of shoe with wheels.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/433096fd.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The big fat elephant taught her baby girl to glide in a similar shoe last week and now her baby can glide gleefully to and fro without gliches.  The big fat elephant thought, &lt;em&gt;hmmm, since I can teach, I'm sure I can do it like a pro.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, the big fat elephant was wrong with capitals &lt;strong&gt;W-R-O-N-G&lt;/strong&gt;.  The moment she stood up, she fell flat on her big fat backside.  She was so sure she will make the news headline on Sunday Times tomorrow, &lt;em&gt;"Ground trembled at ECP by escaped big fat elephant"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sat sadly on a stool and watched other aliens glided in front of her.  She hate them all (not including her baby who is of course isn't an alien since she isn't one herself).  She especially hate her mate the most, whom had been telling her to "make a V!", "Carry your feet!", "Glide forward!", "Carry your feet!"  The big fat elephant wished she had her socks in her paw to stuff it inside her mate's mouth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She tried again and again.  She fell again and again.  All her energy was used trying to get up from her falls.  In the end, she let her mate used her cool shoe and opt for a two-wheels cycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she isn't giving up yet.  The shoe costs her mate $179, the least she can do is try again and lose the big fat backside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story is, &lt;em&gt;When there's a will, there's a way!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steady lah, BIG FAT ELEPHANT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115661548021240094?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115661548021240094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115661548021240094&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115661548021240094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115661548021240094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/this-is-story-about-big-fat-elephant.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115639754605682759</id><published>2006-08-24T13:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Back on the topic about giving away old clothings to someone we knew nothing about.  The Woman left a comment on that entry about strange people coming to her doorstep asking for donations.  I have a story to tell :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom used to receive such unwanted visitors on her doorstep.  They (usually a couple of them dressed in white as if some &lt;em&gt;ulama&lt;/em&gt;) would appear out of nowhere and stood in front of her doorstep and open up their palms as if praying, and recite all the words which we have no idea which part of the Quran it came from.  They would continue to pray until mom came to the door and hopefully will give some money.  But mom never gave.  Instead, mom will interview them :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom&lt;/strong&gt; :  You from where?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Unknown alien &lt;/strong&gt;:  We from Pakistan (or Bangladesh or India or wherever)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom &lt;/strong&gt;:  What you want?  (mom will act blur usually)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Unknown alien &lt;/strong&gt;:  Please auntie, give us some money to go back to Pakistan (or wherever they came from)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom &lt;/strong&gt;:  Aik?  You come to Singapore take aeroplane got money but want to go home no money?  Then why you come???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Unknown alien &lt;/strong&gt;:  *Recite some more &lt;em&gt;doas&lt;/em&gt; louder*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon they would walk away knowing they won't get any cents from mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to think of it, maybe they're illegal immigrants!  Hubby would love to meet such offenders!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115639754605682759?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115639754605682759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115639754605682759&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115639754605682759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115639754605682759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/back-on-topic-about-giving-away-old.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115636028218534984</id><published>2006-08-24T02:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.289+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was browsing through kennysia's blog's archive when I came across a topic he wrote about translations from English to Malay language.  There are so many funny comments on that entry that I can't help not repeating it here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home Alone 3 = &lt;em&gt;Keseorangan Di Rumah 3&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheaper By The Dozen = &lt;em&gt;Lelong Dua Belas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;101 Dalmatians = &lt;em&gt;101 Bintik&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Day After Tomorrow = &lt;em&gt;Lusa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joy Stick = &lt;em&gt;Kayu Gembira&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plug and Play = &lt;em&gt;Cucuk dan Main&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the most funniest one is taken from a scene in Black Hawk Down, a war movie which hubby and I luurve, when the commander shouted "Everybody duck!".. the translation says "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Semua orang itik!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That cracked me up crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm on this topic, I shall say that saying "I love you" sounds better in English than "&lt;em&gt;Aku cinta padamu&lt;/em&gt;".  In Malay, it just sounds so, so, so, &lt;em&gt;kental&lt;/em&gt;!  Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing.  What do you say in Malay if you wanna say "Make love to me..."???!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115636028218534984?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115636028218534984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115636028218534984&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115636028218534984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115636028218534984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-was-browsing-through-kennysias-blogs.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115634073590999123</id><published>2006-08-23T21:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Did you watch Hady sang tonight?  Did you?  And did you cry after that?  Did you?  Did you?!!  I did!!!  And so did hubby.  Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, we were not the only two (besides Hady and his mom) who cried.  Lisa sms-ed me and said she, too, cried.  Whoa!  So touching, man!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Hady &lt;strong&gt;IS&lt;/strong&gt; the next Singapore Idol.  It's obvious.  Unless you're a teenage girl and blind :p  He sang Legenda (from Sheila Majid) beautifully and emotionally.  The other song he sang is entertaining.  He deserves my votes.  Let me check again - sms the number 6 to 43657, right???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, did you hear the comment made by Ken Lim on Joakim?  He told the audience to be silent for a few seconds.  And then the whole place became quiet you can hear a pin drop.  And then Ken said, THAT sound is even better than hearing Joakim's singing.  WahLao!  So sharp a comment, can slice slice your heart one, ah!  If I ah, I cry already and pack my bags and go home la.  Haha.  Poor boy.  NOT!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115634073590999123?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115634073590999123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115634073590999123&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115634073590999123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115634073590999123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/did-you-watch-hady-sang-tonight-did.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115631676145121820</id><published>2006-08-23T14:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.143+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>As I was entering my home after sending my girl to school, a dark Malay woman stepped out from the door that lead to the staircase.  My flat is what they usually called a &lt;em&gt;point block&lt;/em&gt;.  There are only 4 units on my floor and it's shaped like a square.  The doors are usually closed, as this is usually the case with new houses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, when the dark Malay woman appeared from the staircase door, I was a little bit shocked because now that we have floor to floor lift landings, the staircase is more like for emergency purposes.  She asked me in Malay if I want to buy those &lt;em&gt;kerepek-keropoks&lt;/em&gt; from her, which by then I noticed the big bags she was carrying.  I shooked my head no and said thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then she asked if I have old children's clothes to give away.  Which, so coincidently, I have!  My girl cleaned up her wardrobe a few days ago and we have a pile of outgrown clothes.  I asked the woman where she's from and she said Batu Pahat, Johor.  So I assumed, she's kind of a needy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her to wait downstairs while I pack.  I don't want her waiting outside my door when I'm packing in the room.  I saw another woman downstairs which looked like her acquintance.  She said thank you and pressed the lift to go downstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I entered my home and did some thinking.  I regret promising her the clothings.  I don't know that woman.  I don't know her whereabouts.  What if she's not a good person?  And by giving her my daughter's clothings, will we be safe?  I imagine she has some black magic that can do evil things just by owning our clothes.  It can be done, can it not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I found her downstairs and told her that I'm afraid that the clothings have not been separated from the rest.  It will take some time for me to pack.  She said it's ok, another day then.  And then the other woman said, "Dik, mintak air sikit, Dik"  (She asked for some drinks.)  I was taken aback by her request that I didn't know for ten seconds what to do and then I felt some coins in my pocket and gave all to her and told her to go to the coffeeshop and get herself some drinks.  She thanked me over and over again, not knowing that a can of drink costs more than what I gave.  Heehee.  Now I hope they can't remember which floor I live.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115631676145121820?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115631676145121820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115631676145121820&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115631676145121820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115631676145121820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/as-i-was-entering-my-home-after.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115631523995798796</id><published>2006-08-22T14:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:52.044+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I met Linda a while ago for a drink at Starbucks near my home.  And I came to know from her that a Singapore Idol finalist Joakim Gomez's parents is a friend of her couple of good friends.  Errr... Got that?  No?  Nevermind lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is, those friends have been sending sms-es to vote for Joakim and even tried to get Linda to vote for him, too.  I told Linda if she ever wastes her 60cents on that guy, I'll never talk to her again.  Huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this competition sucks big time.  I will not be surprised if the final two are Joakim and Jasmine.  They are born to sing.  NOT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115631523995798796?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115631523995798796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115631523995798796&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115631523995798796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115631523995798796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-met-linda-while-ago-for-drink-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115614248242521952</id><published>2006-08-20T14:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.972+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/80d120f9.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7c911024.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Where else did we go over the weekend, but East Coast Park? :D  This time, besides cycling, my girl also tried her hands, er feet, on the roller-bladdng.  At first when she put on the roller-blades, her body went down like jelly.  She can't control the rollers at all.  She got so frustrated that she kinda become like me, crazy with hair all over the face.  But later, after some teaching from her mom (though her mom, too, no doubt will fall down not only like jelly but also like one big elephant), she became more confident and can roll by herself for about 10m.  Heehee.  She got hooked on it that she pesterred hubby to get her one.  Which yes, later, we did.  Duh.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/4ed328b4.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/f01609b4.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/d5170e90.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;So now that my girl can cycle on her own on two-wheels, she and my boy cycled around and around the place while their parents sat on the mat enjoying the breeze and occassionally looked out on them.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/6c5882bc.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;What a nice way to spend your Sunday with the free stuff from &lt;em&gt;Manja&lt;/em&gt; :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115614248242521952?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115614248242521952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115614248242521952&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115614248242521952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115614248242521952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/where-else-did-we-go-over-weekend-but.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115613970669380172</id><published>2006-08-19T13:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.901+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why is it so difficult to find a good place to eat after dark at the western side of Singapore?  Especially if you don't want to eat the usual fried rice, &lt;em&gt;mee goreng &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;nasi lemak&lt;/em&gt;.  I was craving for some Fish'n'Chips but I doubt we can find it anywhere after 10pm near our place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my sister-in-law recommended the newly opened &lt;em&gt;Taman Serasi &lt;/em&gt;at Botanic Gardens.  She hasn't been there but heard that it's re-opened now.  So we went and were disappointed.  It isn't anything near like the old &lt;em&gt;Taman Serasi&lt;/em&gt;.  The old one was like the old &lt;em&gt;Sate Club &lt;/em&gt;near City Hall.  Opened air, business till late at night, good food, good teh-tarik and all that.  But the new &lt;em&gt;Taman Serasi&lt;/em&gt; is exactly like a foodcourt in a shopping mall.  It's air-conditioned, and from what I see from a distance, it has more Chinese stall than Malay and Indian stall.  So sad.  And of course, when we reached there at 10pm, it has closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So where else?  We drove around the area and hey, we saw a &lt;strong&gt;Prata Cafe&lt;/strong&gt;!  &lt;em&gt;Why does anything &lt;strong&gt;cafe&lt;/strong&gt; sounds like something stylish?&lt;/em&gt;  Hehe.  So we stopped by the road and parked illegally.  I doubt the Traffic Police will come and give us a ticket, because they will have to give a whole loads of tickets because there were so many cars!&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/f79b889c.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/3700f5af.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/ddd767ef.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Just look at the menu!!  It has all sorts of pratas.  We didn't know which to choose.  The kids as usual (boring!) ordered egg prata.  So we ordered Tuna and Cheese Murtabak.  Yummy!!!  Very shiok!!!&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/d05d98db.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;It is a nice place for a late supper.  Really.  It's just along Botanic Gardens called Evans Road.  Go go! :D  It's also open 24 hours so you don't have to wait till night :p&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/07bba346.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7c38c3c0.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;After &lt;strong&gt;Prata Cafe&lt;/strong&gt;, we went to &lt;strong&gt;McCafe&lt;/strong&gt; at West Coast Park.  &lt;em&gt;(I love the sound of &lt;em&gt;Cafe&lt;/em&gt;.  Sounds like I'm in Paris!)&lt;/em&gt;You should drop by there once at night to feel the atmosphere.  It was past midnight but the crowd was as if we were in town rather than a quiet park.  And then I saw an old friend, Lela, whom I've known since I was 10.  I surprised myself by recognising and calling her name, because she doesn't look anything like I remember!  It was so nice meeting her.  The last time I saw her was 10 years ago on her wedding.  Time flies.  Besides the growth in the number of family members, we also grow sideways and all around.  Urgh!&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/1d54e15e.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Sorry the picture isn't so clear.  I did mention that it's past midnight, right? :p  Anyway, Lela, let's continue gossiping on MSN! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115613970669380172?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115613970669380172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115613970669380172&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115613970669380172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115613970669380172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/why-is-it-so-difficult-to-find-good.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115613886512226398</id><published>2006-08-18T13:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.828+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hubby took leave off work today and we spent the day swimming in the pool.  We have been going to JOM Clubhouse for at least thrice a month beginning this year.  We love the place so much because it's not crowded and it's free :D  It doesn't matter to my kids that the pool do not have those fun pool playground like the one at Jurong East, Choa Chu Kang or Wild Wild Wet.  As long as it has water and a simple slide, they love it.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/02ca206c.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/53ec40eb.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/8d0602c6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;We also dined at the newly opened (well, they opened about 3 months ago) Islamic Restaurant.  That place was also featured in Suria Segar a couple of weeks ago.  It claimed to serve the most original Beriyani, but I've tasted better.  The Singapura Bee Hoon was nice though.  They are quite generous with the ingredients.  Ambience-wise was ok but not many people were there.  In fact, we were the only family there.  Probably because the location isn't too convenient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/b864ef54.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/98e2bfa1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Anyway, we had fun, as always.  I love it when the kids played hard in the day and then slept early and soundly at night.  The problem is just to keep them stay awake from 7pm to bedtime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115613886512226398?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115613886512226398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115613886512226398&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115613886512226398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115613886512226398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/hubby-took-leave-off-work-today-and-we.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115575577832774278</id><published>2006-08-16T02:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.756+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I love to read.  And I do mean LOVE as in capitals L-O-V-E.  Whenever I have a free time, I'll definitely read.  I have to read when I'm on bed or else I can't sleep.  I read when I'm in between housework.  I read when I'm doing my business in the loo.  I read everywhere and anytime.  Doesn't matter what I'm reading as long as it has words.  Newspapers, novels, magazines and even bills.  Really.  Anything.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/93dd45a1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I'll get frustrated if there's nothing to read.  Especially if I'd just finished a novel and in a mood to read another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to buy novels.  But later realised that it's a waste of money because I'd want to read a new one everytime.  I don't really like to read a repeat.  Unless it's a damn good book.  And there's not much space for storage.  So I borrow books from the library..&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/62d0744f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Recently, I'm very picky in choosing books.  I used to love thrillers with a little bit of romance.  But now I prefer those humour, witty kind of stories.  And it's so difficult to find a good book from the library.  They have limited books from the same author.  I'd spend hours choosing a book.  And to bend my head to read the titles and authors on the book spine is a lot of hardwork!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So over the weekend, I happily went to a buy/rent kind of bookshop where they have lots of good books but I had trouble choosing too!  There were so many good ones that I didn't know which to choose!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's wrong with me?  Have love for reading make me insane?  I used to read whatever but now I'm very choosy.  So frustrated, you know!  So please, if you know any good humourous interesting kind of novels, tell me!  Quick!  Before I pull all my hair out of my head!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115575577832774278?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115575577832774278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115575577832774278&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115575577832774278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115575577832774278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-love-to-read.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115566957724472497</id><published>2006-08-15T02:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.685+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One important thing I love about hubby is despite his busy work and irregular working hours, he always spend quality time with us on the weekend.  The places we go to are mostly in the favour of the children.  But still, I'm grateful that he is always with us rather than having a husband who plays golf or go fishing or some other hobbies that we have no interest in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went to East Coast Park last week.  Twice in fact.  Diana made an incredible progress on the two-wheels bicycle ride.  She didn't know how to when she first started.  Now that she can, she's beginning to give hints to owning her own bicycle.  Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/15a6dd09.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Rayyan cycled his four-wheels, which was once upon a time belonged to his sister.  Heh.  They both enjoyed the time cycling, unlike their parents who had to walk, or rather chase them in case they fell off.  They had no idea what their high-speed riding and zig-zagging did to our heart.  Tsk.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7a96019c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Note: The next picture is for decoration purpose.  Wahaha.  Partly to show off the result from my free &lt;em&gt;two-times-replaced&lt;/em&gt; Olympus digicam.  And it really helps if the subject is oh-so-cute :D&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/c334e3f1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The weather was so nice and windy.  It was so relaxing I think we're going again very soon with a big mat to nap on.  While sitting by hubby's side looking out at the beach and at my two beautiful kids, I feel so happy and blessed I wanna cry :D (emotional lah!)&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/b47e7040.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;There are quite a number of restaurants near McDonald's.  I didn't realise it before.  Told you I'm slow.  Anyway I'm from the western side of Singapore so can't blame me :p  After our dinner at an Indonesian restaurant, we headed to Coffee Bean for dessert.  Compare to McCafe and Starbucks, Coffee Bean is still the best, don't you think?&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/f7f36e8e.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115566957724472497?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115566957724472497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115566957724472497&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115566957724472497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115566957724472497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/one-important-thing-i-love-about-hubby.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115549090212180209</id><published>2006-08-13T00:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.614+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I shall blog about SMS today.  SMS?  You know that short message service?  Via handphone?  Mobile phone?  Cell phone?  You know that text message?  Ah... that one :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, I have 500 free sms every month on my mobile phone subscription.  All incoming calls are free.  That is why I seldom make outgoing calls (unless I have to) and prefer to send sms instead.  Save money mah :p  And typing the messages on the screen is a breeze.  You type, send and wait for reply.  No talking.  Save ones energy.  But I don't mind talking for long on incoming calls.  So feel free to call me.  No, I'm not going to reveal my number here.  Are you mad or what?  Heehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok about SMS now.  How difficult is it to reply a message?  Especially when the expected reply would be "THANK YOU"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sent three birthday wishes via sms in the last week alone.  Not even one replied.  The most they could do was to send a "THANK YOU" isn't it?  Or even a "THKS".  Or if they're damn busy enough, a mere "TQ" is nice.  But nooo...  They read my message and then put their phones aside.  Didn't they realised that I was thinking of them on their special day?  Oh and er, yes my phone's alarm did remind me that it's someone's birthday that day.  But still, I'm THAT bothered to put a reminder on my phone.  I'm not going to bitch about them forgeting MY birthday because I know not everyone thinks that it is nice to put a smile on someone's face on their birthday.  Whereas me, I'll be very happy and touched to receive a birthday wish even though I've not heard from them for the past one year.  Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that you HAVE to remember my birthday.  It's just, well, it's nice you know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, out of the three birthday persons, one called me on the phone four days later.  She said sorry, she was busy with work, housework, hardwork, fireworks.  Yeah, ok.  At least she's kind enough to acknowledge my gesture.  I know she read my blog and that is why I have to say yeah Ju, ok, it's fine, really.  Don't worry, &lt;em&gt;aku tak marah&lt;/em&gt;.  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;*padahal tak nak geng ah!*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there you go.  *Er, I've nothing to say anymore.  Can I just stop and leave?* :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115549090212180209?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115549090212180209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115549090212180209&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115549090212180209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115549090212180209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-shall-blog-about-sms-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115540760481114870</id><published>2006-08-12T02:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.536+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hmmm...  Hmmm...  Ish!  Where do I start now?  I've been neglecting this blog for a few days (yeah ok a few weeks) and I don't know where to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...  Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should leave it like this so that I can really start tomorrow.  You know, like get the ball rolling?  Yes, I'll start tomorrow.  For sure.  Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, it's not only for you to read (you can if you want to) but it's also for my own future reference (duh!  like there's anything important to refer to).  And also for my children and their children and their children and so on.  You know, so that they will know what their great-great-great grandmother were up to a long long time ago.   But at this rate I'm blogging, they will have to insert a lot of imagination to figure out what I've been up to.  Provided blogspot still exist lah.  Who knows maybe in future, like year 2106, they will even have a more stylo mylo computer with internet that comes out from their watches?  Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tomorrow then.  Even though at this moment, the ideas to blog have rush to my brain.  (Told you I need a ball to roll)  But I'll keep it for tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115540760481114870?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115540760481114870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115540760481114870&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115540760481114870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115540760481114870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/08/hmmm.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115402146770950834</id><published>2006-07-28T01:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.443+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bqj-n0IG1Ik"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Bqj-n0IG1Ik" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Because Of You - Kelly Clarkson&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm slow.  I'm always slow in these kind of things.  Hehe.  I love this song.  I love the storyline.  It's currently the top hits in my list of songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's sing together now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115402146770950834?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115402146770950834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115402146770950834&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115402146770950834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115402146770950834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/07/because-of-you-kelly-clarkson-i-know.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115366871894856372</id><published>2006-07-23T23:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.358+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We went to Angsana Resort &amp; Spa at Bintan last Thursday.  Just me and hubby.  I was excited (what else is new?!) because it IS the first time I've ever been to Bintan.  Despite the comfortable and pleasant surrounding in the ferry, I didn't fail to feel nauseous.  I always have a problem with motion sickness.  As long as anything I'm stepping on moves, my head will spin like nobody's business.  Thank God it was only an hour ride.  I'd faint if it takes more than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/c6ff5ce5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;So they say there are 101 things to do in Bintan.  Really ah?  Well, let me see...  First, we arrived early and couldn't check into our room till two and half hours later.  So we dipped in the pool and later in the sea.  Frankly, I'd rather stay in the pool.  I know I'm a boring person but I hate to have the sand on my wet feet.  I kept asking hubby if there're crabs in the sea.  I mean, there could be, right?  It's the sea afterall and there's where crabs swim!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We used our goggles and when I looked into the water (the sea), I saw fishes swimming around my legs!  I became hysterical.  I shouted for hubby which was a few metres away, also looking into the water.  He thought I was excited upon seeing the fishes and he dived in again to take a look.  HELLO!!!  I was asking for help, you you you...!!!  I reached for him and climbed all over him.  I don't want no fishes eating me alive!  Urgh!  So he carried me (yes carried :p because we were in the water and apparently I'm much much lighter in there) out of the water (I walked the rest of the way to the beach chair :p) and grumbled about me being lousy and scaredycat blah blah blah.  I don't care.  I'd rather see him in the sea than being in it myself.  Heh.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/b62394d0.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/3d4b4028.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/cdf944fa.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;After checking into our room, we went to the spa.  Yes!  I am so suaku I've never been to a spa before.  And it was heaven!  We chose the outdoor treatment room and it was beautiful.  The rooms are created for couples and the spa treatment was done at the same time.  So nice...&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/d95500d4.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/c390d5e0.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/e80d3fcf.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The service at Angsana was excellent.  We're surprised that all the staff there can communicate in VERY fluent English.  Everyone are warm and friendly and they made us feel welcome.  The best service we've ever had.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/d61bb9c8.jpg" /&gt;  &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/e4be9618.jpg" /&gt;  &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/e07cdf08.jpg" /&gt;  &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/62d27b95.jpg" /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;So by the second day, after we had our snorkeling (I wasn't as afraid as the first day then) and jet skiing, we ran out of things to do.  True there are other sea sports activities, but really, they don't come cheap.  So we went to the pool again, and again, and again.  By then, we missed our kids :-(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To wrap things up, the getaway was very relaxing.  But I imagined, it will be more fun with our kids.  The 3D/2N trip was just enough.  Another day there and we will die of boredom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Hubby, thanks for Bintan.  It was a pleasure to be at your service.  Wakaka.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115366871894856372?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115366871894856372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115366871894856372&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115366871894856372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115366871894856372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/07/we-went-to-angsana-resort-spa-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115324798219603094</id><published>2006-07-19T02:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.284+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I love July.  I also love December.  Why?  Why else!  They're bonus months!  Wahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After returning from the States, Hubby told me that we should go for a quick getaway sometime soon.  You know, to compensate his absence.  When he said &lt;em&gt;we&lt;/em&gt;, he meant the four of us.  But to my ears, he meant only two.  Wahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it's months away to the next school holidays, we thought of getting away now.  So there's already a good excuse not to bring the kids since it's a school term.  Good plan, huh? :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/1600/angsana1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/320/angsana1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Can't wait to be here, where I can laze around without looking out for my kids playing in the pool.  I've been wanting to fall asleep in a beach chair with the sun shining on me.  I'll bring a book, but I doubt I'll read.  Maybe I should get a tan, to make myself look like a black diva.  Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/1600/angsana2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/320/angsana2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Can't wait to be in this room, too.  I bet I won't mind hubby's snoring when I can hear the waves singing in the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooooh!  Can't wait for tomorrow!  *dreams away*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115324798219603094?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115324798219603094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115324798219603094&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115324798219603094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115324798219603094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-love-july.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115314072391918396</id><published>2006-07-17T20:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.206+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Whenever we see pictures of a family of animals, for example a mummy bear and a baby bear, the kids and I will usually go "Oh look!  There's Mummy and Rayyan!" or if the baby bear isn't a baby anymore, meaning a child, we'll go "Oh look!  There's Mummy and Diana!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same goes to any other animals.  Recently my son and I were walking by a bus-stop and there's poster of a mummy orang-utan and her baby hugging one another.  So I went "Oh look, Rayyan!  That's the mummy and her baby.  It's like Mummy (point to myself) and Rayyan, right?"  And he smiled widely and said "yes, same same!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one day the four of us were watching Animal Planet when they showed the life of elephants.  There were many sizes of elephants, so we point to one that is the biggest as Daddy.  And then the smaller one is Mummy followed by much smaller ones as Diana and Rayyan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elephants rolled in the mud playing happily and the smaller ones pushing each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Diana&lt;/strong&gt; : Yucks!  You see that's me and Rayyan playing in the mud.  Very dirty, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : Hehe... But it looks fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Diana &lt;/strong&gt;: Hey, Rayyan pushed me! (the scene showed a smaller elephant pushing a slightly bigger one)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me and Hubby&lt;/strong&gt; : Haha haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of a sudden, the older elephants were mating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Diana &lt;/strong&gt;: Haha!  Haha!!  You see!!  Daddy piggy back on Mummy!  Haha!  Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me and Hubby &lt;/strong&gt;: Haha!  Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Diana &lt;/strong&gt;: Is Daddy heavy or not, Mummy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me &lt;/strong&gt;: Haha ya lah very heavy.  Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rayyan &lt;/strong&gt;: ???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115314072391918396?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115314072391918396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115314072391918396&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115314072391918396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115314072391918396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/07/whenever-we-see-pictures-of-family-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115281133113467000</id><published>2006-07-13T00:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.132+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes I forgot that my daughter is only 8.  When I scold her for the silly things she does, I'll realise afterwards that that was just the thing an 8 year olds do.  At times, I seem to expect her to be more mature than her age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, she was late to school.  She had an art class to attend, earlier than the normal school timing.  My son wasn't cooperative so I told her to walk to school by herself, which wasn't done before.  The walk to school takes about 15 minutes.  It isn't far but it isn't near either.  She was reluctant at first but because I persuaded and after some reminders about traffic lights and strangers, she was confident enough to give it a try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not 10 minutes after she left, I broke down and cry.  Images of helpless small girls being abducted flashed through my mind.  How could I leave her to walk to school by herself?  She's only 8!  I quickly put my son in his stroller and decided to run after her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a dramatic scene.  I ran as fast as I could while pushing the stroller.  All the time I was crying.  I saw her walking quite a distance, under the hot morning sun.  I knew if I called out to her she wouldn't hear me.  Looking at her small figure, I couldn't control my tears.  I regretted sending her off by herself.  I will never do that again, not for a few more years.  I kept thinking what if I lose her.  I can never ever imagine my life without her.  I'd rather die than losing any of my children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost sight of her when she neared the school.  I waited for her call because I told her to call me once she's reached school.  When she did 10 minutes later (it felt longer than that!), I was so relieved I told her over and over again how much I love her.  She laughed as if I'm silly.  Yeah, right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I overreacted.  Maybe I wasn't confident as her.  But I only have myself to blame if anything happened to her.  For now, I thank God for keeping her safe on her walk alone to school today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115281133113467000?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115281133113467000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115281133113467000&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115281133113467000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115281133113467000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/07/sometimes-i-forgot-that-my-daughter-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115158186890564775</id><published>2006-06-29T19:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:51.057+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So hubby came home after two weeks of Boston.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure you've seen those movies where the hero went to war, or fight the bad guys, or tried to save the world?  How macho they are and all that?  And at the end of the movie he would go to his partner and kissed (and melt) and live happily ever after?  My point is, how macho and strong they seem to be, it's still us (the girls) they look (read:need) for at the end of the day.  Ha ha!  See now who's got the power? :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't realise what two weeks of absence can do to him.  But I like it!  Wahaha.  But!!!  *car screeching sound effect*  It's back to old routine now.  He's back at work, and as usual I will call him maybe around 9pm or 10pm later to show my unhappiness that he's late.  And as usual *again*, he will appear at the doorstep maybe around 11pm.  *sigh*  I told you some things remain unchanged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/c7394f49.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A day before his return, I went to straightened my hair.  Yipee!  I like!  What I need to do now is to keep it longer and make my face slimmer.  And the body, too.  Yup.  Time to lose some (read:a lot) weight.  Exercise.  As if.  Hah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/44447cee.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/3a9180d0.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/89cfaa47.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/5148d542.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Ok, gotta go now.  Like I said, it's back to old routine.  Holiday is over!  Move it!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115158186890564775?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115158186890564775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115158186890564775&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115158186890564775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115158186890564775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/06/so-hubby-came-home-after-two-weeks-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115099518457729409</id><published>2006-06-22T00:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.969+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My beautiful darling daughter celebrated her 8th birthday yesterday.  She requested to spend the day with her best friend months before.  At first, when she told me she wanted to invite her class, I nearly fainted.  What?  29 of them?  No no no.  I can't do it.  Imagine the food that I have to prepare.  The noise.  The chaos.  No no no.  So she settled for only one friend.  Her best.  And her closest family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So since Daddy isn't around, Mummy tried her very best to make the day as fun and joyful as she deserves.  We went to Downtown East and spent the time at Wild Wild Wet.  It was so so fun!  You know that big pail of Yakult filled with water?  (third picture)  When it's tilted, it pours out a whole load of water down.  I managed to position myself right below at the centre and sat there for a while.  It was so very very shiok!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok so now I forgot that this entry is suppose to be about my daughter.  Haha.  Yeah, she had fun, too :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/bdc9aedc.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/b6ad2842.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/fa3805ec.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Sometimes I can't believe that she's all grown up.  Sometimes I can't even believe that I have an 8 year old daughter.  So fast?  That big?  What?  But, I'm still young what?!!  Eh?  Huh??!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/de327d95.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/218a6321.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/9441c13d.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;After playing at the pool, we headed to Explorer Kid (a must pay by hourly kid's playground).  The girls had so much fun that they nearly fell asleep on the short drive back to her grandmother's house where we had Pizza/KFC and cut her birthday cake.  The day was wrapped up with the opening of presents.  She got a Barbie watch from me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my darling, Princess Diana, I'm so happy that you enjoyed your day.  I pray that you will grow up to be a good girl and be a good example to your younger brother.  And don't ever forget to respect your elders.  And listen to your parents.  Especially me.  Muahahaha!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday, Darling!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115099518457729409?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115099518457729409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115099518457729409&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115099518457729409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115099518457729409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/06/my-beautiful-darling-daughter.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115082276165208780</id><published>2006-06-20T23:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.891+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/ba3017b4.jpg" align="right" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;Remember the free Olympus camera I'll get for subscribing cable tv and recontracting my mobile line?  I've collected it today.  I was so happy.  But as it turns out, it couldn't work.  Damn.  My fault for not trying it on the spot.  Who would've thought that a brand new OLYMPUS camera may not be working???  Stupid stupid me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to think that I've planned it nicely to collect it today so that I can use it tomorrow since it's my girl's 8th birthday!  We have a great plan tomorrow and I couldn't even capture it on a camera!  I am so disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disappointment aside, we had an enjoyable night karaoke-ing.  The last time I met Nong and Neo was in September last year.  We've been planning to sing our hearts out for a long time and today seems to be a perfect day to do since it's Neo's birthday.  Happy Birthday, Dude!  (Forgot to take a picture of him though, but I took a few shots of Nong and my girl using my ever dependable Sony Ericsson k750i, which is actually new cos I got it when I recontracted my line.  My previous exact phone is with Hubby).  And if you're wondering if the extra 2 kids belong to Nong, no they're not.  They're Linda's, my friend who joined us for supper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/e52dc357.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/5dac2910.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/6c81fee2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I recorded a song I sang duet with Nong and I thought it would be nice to put it up here, but unfortunately I'm unable to change the type of file.  This, too, is a disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there you have it.  My Tuesday.  My girl and I enjoyed it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115082276165208780?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115082276165208780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115082276165208780&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115082276165208780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115082276165208780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/06/remember-free-olympus-camera-ill-get.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115073163511551580</id><published>2006-06-19T22:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.814+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Terus terang saya katakan, saya tidak pernah menonton Anugerah Skrin.  Malah saya juga tidak tahu siapakah peserta-peserta rancangan cungkil bakat itu.  Tetapi oleh kerana kebosanan, saya telah menonton rancangan itu buat pertama kalinya hari ini pada malam pusingan terakhir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/fe918d2a.jpg" align="left" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;Saya kagum.  Bukan kagum dengan peserta.  Bukan kagum dengan pengadil.  Juga bukan kagum dengan artis undangan.  Tetapi saya kagum dengan hadiahnya.  Pemenang akan berpeluang berlakon di dalam filem dan drama-drama keluaran Skop Production.  Bukankah itu hadiah yang lumayan?  Sedangkan mereka yang sudah bergelar pelakon pun ada yang masih tidak berpeluang ke Malaysia.  Apa lagi untuk berlakon dalam terbitan Skop Production.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7988e708.jpg" align="right" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;Saya sungguh gembira kerana Nurhuda telah memenangi tempat pertama.  Walaupun saya mengharapkan Shah Iskandar untuk menang di samping Nurhuda, tetapi beliau gagal dan ternyata M.Shahril yang telah mendapat lebih undian.  Pada pendapat saya, Shah lebih layak berlakon watak utama di dalam filem berdasarkan cinta.  Tidak dinafikan, beliau kacak dan wajahnya dapat menawan penonton.  Lakonannya memainkan watak Awie dalam filem Sembilu begitu menarik perhatian saya.  Dan jika beliau dipadankan dengan Nurhuda, saya rasa filem itu akan laris.  Mungkin tidak selaris filem lakonan Erra Fazira tetapi itulah yang peminat harapkan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walau bagaimana pun, saya, seperti penonton-penonton yang lain, akan sabar menantikan berita selanjutnya menjelang kemenangan mereka.  Congratulations to the winners!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Cheh, macam lah diorang tu baca blog aku!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/37d42f88.jpg" align="right" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;Speaking of Sembilu, apa kah cerita di sebalik penceraian Erra/Yusry?  Siapa tahu, sila bagitahu.  Terima kasih.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another news, my sayang Olympus digicam, hadiah hari lahir ku yang lalu oleh suamiku tersayang, camera yang aku tunggu punya tunggu untuk dapat, yang kini sedang berada di Boston America, walaupun ketika itu aku berat untuk melepaskannya pergi merantau jauh, telah jatuh terhempas.  Aku sungguh marah.  Sekarang the zoomed lens tak boleh tutup.  Aku marah.  Tapi aku sabar.  Tak guna marah marah sekarang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KANG DIA BALIK HARI AHAD NI SIAP DIA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sekian.  Harap maklum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115073163511551580?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115073163511551580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115073163511551580&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115073163511551580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115073163511551580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/06/terus-terang-saya-katakan-saya-tidak.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115038381182842883</id><published>2006-06-15T22:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.648+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dear Mom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry I didn't show much concern when you're unwell.  I'm sorry I didn't call you on the phone 10 times a day just to ask how you are.  I'm sorry I didn't visit you and I'm sorry if you think I neglected you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know your friend's daughter called her mom that many times a day.  I know that her mom is the caregiver of her child when she's at work.  I know that she goes to her mom's place after work to collect her child and to have dinner.  I know they will see each other every day.  I also know she's very close to her mom and you wish for that closeness with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Mom, do you know how much I tried to be close to you?  Do you know that everytime I talk to you, you turned a lecturer?  You never failed to attack me.  I'm always the bad one when I actually bear a good news.  You didn't even try to share my happiness.  You lectured me instead about being grateful.  You reminded me again and again that my happiness is not an eternity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know all that, Mom.  I'm an adult now.  I'm not a kid anymore whom you can move around with your little fingers.  I don't want to be told what to do anymore.  Do you know why I seldom visit you?  Do you why I flinch everytime an unlisted number appear on my phone screen and it could be you?  It's because I hate being under your control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't you be happy with me and what I've become?  Why can't you at least try to be my friend?  I'd love us to become friends like some of my friends and their moms.  I wish for that closeness, too, you know.  I'd love to call you on the phone and talk to you long hours about our everyday lives.  I'd love to share my worries and pains with you.  I'd love to laugh and cry with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm rude sometimes.  I know I raised my voice at you.  I tried hard not to talk back at you, I really did.  But I couldn't help it.  I'm so sorry.  I just wish that I won't feel upset everytime you called me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But despite all these, please know that I love you.  You are, afterall, my MOM.  Nobody loves you like I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From me with love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.  Mom, I hope you will pray that my children will be kind to me instead of waiting for the same thing (you and me) to happen to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115038381182842883?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115038381182842883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115038381182842883&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115038381182842883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115038381182842883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/06/dear-mom-im-sorry-i-didnt-show-much.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-115025309736663689</id><published>2006-06-14T10:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.573+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's been 4 days since hubby left to work at the other side of the world.  How do I feel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't miss him THAT much yet.  Sure we miss him when he's not around to finish off our food (we call him vacuum cleaner).  Sure we miss him when I have to carry the rubbish out from the house into the rubbish chute outside myself (we also call him Ministry of Environment).  Sure we miss him when we see lizards lurking around in the kitchen or the crazy flying insect slamming it's body here and there on the walls (we also call him - hubby, not insects, pest control).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I haven't miss him in a way a wife should miss her husband when he's away.  Reason being as simple as I'm well trained.  At least this time around, we can communicate through email and messenger.  That one time he went to Nepal for nearly 4 weeks, we were unable to communicate at all since he was busy climbing mountains and there was no network for sms-es.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If he's not away, he'll also &lt;em&gt;still &lt;/em&gt;be away most of the day when he's home.  He is suppose to work normal office hours but he keeps abnormal working hours.  Sometimes I see him for only an hour a day - not counting his sleeping time.  That is why I treasure weekends with him.  (So you know now why I always decline for meet-the-fans-session on weekends :p)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while hubby is away, I keep myself busy.  With world cup.  Wahaha.  I finally get ourselves a digital cable tv.  Very slow aren't we?  And with the recent promotion, I also recontracted my mobile and get myself a FREE 8mp Olympus digicam.  Cool huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, since I'm the official sole owner of the car for these 2 weeks, I've been given some tasks to fulfill.  Duh.  One of them is to send it for servicing.  This is what happened in the cab on the way back from sending the car to the agent (car will be ready at the end of the working day).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me : Bukit Panjang, please.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taxi Driver : Which way you want me to go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me : In front turn right to Farrer then PIE.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took out my mobile phone to reply to my sister-in-law's earlier sms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taxi Driver : Just now this road got traffic jam.  I don't know why but got no accident.  The cars all didn't move.  Just stop don't know why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me : *continue with sms*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taxi Driver : This road ah I don't know why they make until so high.  They do this road until so long get ready but now become so high.  No need so high mah.  In front also the road go down already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me : Huh? *blur*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taxi Driver : I don't know what the government doing.  Take our money but do all this thing not necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me : *finish sms but start to sms to another friend*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taxi Driver : If we never pay, they give us &lt;em&gt;saman&lt;/em&gt;.  If we pay they do all funny funny thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me : *start to think of another person to sms*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taxi Driver : I tell you ah, the world very funny.  They not happy they change.  They happy they also change.  Make people confuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me : *lermark dekni bila nak habis bebual sendiri seh?*&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taxi Driver : Blah blah blah blah blah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok the point is, some people do talk a lot, eh?  Even if the other party seems not to be listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if hubby thinks that of me.  Because most of the time, I'm the only one talking.  Now I know why I only received two email replies from him so far when I sent quite a number to him.  Tsk tsk tsk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-115025309736663689?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/115025309736663689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=115025309736663689&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115025309736663689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/115025309736663689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/06/its-been-4-days-since-hubby-left-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114983748593770670</id><published>2006-06-09T14:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.502+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Some women found a best friend in her husband.  Some found a husband in her best friend.  But what if you thought you have a best friend in your husband but then...&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;... you're wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if you think he knows everything about you but he disappoints you at the time you least expected?  And then you show your unhappiness but he acts ignorance and lets you deal with it yourself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's quite frustrating really.  It's even more so when you know you have to live with it for the rest of your life.  Some things remain unchanged.  Indeed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114983748593770670?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114983748593770670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114983748593770670&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114983748593770670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114983748593770670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/06/some-women-found-best-friend-in-her.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114974759876740728</id><published>2006-06-08T13:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/1600/P4010407.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/320/P4010407.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate unlisted phone numbers.  Be it mobile, home or office phone numbers.  What &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; their problem to have unlisted numbers?  One thing I'm sure of, the reason I will need an unlisted number is to make prank calls, which I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate to receive unlisted number calls.  Everytime I see WITHHELD on my mobile phone screen, I will shiver.  Not in cold but in fear.  Fear that the caller could be the bank, insurance company, some organisations asking for donations or even make easy money scam personnel.  Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I cannot not answer those WITHHELD calls because my parents and my parents-in-law have it, too.  So it's really like a fear-love relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom for instance.  She would call me at the time when it's inconvenient for me to answer.  When I checked my phone later, it is WITHHELD.  I can't know who called, right?  She would try me again but, again, it's inconvenient for me to answer.  Hey, I could be in the toilet or scalling the fish or washing the poo off my boy's butt ok?  And then when she finally get hold of me, she would nag and nag and nag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Kalau apa-apa terjadi pada mak babah macam mana?  Asik tak jawab talipon ajer!"&lt;br /&gt;"Kalaulah mak mati, agaknya dah reput badan baru dia tahu!"&lt;br /&gt;"Asik tak jawab talipon ajer?  Hutang tailong ke apa ni?"&lt;br /&gt;"Kalau mak mati, dah kebumikan baru nak melawat!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents-in-law is different story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Where have you been?"&lt;br /&gt;"What were you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;"Are the kids alright?"&lt;br /&gt;"I thought something happened to you that's why no answer"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's quite frustrating really.  If I can know the caller, I would've called the caller back right?  So it's a two-way thing.  You frustrated, I frustrated.  You happy, I happy.  If they listed their numbers, I can definitely screen my calls.  I don't have to live in fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least Linda is now smart enough to key in certain codes so that when she calls me, I can see her smiling face on my phone screen.  She got an earful from me once, you see.  Heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114974759876740728?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114974759876740728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114974759876740728&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114974759876740728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114974759876740728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-hate-unlisted-phone-numbers.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114966087447850577</id><published>2006-06-07T13:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.359+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This incident happened two weekends ago at a certain popular large bookstore in Orchard Road area.  My girl and I were standing last in line to go to the restroom.  There were about 8 ladies in the line.  Because it isn't as large as the bookstore, we were forced to stand outside the restroom and wait, in my girl's case, impatiently since she was kind of in a hurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right next to where we were standing was another door to the handicapped toilet.  There is also another door next to it for baby (diaper) changing room, which in this story is not relevant.  So anyway, the handicapped toilet glass door was slightly ajar and there's a hand holding it opened from inside, which turned out to be a woman cleaner.  She was just about to finish cleaning the toilet, with a tong in her other hand.  She looked at us and gestured us to use the handicapped toilet since she saw that my girl was jumping left and right.  I smiled at her thankfully and both of us went in to do our business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were washing our hands in the facility provided in that room (not more than 5 minutes I believe - there were two of us you know), suddenly there were three very loud knocks coming from the glass door.  The sound of a metal and glass knocking onto another.  &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TONG!! TONG!! TONG!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;  My girl and I jumped out of our skin because it was so damn bloody loud for us in that small handicap room.  I believe it was the cleaner whom I remember was holding a metal tong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I yanked the door opened and glared at her.  Really glared.  She nearly killed me and my girl with the loud knocks.  Then she pointed to a real handicapped in a wheelchair man behind her.  I thought, so what?  Just because I'm not handicapped and I'm using a handicapped room, I have to give way to a real handicapped?  I have to stop my business halfway (the cleaner didn't know if we're done, did she?) to accomodate a real handicapped person?  Oh please!  She was the one who gestured us to use the room at the first place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still glaring at the cleaner, I turned to the handicapped man and his wife (she was at the wheelchair handlebar) and was about to give them an apologetic smile when the wife nagged in Mandarin about what were we doing so long in a handicapped room when there's an able restroom for us to use blah blah blah and that they have been waiting for us to come out blah blah blah.  Maybe she thought I didn't understand her.  She was acting as if the world must give way to her husband just because he's a handicapped.  I was so shocked by their (she and the cleaner) behavior because I believe, we were in there for less than 5 minutes.  Why can't they wait for a little while more so that we can finish our business?  I'm not heartless but I was there first.  I'd have said sorry to keep them waiting.  But no, they had to spat at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I glared at the wife and the cleaner.  I don't usually feel angry at strangers but that I can't tolerate.  They may think I was irresponsible or whatever they want to think, but I feel that if they would have been nicer, I would have said sorry and helped them with the heavy glass door.  I am always passionate with the unfortunate ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I believe the whole thing was triggered by that loud knocks on that glass door.  Others may curse or voice out their unhappiness but what I did was just glared and walked away with whatever pride I have left cos A LOT of people waiting in line were watching.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114966087447850577?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114966087447850577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114966087447850577&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114966087447850577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114966087447850577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/06/this-incident-happened-two-weekends.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114901527298835752</id><published>2006-05-31T02:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.290+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What's with the Singapore Idol hosts hugging the contestants about?  I say there's too much hugging lah dey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't see Ryan Seacrest hugging that much.  Our SI hosts are taking the task too seriously.  Brotherly advice?  Urgh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, I've yet to see anyone outstanding.  I don't believe we have a Jaclyn Victor in this season.  Not even a Taufik Batisah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I look forward to the next show, though.  Urgh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114901527298835752?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114901527298835752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114901527298835752&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114901527298835752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114901527298835752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/whats-with-singapore-idol-hosts.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114870122937468256</id><published>2006-05-26T11:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I swear it was the noisiest night.  Really.  I always give that sidelong glances to the next table when they laugh and talk so loud.  But last night, it was us receiving the glances.  But of course, yours truly always laugh like a &lt;em&gt;wanita melayu terakhir&lt;/em&gt;.  Ehem.  It was them!  Them!!  Oh, not you Lisa, since you are less than one-sixth of their sizes, and you couldn't have &lt;em&gt;THAT&lt;/em&gt; much air in your lung to laugh and talk like them :p  It was just them.  The three of them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/1600/P5261664.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/320/P5261664.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We met at Plaza Singapura's Swensen's.  Despite the noises, I had a great fun.  I knew we were going to have a wonderful time when we met.  And I was right.  Thank you, girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've uploaded the pictures into my album (multiply).  I'm not gonna put many up here anymore because some people prefer to read than visit a gallery.  But personally, I think reading a blog without pictures are boring, don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is why, I've &lt;em&gt;suddenly &lt;/em&gt;decided to put up a few more pictures here.  The heck with them!  Mwahaha!&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/9828fe51.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/f64b5b39.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/a96ec03f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/a50907e9.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/5c189802.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/d6a7f200.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Since it's my blog, I can put up as many of my pictures as I like.  Kan, kengkawan? :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114870122937468256?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114870122937468256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114870122937468256&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114870122937468256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114870122937468256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/i-swear-it-was-noisiest-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114837350224898170</id><published>2006-05-23T16:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.148+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Eh!  Mamat ni!  Aku suka lah!  Aku suka!  Aku suka!!!  AKU SUKA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RlINO1swYcQ"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RlINO1swYcQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114837350224898170?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114837350224898170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114837350224898170&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114837350224898170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114837350224898170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/eh-mamat-ni-aku-suka-lah-aku-suka-aku.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114797474888008960</id><published>2006-05-19T01:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:50.077+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Once there was a poor man.  He had a girlfriend.  She was very beautiful.  And she was very rich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, the poor man wanted to go out with his girlfriend.  The poor man wanted to fetch his girlfriend, but he has no money to take a taxi.  So he walked to her house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On his way, the poor man saw a group of old men.  There was a mountain of stones in the centre.  One of the old man said that there was a bird inside the mountain of stones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took a stick from the ground and dig out the stones.  He saw the bird lying on the ground.  He picked the bird up and the old men clap their hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The poor man felt sad for the bird but he know he had done a good deed.  This was his happiest day of his life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Written by Diana, 8 years old)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114797474888008960?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114797474888008960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114797474888008960&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114797474888008960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114797474888008960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/once-there-was-poor-man.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114771525119902603</id><published>2006-05-16T00:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:49.926+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/1600/DIA.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/320/DIA.1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aduuuh...  Cepat amat sinetron DIA udah tamat.  Gue baru mulain nonton bulan yang lalu.  Selama ini emang gue nggak minat sih.  Lembab ah.  Tapi setelah di kenalin oleh rakan-rakan, gue coba lihat.  Lho, kok cantik-cantik eksesoris si Fifi.  Gue sukak!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jadi gue mula nonton.  Aduh, hebat ya sinetron DIA.  Gue sukak.  Tapi hari ini udah tamat.  Gue nggak sukak ah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ceritanya dari mula gue di fahamin amat panjang, tapi akhirnya kok kayak &lt;em&gt;short-cut&lt;/em&gt;?  Apain nih?  Aduh, gue bisa jadi gila kayak Fifi.  Tiba-tiba Fifi dipenjara.  Tidak di kasi tahu bagaimana dia di tangkap polisi.  Dan Susi pula, apa kesudahannya?  Gue pusing!  Gue nggak sukak cerita yang di suruh pikirin.  Gue mahu terang-tang-tang punya.  Wakaka!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bagaimanapun, mulai minggu depan, udah nggak ada cerita mahu di tonton.  Itu Desperate Housewives gue nggak sukak.  Kerna udah banyak gue miss.  Benci ah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114771525119902603?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114771525119902603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114771525119902603&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114771525119902603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114771525119902603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/aduuuh.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114754322648755646</id><published>2006-05-13T01:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:49.788+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here she is.  The woman who gave birth to me.  Who felt nausea throughout the whole of 9 months while I was in her belly.  Yes all of the 9 months.  She loves to repeat the story after 32 years, just to make me feel bad.  Or maybe she wants to feel appreciated.  Duh.  Like as if I didn't feel nausea while I was pregnant myself.  Haha.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/69aec03e.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;It's been my longtime wish to have dinner together out of the house.  There were always changes, inconveniences and so on.  So I made plans as early as three weeks ago to have dinner tonight.  It's Mother's Day weekend so the timing couldn't be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Straits Kitchen again.  No, that's not right.  I went again.  They've not been there before.  I'm glad that I made a good choice.  My parents love the food spread, atmosphere and of course, ehem, the company.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/6f13417a.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/2aaa0cda.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/23afb309.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/8b584c37.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/fbf1005b.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/59cdfbfb.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The outing wouldn't be much merrier without these two kids.  While the adults were busy eating and going to and fro the buffet spread, the kids ran about the place knocking some chairs and tables.  I'm so glad their daddy was patient enough to entertain them because their mummy is, er, busy playing the good daughter.  Haha.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/53e89bc8.jpg" /&gt;      &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/2e60caa9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The above right picture was taken just to compare with the left one.  Haha.  Any similiarity besides the pose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I'm glad that my parents had a good time tonight.  The look on their faces shows how happy they are being with us.  I know they wish they can spend more time with us.  I also know that I should spend more time with them especially now at their age.  I will try.  I will definitely try harder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Mother's Day to every Mothers!  Including me :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114754322648755646?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114754322648755646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114754322648755646&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114754322648755646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114754322648755646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/here-she-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114736823560532296</id><published>2006-05-12T00:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:49.720+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Aaaargh!  Chris Daughtry is voted out!  &lt;em&gt;Kwaja ah diorang diorang yang tak &lt;/em&gt;vote for him!  How can?  Are they deaf?  He has a very nice singing voice.  His voice quality is so good that I've been looking forward to watch and listen to him sing every week, except yesterday when I was busy ehem shopping.  That is why maybe he didn't sing that well.  My absence made him lose concentration :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I see no reason for me to watch American Idol this season anymore.  Especially if that white-hair guy becomes the final two.  I just can't watch him do his moves.  He has a weird funny kind of move that at first I thought he's retarded and they sympathized with him and for popularity reason they brought him to the next and next and next rounds.  But now it seems that the people there love him, eh.  Aiyoh!  Bad bad taste.  Now at least there is Catherine McPhee.  She has beautiful ehem stuffs to watch.  Yeah, girls do look at girls.  And no, that doesn't mean we're gay.  Duh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So did you watch Supernanny?  &lt;em&gt;Mak cow!&lt;/em&gt;  The kids are so naughty!  I lose my temper everytime I watch that show.  How can the parents be so patient???  Being called a bitch and a fat cow by your own kid?  How can they tolerate with that kind of behaviour everytime???  I don't know if Supernanny's style will change them for good.  They only show till about 3 weeks after Supernanny's guidance.  Yeah, good luck to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/1600/image0018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/320/image0018.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So speaking of bad words, my girl has been asking me what is the meaning of &lt;em&gt;"Fuck you"&lt;/em&gt;.  Urgh!  How to answer?  I asked her where did she learn that word and she said she saw it in her school bus, which apparently not only transport school children but bad-words spoken people as well.  And we saw a scribble somewhere with that word, too.  I don't know what to tell her but I said it's a bad word.  And I am not to hear that word being spoken by her at all.  And if I hear it, I will put a &lt;em&gt;chilli padi&lt;/em&gt; in her mouth and make her chew it.  &lt;em&gt;Padan muka dia!  Mwahaha!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And before all of you scream brutalities about her picture, let me tell you that my girl was innocently showing off her ring on that middle finger.  What were you thinking???  Tsk!!!  &lt;em&gt;*geleng kepala*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114736823560532296?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114736823560532296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114736823560532296&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114736823560532296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114736823560532296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/aaaargh-chris-daughtry-is-voted-out.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114728906826182649</id><published>2006-05-11T03:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:49.652+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/1600/image0016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/320/image0016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wahai makcik-makcik dan minah-minah sekalian. Sudahkah anda membeli kain untuk dibuat baju kurung sempena Aidilfitri yang akan menjelang lima bulan lagi? Heehee. Dengarlah nasihat saya. Pergi lah beli. Tak lama lagi tailor-tailor dah tak nak ambik order, oi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saya dan teman seperjuangan saya, iaitu Imah, telah ke Arab Street semalam untuk bertemu dengan Aladdin. Walaupun nama beliau sebenarnya ialah Latif. Wahaha. Beliau telah melayan kami dengan begitu ramah sekali. Mungkin kerana teman saya si Imah tu adalah regular customer. Sampai mak sedara, anak sedara dan adik beradik sedara Imah semua si Latif tu kenal. Dengan itu, saya juga si Latif tu dah kenal. Dan menjadi members. Lagi-lagi bila kain-kain yang saya padankan pada badan saya semuanya dia kata lawa. Dah tu dia puji pulak saya lawa. Wahaha. &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/6467122f.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/1ec89c20.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/61258770.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Seronok sungguh berbelanja dengan Imah. Dia memang pandai memuji saya supaya saya terbeli kain-kain itu. Mungkin kerana dia rasa seronok berbelanja, walaupun yang keluar duit adalah saya. Macam tumpang gembira gitu. Tak habis-habis dia menyarankan pada saya kain ini dan kain itu. Semuanya dia kata lawa untuk saya. Ish ish ish. Tapi saya cekalkan hati tak nak beli banyak-banyak. Kerana sebenarnya saya cuma pakai baju kurung untuk Hari Raya dan jemputan kahwin saja. Tak macam dia. Setiap majlis mesti memakai baju baru. Ish ish ish. &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/71413209.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/b37023a4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Lihatlah kain songket warna coklat ini. Saya terpaksa membelinya gara-gara Siti. Agak-agak kalau kain tu dah siap jadi baju, adakah saya akan cantik seperti Siti?  Dah tu saya mesti padankan dengan selendang dan bunga di kepala.  Dan juga kasut tinggi warna keemasan.  Alamak, tak sabar rasanya nak beraya.  Heehee.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/6ec8e5f4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Akhirnya, inilah dia semua kain-kain yang akan saya transportkan ke tailor di Johor Bahru.  Mudah-mudahan hari cuti esok suami saya akan bersetuju menyemberangi jembatan causeway kerana saya rasa mesti traffic jam.  Entah kenapa orang-orang Singapore ni suka masuk JB pada hari-hari cuti dan hari-hari yang bukan cuti.  Marilah kita sama-sama berdoa semoga mood suami saya baik ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan kepada Imah sayang, terima kasih temankan saya ke Aladdin.  Saya tahu awak gembira tengok kain-kain yang berwarna-warni itu.  Lain kali saya ajak lagi.  Sekian.  Harap maklum.  Wahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114728906826182649?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114728906826182649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114728906826182649&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114728906826182649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114728906826182649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/wahai-makcik-makcik-dan-minah-minah.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114724383756467477</id><published>2006-05-10T14:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:49.580+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Mano is an ex-colleague whom I'm still in contact with.  He's the only Indian friend I have, surprisingly since I'm very friendly and lovable.  Hehe.  We keep in touch all these years.  Though he is a decade (yes decade!) older than me, he is young at heart.  Wakaka!  (bleargh!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I call him Uncle, since he is one.  I denied being called an Auntie because I am (a fact) still young, compared to him :p  Whenever I call him Uncle, he will jump and make a fuss that he, too, is young.  Yeah, whatever, Uncle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uncle&lt;/strong&gt; : So how's your daughter's exam?  She did well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Young woman &lt;/strong&gt;: Yeah, not bad for English and Chinese.  Her maths is poor, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uncle &lt;/strong&gt;: Is it?  So you &lt;em&gt;makan &lt;/em&gt;already?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Young woman&lt;/strong&gt; : Yeah I &lt;em&gt;makan &lt;/em&gt;already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uncle &lt;/strong&gt;: So you lost your freedom now, eh?  (he's referring to my earlier entry)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Young woman &lt;/strong&gt;: Ya lor.  Last night Rayyan called crying want to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uncle &lt;/strong&gt;: Haha.  So you &lt;em&gt;makan &lt;/em&gt;already?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Young woman &lt;/strong&gt;: Ya lah &lt;em&gt;makan &lt;/em&gt;already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uncle &lt;/strong&gt;: Eh?  How come your daughter no school today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Young woman &lt;/strong&gt;: Aiyah, the school today close lah.  Off-in-lieu for the voting day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uncle &lt;/strong&gt;: Today?  Stupid lah the school.  Should give tomorrow off, right?  Then Friday also holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Young woman &lt;/strong&gt;: Ya lor.  They can't wait to have off-day lah maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uncle &lt;/strong&gt;: Hmmm... So you &lt;em&gt;makan &lt;/em&gt;already?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Young woman &lt;/strong&gt;: Hey, Uncle!  This is the third time you're asking if I &lt;em&gt;makan &lt;/em&gt;already lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Uncle &lt;/strong&gt;: Is it?  I'm that old meh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Young woman &lt;/strong&gt;: Ah but then???  Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you see, Mano, whenever you feel young, you should read this entry.  And ponder on your age.  Heehee.  And since you like to call me everytime you read my entry (instead of leaving a comment), I'm expecting him call me right.... NOW!  :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114724383756467477?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114724383756467477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114724383756467477&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114724383756467477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114724383756467477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/mano-is-ex-colleague-whom-im-still-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114720037157339449</id><published>2006-05-09T02:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:49.375+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/1600/image0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/373/410/320/image0004.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time when my two and a half year old boy loved to stay at his Grandma's place.  He'd waved bye-bye at us when our attempt to bring him home failed.  He stayed there for a week then came home and cried to go to Grandma's again.  That went on for about 2 months.  And that 2 months was my most enjoyable time.  Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent those days (after my girl went to school in the afternoon) with friends for lunch, shop, run errands, lunch, shop and everything that mothers can't do with a toddler who runs around or demand to be carried everytime.  I also enjoyed those times because I didn't have to cook a separate meal for him (as he's too young to have our &lt;em&gt;asam pedas&lt;/em&gt;).  Not that I'm complaining, but it's nice to have my own free time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a bit worried, though, that he'd find our company a bore.  Or maybe he didn't love us.  Over at Grandma's, he's being treated like a king.  He gets what he wants, even now.  Everyday without fail, Grandpa would buy him a toy.  Didn't matter if the toy is just a two dollars car with no wheels.  Well, it used to have wheels, but those disappeared after 5 minutes in his hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then out of a sudden, he doesn't want to go to Grandma's anymore.  He wants to go home.  And that stopped my afternoon freedom.  Boohoohoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after a few months, I'm itching to go out with friends.  So I try to send him to Grandma's again.  But he cried over and over again.  "I want to go home!"  &lt;em&gt;Alamak ai...  Kacau daun ah budak ni!&lt;/em&gt;  Why eh?  Why?  Why?!!!  WHY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*hentak kaki, tarik rambut*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114720037157339449?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114720037157339449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114720037157339449&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114720037157339449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114720037157339449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/there-was-time-when-my-two-and-half.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114674459773774180</id><published>2006-05-04T19:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:49.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It hurts when the things you do for others are not appreciated, no matter how difficult or simple the tasks were.  Taken for granted, sometimes you wonder if you will be missed at all when you leave this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry may not be the hardest word to say, but it is a regret to have said it when it is slammed with harsh and hurting words in reply.  It would have been better if those hard words were left unsaid.  Silence is best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Furthermore, isn't that how I've been treated?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114674459773774180?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114674459773774180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114674459773774180&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114674459773774180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114674459773774180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/it-hurts-when-things-you-do-for-others.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114659371339453322</id><published>2006-05-03T02:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T16:12:49.011+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/71fd3bad.jpg" align="left" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;They did it.  Though they were late due to heavy traffic and bad weather, and the solemniser was ready to pack and go to his next appointment, they managed to do it.  They are now husband and wife.  I am so happy for her.  Rachel and Ramp.  Made for each other.  Congratulations you two!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to circumstances, instead of hubby, my partner for the night was none other than Linda.  Haha.  Oooh, I miss her so much.  Ever since she started working, we only communicate a total of 15 minutes for a whole week!  And that includes sms-es!  I very don't like, you know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as usual, we love to pose in the washroom.  Heehee.  That is where we can reapply our lipsticks, blot the oil off our (ahem!) beautiful faces, do our hair, smile the prettiest at ourselves in the mirror and click!  As always, it is fun to be with her.  And her with me.  Heehee.  Really.  Right, &lt;em&gt;Nyah&lt;/em&gt;?  Yeah, she won't answer me here in my blog.  I don't know why.  She is shy.  I don't know why.  Like as if we haven't seen her face.  She graces my blog more than me myself.  Duh!  I don't know why...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/60d28b25.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/c9fbb511.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/46f22521.jpg" align="right" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wifey&lt;/strong&gt; : So what time are you coming back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hubby&lt;/strong&gt; : Err...  Actually I have lots of work leh.  Thinking of not coming back tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wifey&lt;/strong&gt; : Huh?  But I'm going to fry chicken wings.  And I cooked the &lt;em&gt;ikan sepat &lt;/em&gt;with chilli and &lt;em&gt;petai&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hubby&lt;/strong&gt; : Wah, so nice ah.  Like that I must come back lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wifey&lt;/strong&gt; : *Beams*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story is, the way to your husband's heart is through his stomach.  Wakaka.  &lt;em&gt;(Padahal tengah marah ni, nak balik pasal nak makan, bukan pasal anak bini!  Dah lah gitu, lepas makan pergi kerja balik!  Pffft!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of his secret identity (as if!), in replacement to hubby's picture is our boy's.  Who looks exactly the same as his father!  Tsk!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114659371339453322?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114659371339453322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114659371339453322&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114659371339453322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114659371339453322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/05/they-did-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114543963934392988</id><published>2006-04-19T17:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:23.383+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Happy Birthday, Kynne!  It's a pleasure to spend yesterday with you.  Even though our original plan was to go out and have some fun with our cameras outdoor, the day was quite as fun because we did play with our cameras indoor.  It's always fun with you and the cameras, heh? :D&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/5ceb8bc7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;We met Liza, too, for lunch.  There's no &lt;em&gt;segan silu-ness &lt;/em&gt;with these two girls.  First time met but like years of knowing one another :p&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/8c143bfc.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/e25cddfd.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/9be8a412.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;A game of bowling is not fun anymore.  We prefer to take pictures instead; of our butts while bending to roll the ball (which I decided not to put up here cos there're too buttlicious), of each other and of my boy, of each other's camera thru the viewfinder and many more.  We practically rolled the ball not caring of the scores.  Heehee.  Again, Happy Birthday, Kynne.  We'll definitely do the outdoor thingy soon.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/bab69c58.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/8d3650ce.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/39de3cc1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Met a newborn baby last Saturday.  He belongs to an old friend, Hairah (I seem to have lots of old friends eh?).  Congratulations, you!  He sure is a cute boy.  And the baby smell... Fuyoooh!  Miss that smell.  Even now I tend to put lots of baby powder on my boy just to relive the smell.  Heehee.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/00411b6d.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;So it's been raining heavily in the late afternoons for the past one week, eh?  Last Monday, I noticed the sky was different from what I've seen before.  It was dark, yet the sun was shining through the dark clouds.  It was scary, yet it was beautiful.  It was awesome!  He, the creator, is the greatest.  Below pictures were taken from my balcony window.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/35faa37f.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/f2913626.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Ehem.  I'm sitting here in front of the computer with the tv blaring with American Idol.  I'm so in lurve with Chris Daughtry.  His voice, I can go hmmmmm.  His face, I can go hmmmnnnmmm.  His head, I can go hmmmnnn.  Oh no, Hubby, I don't want you bald.  Just him :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114543963934392988?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114543963934392988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114543963934392988&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114543963934392988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114543963934392988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/04/happy-birthday-kynne-its-pleasure-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114503378074412303</id><published>2006-04-14T23:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:22.593+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel like a celebrity today.  Haha.  Almost, to be exact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone called my name when I reached Food Culture at Lot 1 Choa Chu Kang.  By the way, that place is very good, I tell you.  It's even better than Banquet which is already famous for its Halal food.  I like!  The homemade noodle stall is the best, if you ask me.  But if you didn't ask, it's ok.  I will still tell you.  Haha.  &lt;em&gt;Apa ajer!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, back to that someone who called my name.  He happens to be my cousin.  But hey, I seldom see him, and even if I saw him first, I'm not sure if I can recognise him.  What's with his bald head (he performed &lt;em&gt;Umrah &lt;/em&gt;recently) and his &lt;em&gt;jubah &lt;/em&gt;(I assumed he just returned from Friday prayer).  Anyway, it was nice to see him.  So that was me feeling like a celebrity number one.  Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then when I was ordering my food at the homemade noodle stall (what else?), I received a call on my mobile.  It's Imah.  And immediately I scanned the crowd and found her.  She happened to be there with another old friend.  So again, I was feeling like a celebrity number two and three.  Heh.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/f07535ae.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Then while I was eating, I noticed a woman smiling at me.  I caught myself smiling back at her even though I didn't know her.  Haha.  I can be &lt;strong&gt;that&lt;/strong&gt; friendly sometime.  And when she smiled longer, I started to feel confused.  Is she smiling at me?  Who is she?  So she came forward and said, "you Lynn, &lt;em&gt;kan?&lt;/em&gt;"  "&lt;em&gt;Alamak, siapa eh?&lt;/em&gt;"  So she introduced herself as another blogger.  I even have her link but because she has never put up a picture of herself, I couldn't know her.  So &lt;em&gt;sekarang baru lah makcik tahu, siapa itu makcik MPB!&lt;/em&gt;  Haha.  Oh, again, I was feeling like a celebrity number four, five, six, seven, eight and nine, because she had her whole family with her.  Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right.  That's all.  Nine people.  I said almost a celebrity, didn't I?  :p  But hey, it was meet-the-fan-session today.  Very good.  Not everyday I can meet my fans, you know.  Wahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, on to another news bulletin.  Besides having lunch (like a &lt;em&gt;tai tai&lt;/em&gt;) occasionally during weekdays with Lizanoor and Imah, Linda is the most frequent companion.  Since she quit her job 8 months ago, I've been spending a whole lot of afternoons with her.  We went lunch, shopping, playing, lazing at home, gossiping, talking and whatever stuff girls do together.  Half of my mobile phone bill and sms-es are to her.  (So hubby, don't blame me, but blame Linda!)  But as at Wednesday, she became employed again.  I'm so gonna miss her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was wandering alone around Wisma Atria on Wednesday to kill time to meet Rachel for dinner and while talking to Imah on the mobile phone (she kept me company while I drove, and oh hubby, she called me so it's free incoming), whom did I saw shopping herself?  Linda.  Heh.  So good to see her.  I hope she knows how much I missed her, even though I just saw her the day before.  Hah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7f2b66a2.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/a3361d0e.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;See the unemployed-for-eight-months face?  See how tired she looked after the first day of work?  Hah!  So later that night, I met her again so we can go back together (Lynn aka driver) and we talked in the car, near her flat, till half past midnight!  It was fun.  Surprisingly, my family (my girl especially) didn't haunt me on the phone like they usually do.  I like!  Thank you, my family, especially hubby for being so understanding.  &lt;em&gt;Lap you many many!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok the main reason I was out on Wednesday night was because it's Rachel's Birthday.  We had buffet dinner at Straits Kitchen at Hyatt Hotel.  I tell you, the food spread was fabulous!  We couldn't try all the food like we planned to.  We took a little bit of each dish to share, but still the spread was big as in BIG!  And they are delicious!  You have to try it!  Here's just a sneak preview...  very sneaky one...&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/651e5376.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/dfcc0e8c.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/d91555a6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;And here is the birthday girl, Rachel with her intended.  She's showing off the gift from me, by the way :D  a necklace.  And of course, her vain fiance showing off his big, muscular arm.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/bf24791f.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/05736a39.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;And below are pictures of me with Rachel and WY.  Thanks, WY, for paying the tab!  It'll be my turn the next time.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/e64d3ed2.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/b376b110.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/f1901308.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Ok last but not least, my pouting face.  So if any of you spot my spelling error or grammar mistakes, this face you will get.  Hah!  :p&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/c060b628.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114503378074412303?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114503378074412303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114503378074412303&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114503378074412303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114503378074412303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-feel-like-celebrity-today.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114452323208019411</id><published>2006-04-08T02:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:22.501+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We celebrated the marriage of my ex-colleague today.  The wedding dinner was beautiful... and so is the bride... and the groom... and the guests :D&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/6d3cf577.jpg" /&gt;     &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/00bd5f49.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;She is bubbly as ever, even on her wedding day!  She didn't want to give a speech when asked to by the MC, but she ended up thanking lots of people.  Very chatty, she.  She even hugged me so tight!  I can't believe how much she missed me!  Or maybe I am THAT huggable.  Heh.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/e9e6be23.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/2dbd040d.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7c2fda4c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The above picture was taken together with Rachel, also an ex-colleague and a dear friend.  She'll be the next one to get hitched :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations, Eunice &amp; Kenneth!  May you're blessed with happiness and many chatty kids in the near future!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114452323208019411?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114452323208019411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114452323208019411&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114452323208019411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114452323208019411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/04/we-celebrated-marriage-of-my-ex.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114434099062407373</id><published>2006-04-06T23:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:22.431+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My sister in law, Joanne (she's Chinese), was complaining to me about how she hated to buy food from a Malay stall.  It's not the food.  She loves Malay food.  But it's the people tending the stall.  She's not being racist.  I know she isn't.  She related the story of how when she was ordering the food and the Malay &lt;em&gt;makcik &lt;/em&gt;kept yakety-yak to her fellow co-worker.  It annoys her.  And it's not the first time she encountered such scenes.  And poor her had to wait for the &lt;em&gt;makcik &lt;/em&gt;to finish her sentences before she can continue pointing to the dishes that need to be added to the rice.  And I should add this, the &lt;em&gt;makcik &lt;/em&gt;is the sloooow type.  &lt;em&gt;Very the lemah lembut!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only that, when the &lt;em&gt;makcik &lt;/em&gt;had packed the food, she didn't pass the packet to Joanne.  She left it where Joanne couldn't reach and continued her yakety-yak without glancing at Joanne's held out hand with the payment.  By this time, Joanne was so annoyed that she stepped into the stall and grabbed the food and left the money on the table outside (meant for sitting customers) and walked away.  She is not going to that stall ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been in Joanne's position before.  But me being a Malay, I sure understand the way our &lt;em&gt;makciks &lt;/em&gt;behave.  And of course since I've been brought up with &lt;em&gt;makciks &lt;/em&gt;(Malay) surroundings, I didn't quite noticed if there's anything wrong with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never seen it from another perspective (a Chinese for example) before.  Now that Joanne has enlightened her views, I started to take note of such things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I was at Adam food centre for lunch.  The two &lt;em&gt;makciks &lt;/em&gt;who tended the stall was also having their lunch at the nearest table to the stall.  They were busy eating and talking.  A Chinese man came looking around the stall for someone to attend to him, then he noticed the two &lt;em&gt;makciks &lt;/em&gt;and signalled to them that he wanted to order.  But one of the &lt;em&gt;makciks &lt;/em&gt;raised her hand instead to tell the man to wait (duh!) while she finishes her food in the mouth and the conversation she was having with the other &lt;em&gt;makcik&lt;/em&gt;!  I counted 10 seconds and the man left the stall empty handed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why oh why?  Why can't the &lt;em&gt;makcik &lt;/em&gt;stopped her activity and immediately attend to the man as he was, in fact, a customer?  I looked at the Chinese stalls, and saw them moving about their work quickly so that they don't keep the customers waiting.  I'm afraid to admit, that yes, some of them &lt;em&gt;makciks &lt;/em&gt;just can't stop talking.  &lt;em&gt;Banyak colok.&lt;/em&gt;  I mean, that's not the way to do business, right?  *frowning*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm on the Malay business thingy, there is this popular Malay stall selling simple yet delicious dishes at the above food centre.  But the problem is, both husband and wife partner are so arrogant they don't even interact with us!  Not even AN eye contact!  Once I ordered a dish there (I'm not saying the dish cos if you've been there you should know which) and I was the one asking and answering my own questions!  So arrogant!  And they even have that arrogant look!  I wish I can say that I'm not going to that stall again, but since I like the dishes, I will not say that :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew!  I talked (typed?) a lot today.  Wait!!!  I don't sound like a &lt;em&gt;makcik&lt;/em&gt;, right??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114434099062407373?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114434099062407373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114434099062407373&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114434099062407373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114434099062407373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/04/my-sister-in-law-joanne-shes-chinese.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114361935395594988</id><published>2006-03-29T15:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:22.363+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had lunch today with some friends that I made in the blogging world. I already met Liza (red headscarf) and Mrsbeki (blue headscarf) a few times.  And today I met mylinda (my right) for the first time.  She's very chatty, she.  Same like Liza.  Wahaha.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/3a21accf.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;We took a couple of pictures together when out of a sudden, Mrsbeki left the table to go to the washroom.  I thought she needed to pee urgently, but when she came back, she has touched up her lipstick.  Very vain lah she!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued taking pictures without her.  But, when we were posing for another shot, she appeared out of nowhere.  You see lah!  &lt;em&gt;Tak nak lepaskan peluang lah itu pompuan.  Terselit pulak muka dia pat situ!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/82c7bada.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/bfb1e0e7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;We laughed so hard.  The funny thing is, she very cleverly positioned her blue head to fit into the picture.  &lt;em&gt;Wa tak boleh tahan!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a lunch full of laughter.  Thank you, ladies.  &lt;em&gt;Tak sia sia wa korban wa punya free trial slimming session to have lunch with you :p&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114361935395594988?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114361935395594988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114361935395594988&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114361935395594988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114361935395594988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-had-lunch-today-with-some-friends.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114355938644524011</id><published>2006-03-28T22:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:22.291+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've known Zee since my secondary school days.  She was from another school but she used to join us at our so-called 'Port' near my school where we hanged out after classes.  'Port' was where we sat in a group to play, gossip, do homework (yes we did that, too) and to smoke (that, we did secretly).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/c4b01fe3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;She got herself a French husband in February last month.  And today, she left to join her other half in Algeria where he's posted to work for a few years.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/58e73c2e.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;She bought for me a necklace for my birthday, even though I couldn't attend her farewell dinner last week.  Thank you, Zee.  I like it so much and I'll remember you whenever I wear it, but that doesn't mean that I don't remember you when I'm not wearing it.  Heehee.  (Note: That's not the necklace she gave me)&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/e4106a34.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/0f080ac7.jpg" /&gt;      &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/ac79a501.jpg" /&gt;      &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/3f5be9b6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/a08b8528.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/f664f21d.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/a3bac7d4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;We are going to miss you.  I wish you happiness in whatever you do.  Enjoy yourself in Algeria, eh, if that's possible.  Heehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we were near Changi, we decided to try out the popular &lt;em&gt;Nasi Ayam Penyet&lt;/em&gt;.  I have no idea what penyet is.  Sounds like penyek, though the chicken wasn't penyek (flattened) at all.  The taste is ok.  Unlike what I've heard before.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/d607a468.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;And I don't see any reason why I shouldn't put this next picture of two girls with oily faces.  Heehee.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/797aa3e0.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;See?  I'm updating my blog now, eh?  :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114355938644524011?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114355938644524011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114355938644524011&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114355938644524011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114355938644524011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/03/ive-known-zee-since-my-secondary.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114347568338896074</id><published>2006-03-27T23:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:22.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yooohooo!!! I'm back! I know, I posted the previous entry thinking that I won't be back here this soon. But since my boy isn't at home (at Grandma's) and my man is away doing what he loves to do (his work) and my girl is doing her own thing in her room, I've decided to make myself very comfortable on this swivel chair with the fan blowing at my face, together with my camera (ehem, it's new), I feel it's a good time to upload the pictures and update my blog. So here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(At this point, I've paused for 3 minutes cracking my brain on where to start!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah... Pictures!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/d87a2960.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Introducing my new digicam, Olympus mju 810.  Hubby promised to get me a new camera since last year.  We went to an exhibition and to another exhibition and I finally got it at IT Show at Suntec City recently.  And the timing is right for an advance birthday present for me.  Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of my birthday, I turned 32 on Thursday last week.  The day started with a startling news that a close friend's husband is involved in a car accident.  They just got the brand new car not 2 weeks ago.  I remember talking to Imah about the excitement of having a new car.  I think I was happier than her, hehe.  I tend to get more excited than others, you see, even though the car isn't mine.  She reminded me of how happy and jakun I was about myself having a new car nearly 2 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, thank God, her husband is fine.  But the car is in a terrible shape.  They were heartbroken.  And very sad.  Poor Cerato.  Here's before and after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/01a303f6.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/9d461680.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the bad news, I continued my day shopping with Linda :p  Imah wasn't in a mood to celebrate the day with me, which I can understand.  &lt;em&gt;Jangan sedih lagi eh, Imah.  Nanti bila dapat kete replacement, kasi cantik lagi lah.  Baru dapat bonus per!&lt;/em&gt; :p  So Linda and I had a free ice cream at Swensen's (because it's my day) and we took a few pictures together.  Here are some of them.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/92ae8542.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/16fa4322.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/fb54ff96.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/88d74c2e.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that day, after a simple dinner with my family, we went to get a cake.  As we couldn't decide on which cake (off the shelves), we decided to get the slices kind, all 8 flavours of them.  We needed 12 slices to make a circle, but they only have 8 different flavours left.  It's kinda good idea actually.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/83fdc4d8.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/2ad1892c.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/94fd899d.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;To those of you who wished me on the phone, on sms and on my comment box, I thank you all very much.  To have you think of me on my birthday made me happy and thankful that I have such thoughtful friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two Fridays ago, we celebrated Shireen's two girls birthday at their place.  It's my first meeting with her.  I also met Hana although she didn't recognise me at first.  But overall, the outing was more fun because Kynne was with me.  And since I've been neglecting my blog, here are some pictures treat :p&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/2b554c5c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/1a458af6.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/80a01907.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/35a5dee9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/d522de43.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/43eebef9.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/9c363ce0.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And not forgetting, my lunch buddy, Liza and her butterfly :p&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/6ac7b440.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/3725ea70.jpg" /&gt;    &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/8cf190a3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, below are two pictures of &lt;em&gt;tiga dara pingitan&lt;/em&gt;.  One taken during our schooldays in 1991 and the other is today.  Can you spot the difference???  I'm sure you can.  We grew sideways.  Hahaha.  Try to match whom is whom :p  Good luck!  Wahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/0c340dc5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/856f90ec.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I can't forget this girl.  She's an old special friend.  We only meet like twice a year to have dinner around our birthdays (not counting Hari Raya when she visits me).  We've been doing that ever since we know each other 12 years ago.  We do talk on the phone, of course, but it's kinda cool to have this kind of tradition.  Thanks, Mayling, for this special friendship :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/faf02acd.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, does this small girl look familiar???  Heeheee...&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/014f0b4a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa... so much happened during my absence.  And today my entry looks like a picture gallery.  Yeah, well, as usual, I promise to update regularly :p  In the meantime, like I said, you do what you've been doing and I'll do what I've been doing.  Cheers!  Heehee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114347568338896074?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114347568338896074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114347568338896074&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114347568338896074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114347568338896074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/03/yooohooo-im-back-i-know-i-posted.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114342950149138868</id><published>2006-03-27T11:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:22.149+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dear Blog/Bloggers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sorry for the lack of updates.  I've been busy lately (not to mention lazy).  I'll try to update you on my life as soon as I find the time, strength, motivation and unglued myself off the tv with that Korean drama series DVD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, you do what you've been doing, and I'll do what I've been doing.  Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Lynn&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114342950149138868?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114342950149138868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114342950149138868&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114342950149138868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114342950149138868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/03/dear-blogbloggers-im-so-sorry-for-lack.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114166977363796536</id><published>2006-03-07T02:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:22.081+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FGPvxG_VAMM" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Allright.  I've seen this YouTube thingy on some of the blogs and I thought of trying one myself.  Now that I managed to get it up, it'll motivate me to make a better video :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Above is a video of my boy getting ready for a nap (that explains the darkness of the room cos the curtain was closed).  He wanted his bottle but forgot about it when he found the gameboy on the bed.  Seconds later, he fell asleep.  And so did his Mummy.  Ahaks!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114166977363796536?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114166977363796536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114166977363796536&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114166977363796536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114166977363796536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/03/allright.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114166605353118856</id><published>2006-03-06T01:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:22.011+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/idol.jpg" align="left" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;Watch out for Chris Daughtry!  I tell you, he's gonna be the next American Idol!  Tak bedek!!!  He has that super duper voice that I find unique and powerful.  And the three judges couldn't agree more.  Catch him this Thursday on Channel 5 to prove I'm right.  Cedebah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Idol, I tried registering myself for Singapore Idol.  I always love singing.  I've been singing my whole life.  Really.  I will sing out loud, sing in my head, and I even sing in my sleep.  And the best stage is always in the shower.  Sometimes I get carried away and hubby will knock on the bathroom door telling me to low it down.  The neighbours will come asking for my autographs, you see.  And he doesn't want that kind of attention.  Tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, when I filled out the online form to register myself, and when it get to the part to choose the date of birth, I found that I can't choose my year born.  Because it wasn't there.  I'm overaged.  Uwaaaaaaaah!!!  Why?  Oh why???  Why can't over 30 be an Idol?  Pfft!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114166605353118856?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114166605353118856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114166605353118856&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114166605353118856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114166605353118856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/03/watch-out-for-chris-daughtry-i-tell.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114157899223046274</id><published>2006-03-05T00:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:21.942+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A friend and I were discussing (if you want to call it that but I'd call it arguing) about who's responsible for letting her 9 year old son's cell phone getting washed in the washing machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friend&lt;/strong&gt; : I was so mad at my maid.  She is so bloody stupid.  The cell phone practically washed and spinned in the machine!  Why didn't she check all the pockets before she started the machine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : I don't think it was totally your maid's fault.  Your son, too, played a part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friend&lt;/strong&gt; : No way!  She is suppose to check the pockets before she does the washing!  She is paid to do that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : Well, I always tell my family members to empty their pockets before dumping the dirty clothes into the laundry basket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friend&lt;/strong&gt; : That is because you are the one who do the washing.  And you're not a maid.  And you're not paid to do the work.  I pay my maid to do that work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : Still, I think you should at least educate your family members to be more responsible with their belongings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friend&lt;/strong&gt; : No, you don't get it.  You don't have a maid and never had one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : Hey, if I have a maid, I'd still tell my family members to empty their pockets.  The maid will be the second person to check.  Double checking, you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friend&lt;/strong&gt; : You're just saying that because you don't have a maid.  If you have one, you'll understand what I'm trying to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually I don't.  What is so difficult about educating your family members to be more responsible?  Hmmm...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114157899223046274?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114157899223046274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114157899223046274&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114157899223046274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114157899223046274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/03/friend-and-i-were-discussing-if-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114079189198275382</id><published>2006-02-24T22:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:21.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There was a scene in Garisan Takdir on Suria tonight when the character Sakinah was crying because her love, Khalif, decided to break off their relationship due to some family matters.  Sakinah's mother was beside her trying to console her.  And I mean, really console.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mother was telling her to accept the fact that Khalif was probably just in love with her as his sister, not lover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sakinah&lt;/strong&gt; : Tak mungkin, Mak!  Tak mungkin!  *nangis nangis*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mother&lt;/strong&gt; : Inaaah, sabarlah, sayang.  Mungkin Khalif tu rindukan adik dia, jadi dia ingat dia sayang kan Inah, tapi sebenarnya dia rindukan adik dia.  *pujuk pujuk*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sakinah&lt;/strong&gt; : Tidak!  Inah tak akan maafkan dia selagi dia tak jelaskan pada Inah!  *nangis nangis*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mother&lt;/strong&gt; : Inaaaah, sayang...*while stroking her daughter's hair*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed out loud.  I laughed because the scene wasn't funny, but it reminded me of how opposite that scene is to my mother and myself.  And that makes me laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how I imagine my conversation with my own mother if I was crying like Sakinah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : Tak mungkin, Mak!  Tak mungkin!  *nangis nangis tarik rambut*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MY mother&lt;/strong&gt; : Kau dah kenapa ni?  Dah gatal???  Kalau dah gatal sangat, hah, pergi kawin!  Itu yang kau suka kan?  Dah gatal agaknya.  Nangis nangis pasal jantan semua!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : Alaaah, mak ni.  Orang kan tengah sedih ni?  Tengking-tengking pulak.  *nangis nangis sambil tutup muka*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MY mother&lt;/strong&gt; : Eleh!  Menangis konon.  Pergilah nangis jauh jauh.  Apasal kau nangis kat sini?!  *tonyoh kepala aku sampai senget-senget badan*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kesian kan aku???  UuuuWaaaah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114079189198275382?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114079189198275382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114079189198275382&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114079189198275382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114079189198275382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/02/there-was-scene-in-garisan-takdir-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114071402111444990</id><published>2006-02-24T00:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:21.783+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My dearest sister-in-law, one and only, has taken the first step today to join the business world. After much consideration, she has finally decided to quit her job and be her own boss. Anyway, here I am trying to be of help in promoting her business :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heard of foot reflexology, right? It is a method of massage that relieves nervous tension through the application of finger pressure, especially to the feet. She does house visits, with an appointment of course. So if you are too lazy to go to those shops offering such services and prefer to have your feet massaged at the comfort of your home, do let us know and we'll fix an appointment at your most convenient time. You may email me at &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;mylinabs@yahoo.com&lt;/span&gt; for more information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides doing foot reflexology, she also hangs paintings and picture frames on your walls at a very reasonable price. She will be able to advise you on the right height and the best angels. In addition to that, her dad is in the framing business and if you have anything to be framed, please consider us :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, if you are moving &lt;strong&gt;anything&lt;/strong&gt; to and from another location, she also provides transportation (and manpower if needed).  Again, email me for quotations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there!  I hope by promoting her business on my blog, I'll get her some income so that she can buy a 3-storey bungalow that she's been dreaming of.  The one that all of us will stay together under one roof :-\&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114071402111444990?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114071402111444990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114071402111444990&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114071402111444990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114071402111444990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-dearest-sister-in-law-one-and-only.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-114020828574837302</id><published>2006-02-17T03:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:21.646+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Do you know about your other half's past relationships?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was having dinner with a girlfriend and her fiance when the topic came up.  They both said that what's past is past.  What matters is the present and the future.  They are not interested to know about each other's love-life history cos they may upset one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't they a little bit curious about the reason why it didn't work out?  I'm not asking for details but at least a reason why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can understand the reason why they refuse to share with one another.  What I don't understand is why aren't they a little bit teeny weeny curious?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past makes you the person you are today.  I would want to know what kind of past my partner had that led him my way.  Call me nosey, but I don't want history to repeat itself.  We learn from past experiences.  And it makes us wiser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends amazed me.  They can totally put the past behind them and look forward to a brighter future.  But...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM SO CURIOUS!!!  Wahahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-114020828574837302?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/114020828574837302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=114020828574837302&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114020828574837302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/114020828574837302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/02/do-you-know-about-your-other-halfs.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113984169593917662</id><published>2006-02-13T22:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:21.575+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why do husbands don't feel bad or guilty when they return home late?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we (the wives) try our best to return home as early as possible, just so we can please our husbands?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter where everyone were from.  Be it work, shopping, golf, soccer game, or just hanging out with friends at a cafe.  Husbands can spend as much time as they want away from us without feeling the force to return home quickly.  Even though we phone to ask "when are you coming home?", their answers always came out as simple as "soon".  However, their soon are always not soon enough.  And when they do reach home, they have the unconcerned look on their faces as if it's a normal thing to be home late, that they feel what they did while they were away was a big important thing.  (Could it ever be the $1m deal?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when husbands phone their wives to ask the same questions, we will rush home without finishing our shopping or the coffee we were having.  The "soon" answer is like &lt;strong&gt;poof&lt;/strong&gt;!!!, and we appear at the door with a worried look, afraid if we might get a cold treatment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do husbands feel they are more superior (it's not like a job, a company, isn't it?)?  And why do wives always feel afraid if the husbands are not happy with their absence from home?  Are we unstable?  Or are we just a mere submissive creatures?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.  Joyah, Jenab, wa macam Carrie Bradshaw no?  :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113984169593917662?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113984169593917662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113984169593917662&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113984169593917662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113984169593917662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/02/why-do-husbands-dont-feel-bad-or.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113940831892633302</id><published>2006-02-08T22:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:21.500+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;table background="#FFFFFF" border="0" style="border: 1px solid black;"width="450"&gt;&lt;td align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font size="+1"&gt;Azlina --&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="+1"&gt;[noun]:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An alien&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: #FF0000;" href="http://www.quizgalaxy.com/quiz.php?id=83"&gt;'How will you be defined in the dictionary?'&lt;/a&gt; at &lt;a href="http://www.quizgalaxy.com" style="color: #FF0000;"&gt;QuizGalaxy.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Macaaaaaaaaam Siak!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113940831892633302?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113940831892633302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113940831892633302&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113940831892633302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113940831892633302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/02/azlina-nounan-alien-how-will-you-be.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113873448362582436</id><published>2006-01-31T02:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:21.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;Right, I'm back from the long weekend. CNY celebration was not great, but not bad either. It's the same every year. Started off with lao-ing the Yu Sheng. My favourite :-D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0086.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And as I've mentioned, reunion dinner was steamboat. The soup was delicious, made from stuffs in the boat.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0087.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0089.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Below is my girl with lots of red packets. Those were definitely from us to GIVEAWAY! I packed more than 40 envelopes but in the end, I had to hide in the car to pack more! Hubby's relatives have grown from big to large! And this year, he made me learn to give out the red packets myself. I had to remember whom I've given and whom I've not. Very headache!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0090.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Oh, and below is of course, yours truly &lt;em&gt;'tangkap jambu'&lt;/em&gt; before we set off for the visitings. Ehem! I just had to put this picture up because, ehem, I think I look pretty. Wakaka.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0091.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And my family. But as you can see, hubby's face is not captured. He has told me many times to not put up his picture, due to his nature of work. &lt;em&gt;Macamlah handsome sangat!&lt;/em&gt;  Haha.  If you wanna see his face, try searching for it on the archive. Good luck :p&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0092.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And my handbag which, by the middle of the day, is not really stuffed with the collected red packets for my children. Grrrr...! But hey, after counting them at night, I think we made a profit of S$50. Hahaha!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0093.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Below is the lawn at granny's house with some of the relatives. While waiting for the aged granny to wake up from her long beautiful nap, the youngsters play football while the oldies hanged around for some breeze, which apparently wasn't there cos the weather was hot! hot! hot!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0094.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Below is his cousin with a problem. She had mixed up some red packets which are not hers to keep. Haha. I was there clicking away making her more confused. What's more with the Tiger beer, I think she &lt;em&gt;mabuk&lt;/em&gt; liao.  Hehe.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0095.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Another lao-ing with another set of family. This time I had to climb a chair to get the view.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0096.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Err, I think that's all I have for now. I wasn't a good photographer because I was also busy eating kuacis. Haha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113873448362582436?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113873448362582436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113873448362582436&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113873448362582436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113873448362582436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/01/right-im-back-from-long-weekend.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113839134473854692</id><published>2006-01-28T02:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:21.231+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Gee, Chinese New Year is here again.  And I'm off to stay over for a few days at my in laws to celebrate it with them.  Hubby still has his old room there which is now filled up with whatever toys that I don't want to be kept at our own home.  &lt;em&gt;Biar berserak kat rumah dia, bukan kat rumah aku.&lt;/em&gt;  Wakaka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This entry will tell a story of how I spend the new year.  Right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We usually have steamboat for reunion dinner on the eve.  They are very thoughtful to use new utensils.  All eight of us will sit together around what-appeared-to-be-too-small-for-eight-person dining table.  Though a little bit squeezy, I guess the important thing is to have the dinner together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part of the dinner is the Yu Sheng.  Well, the best part of Chinese New Year &lt;strong&gt;is&lt;/strong&gt; the Yu Sheng!  I just love the taste.  It consists of some carrots, radish, pulps of pamelo, sesame seeds, crackers, raw fish and some other stuffs which I'm not sure what but definitely delicious when its covered with plum sauce and lemon juice.  We will &lt;em&gt;lao&lt;/em&gt; the yu sheng as high as possible hoping the new year will bring us prosperity.  The higher the better.  Because hubby and I love it so much, we will also buy it ourselves every other day during the 15 days celebration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the eve.  After dinner, the family will continue cleaning the house (which I usually see already cleaned but yet to them are still not cleaned).  I will stay in our room with the air-conditioned on and not-sweating myself out ironing the NEW clothes which we'll wear the next day.  All preparations are to be done on the eve.  Even down to socks!  No cutting of tags, or sewing loose buttons on the first day of CNY, according to my mother-in-law.  Knives and scissors are to be kept hidden in case we "accidentally forgot" and use them the next day.  Heh.  I was like huh? why? on my first year after joining the family.  I mean, we Malays don't have those kind of superstition.  It was definitely something new to me.  But I believe, their believes is that everything should be nice and happy on the first day of CNY.  You don't want to hurt yourself cutting things.  It'll be a bad start for the new year.  Bad luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When ironing and cleaning is done, we will sit together in front of the tv and watch that countdown-to-CNY show on channel 8.  Even though I don't understand the language, the atmosphere is there.  It's different from Aidilfitri where we have mixed feelings of happiness, sadness, &lt;em&gt;kesedaran (since I can't think of the English word right now)&lt;/em&gt; and etc, for CNY it's totally HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY!  When midnight comes, we will cry out HAPPY NEW YEAR! &lt;em&gt;macam budak jakun&lt;/em&gt; and shake hands with one another.  And then, I will usher my kids to hide in our room because that is when father-in-law burns some praying papers just outside the main door to usher in the God of Fortune!  Every year without fail, in my mind, I will have this image of the God of Fortune walking tip-toe-ing through their door.  Heehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the next day is spend visiting.  We visit more houses on CNY than Aidilfitri.  Really.  Hubby has quite a big family.  We'll give two oranges to the elders with good wishes and later the elders will give us another set of two oranges thanking us and wishing the same for us.  It's quite lovely actually.  The opposite scene from Aidilfitri when we &lt;em&gt;cry cry mintak ampun maaf.&lt;/em&gt;  Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, the &lt;em&gt;tak best&lt;/em&gt; part is the food part.  We will eat kuaci, nuts, kuaci, dried cuttlefish, kuaci, oranges, kuaci, kuaci and kuaci.  Lunch and dinner is a takeout.  No cooking, or rather, no cutting, remember?  That is why we see Chinese having their meals out even though it's their festivity.  We can't find Malays eating out on Aidilfitri, right? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok at this point, I'm done telling story about how I celebrate CNY.  How to stop?  Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall stop now &lt;em&gt;lah.&lt;/em&gt;  I will take lots of pictures and put them up on my next entry.  In the meantime, enjoy the 4 days holiday!  And Gong Xi Fa Cai!  Heehee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113839134473854692?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113839134473854692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113839134473854692&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113839134473854692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113839134473854692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/01/gee-chinese-new-year-is-here-again.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113778554686860605</id><published>2006-01-21T03:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:21.163+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In an effort to teach my boy in recognising the letters A, B and C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0085.jpg" align="right" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : *Points at A* This is the letter A.  Rayyan says A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Son&lt;/strong&gt; : A&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : *Points at B* Ok, this is B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Son&lt;/strong&gt; : B&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : *Points at C* C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Son&lt;/strong&gt; : C&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : Clever boy!  *Points at A again*  What letter is this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Son&lt;/strong&gt; : Double-u&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : What?  No, no.  This is A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Son&lt;/strong&gt; : A&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me&lt;/strong&gt; : *Points again at A* What is this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Son&lt;/strong&gt; : Double-u&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I don't know how he learned the letter W when I've been trying to teach him only A, B and C.  But he kept saying double-u all the time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113778554686860605?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113778554686860605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113778554686860605&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113778554686860605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113778554686860605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/01/in-effort-to-teach-my-boy-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113743896402047182</id><published>2006-01-16T02:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:21.095+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What is it about Mothers and the things they say to their children coming true, even though the things they say are not their wishes?  For example,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mother&lt;/strong&gt; : Rayyan, don't run or you will fall!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Child&lt;/strong&gt; : *Gedebuk* (sound effect for falling) :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mother&lt;/strong&gt; : Rayyan, put down the cup or you will spill the water!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Child&lt;/strong&gt; : *Splash* (another sound effect) :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit, I don't visit my parents often and Mom is not quite happy that I kind of neglect them.  I mean, I have my own family to manage and sometimes they are two hands too full.  That is why whenever I visit them, I will try to spend the whole day, or the most, half a day if I reach in the mid-afternoon, at their place.  But still, I believe Mom feels that that isn't enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom always tells me, "Fine, you have children of your own.  We'll wait and see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kind of believe that my time has come.  My girl, Diana, used to run to the door excitedly whenever I came back from somewhere to greet me.  But, recently, I noticed that she kind of ignore me.  She will continue with whatever things she's doing as if I've been at home the whole time.  Isn't that sad?  It's like a cycle.  There's a saying, 'you treat others how you want to be treated', and in my case, it is 'you get the treatment for how you've treat others'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already see the alikeness between me and my girl.  It's kinda scary.  I imagine my old age and I will feel exactly how Mom is feeling.  I'm not so sure about my boy, though, since he's too young.  But I feel that two isn't enough.  Maybe I should have another one.  Heh.  Then, again, what if all of my children are like me?  Hmmm...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113743896402047182?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113743896402047182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113743896402047182&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113743896402047182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113743896402047182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/01/what-is-it-about-mothers-and-things.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113654306468291120</id><published>2006-01-06T18:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:21.029+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0084.jpg" align="left" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;Hurray!  I solved my first Sudoku puzzle!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first learned about it from best friend, Linda.  She got so hooked on it I couldn't imagine why.  I tried it on the book she bought and got so frustrated I threw the book back at her.  I just couldn't get the numbers on the boxes right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Liza told me she, too, like the puzzle.  And gave me the &lt;a href="http://www.websudoku.com/"TARGET="_blank"&gt;online link&lt;/a&gt;.  I tried and couldn't get it right, too!  Then she told me she usually concentrates on the small (3x3) boxes first.  Why didn't anyone told me that before???  And hurray!!!  I got it!  Thank you, Joyah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, it seems like I have another new game to play, since I got stucked at Nintendo DS game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There goes my house cleaning...!  I'm a champion at procrastinate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113654306468291120?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113654306468291120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113654306468291120&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113654306468291120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113654306468291120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/01/hurray-i-solved-my-first-sudoku-puzzle.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113636821072340861</id><published>2006-01-04T17:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0083.jpg" align="right" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;Oh!  Have I not mentioned that hubby got me a new handphone?  It's a year-end gift but I call it Christmas present because I got it on Christmas day.  Heehee.  It's a far cry from my previous Sony Ericsson T630, though T630 was hot during its days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my new phone K750i.  2 mega pixels camera.  Auto focus.  Memories can be upgraded to 2GB.  It has video.  Movie maker.  Mp3.  And macam macam yang sewaktu dengannya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first got it, I was so excited I spent the whole day playing with it.  Err, apart from my girl's Nintendo DS, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of my girl, below is a conversation between her daddy and her last night, while I was out.  Just for the record, she loves salmon fish and curry chicken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girl&lt;/strong&gt; : Daddy, do you know how to cook salmon fish?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Daddy&lt;/strong&gt; : Hmmm... I will have to learn before I can cook it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girl&lt;/strong&gt; : Then do you know how to cook curry chicken?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Daddy&lt;/strong&gt; : Hmmm...  Don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girl&lt;/strong&gt; : Like that if you divorce how?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Daddy&lt;/strong&gt; : Huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girl&lt;/strong&gt; : Then you must get another wife, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Daddy&lt;/strong&gt; : Hahaha...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mummy upon hearing the story &lt;/strong&gt;: WHAT???!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange how she can think of that.  More strange that she'd rather get another mother to cook her favourite dishes when she will still has me *cry my eyes out*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113636821072340861?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113636821072340861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113636821072340861&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113636821072340861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113636821072340861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/01/oh-have-i-not-mentioned-that-hubby-got.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113612603678716742</id><published>2006-01-01T21:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.898+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We came back from our trip a day before Christmas Eve.  Yes, it was a week ago and I'm only updating my blog now.  Can't blame me.  I had tons of laundry to do, as do everyone after they're back from wherever, and having rainy days at home doesn't help either.  And what's worse, I've been busy playing my girl's Christmas present from grandad.  Nintendo DS.  Gereks!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Genting/Sunway trip was a very relaxing one.  We didn't shop.  We practically play, eat and sleep.  I've seen others who come home from a trip with loads of shopping.  I just couldn't imagine what things they buy.  Whatever I need, I can get it at home.  Price may be slightly higher, but I'm sure it's a lot convenient to get it back home.  What's more, our car boot was already full of stuffs like luggages, son's favourite pillow and bolster, daughter's bolster and my favourite bolster :p macam nak pindah rumah!&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0079.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Our frist trip to Genting Highlands.  Very challenging!  Surprisingly, this time round, we didn't get lost.  I remember the last trip when we left Sunway, we ended up in a very quiet town it was like another planet altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The journey was obviously a very long one.  And not as exciting as the first few times we drove up to KL.  The kids slept all the way to Genting.  Very good.  The road is definitely not as what people make it sounds like.  It's not as winding and steep as we heard.  In fact, we didn't even realise that we are going upwards until the engine got stressed out and demand a lower gear.  And when we are halfway up (we guessed), we winded down the window to feel the wind.  Jakun!!!  As it get cooler, we knew we are there!  Wooohooo!!!  Suaku!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to Genting Highlands, babe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0076.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;It got more foggy when we checked in to the hotel.  My girl was so full of questions about us being higher than the clouds.  Below are two pictures, a day apart, I took from our hotel window just to compare :D&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0080.jpg" /&gt;              &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0082.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;After a two-nights stay, we headed to Sunway.  The journey down from Genting was definitely GENTING!!!  Crucial.  Very very very foggy.  And it was drizzling, too.  I saw a sign in Malay meaning "Please make sure your vehicle breaks are in working condition" which practically scare me out of my mind.  I thought about failing breaks, and I pray for safety.  And thank God, we are safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three-nights stay at Sunway was the most relaxing.  We played.  Swam.  Ate.  Ate.  Ate.  And ate.  Period.  Haha.  Below is my favourite picture with my two lovely children.  Diana and Rayyan.&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0081.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Well, it is a new year.  I wish myself a happy and blessed new year ahead.  If not as happy and blessed as the year before, then I wish for happier and blessier!  Heehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a happy new year to whoever you are who reads my blog.  Thanks for reading.  Though most of the time my grammar is very berterabur, you still come by and read.  Hahaha.  You make this blog who it is today.  Wakaka!  And I do apologised for the delay in updating.  I know some of you asik singgah mari, but still the same old story.  I'll try to change ok?  New year resolution.  Amin!  :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm back in playing my girl's Nintendo DS.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113612603678716742?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113612603678716742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113612603678716742&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113612603678716742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113612603678716742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2006/01/we-came-back-from-our-trip-day-before.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113484601665243625</id><published>2005-12-18T02:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.832+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Aaaaahhh...  I've finally gotten my well-deserved shopping spree.  It was a helluva fun to shop without worrying about the balance in the bank account.  Everytime I saw a discount or a sale sign in a store, I went in and bought at least something cos it's worth the offer, as they say.  It was really fun.  Macam tai tai.  Hee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I coloured and highlighted my short hair, too.  But, Urgh!  Too bright a brown.  I wanted something like Neena Mairata on news at Channel 5 but I got Lynn-entah-apa-entah.  I'll just have to get used to see my golden head now.  Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, anyway, I will go for now.  Will update again in a week time.  Meanwhile, I'll go and enjoy myself at Genting Highlands and Sunway Lagoon ;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113484601665243625?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113484601665243625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113484601665243625&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113484601665243625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113484601665243625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/12/aaaaahhh.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113458461809007045</id><published>2005-12-15T01:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.767+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>An aunt passed away yesterday.  She lived with my family when I was born till I was about five or six.  Even though we are not real close (since she lives in Malaysia), we do get along well when we met.  I can say she's my favourite aunt, considering the few numbers of aunts I have.  Her death is a shocking news, since my mom met her just two days before she died and she was quite well-looking despite being overweight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the whole family travelled to Kota Tinggi, Malaysia, yesterday.  And for the first time in my life, I kissed a dead person.  It was scary at first, but my mind quickly changed and thought of her in her life as someone who, I believe, loved me.  She without fail would ask my parents about me.  When she told my mom that she missed me, mom would call me on her mobile and let me talk to her.  And she would talk to me in that motherly tone, very loving and tender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad that during one of my cousins wedding last year, I had my camera with me and took a shot with her.  At least I have that picture as memory.  May she rest in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, I now realised that I have many cousins.  Really!  I met more that twenty of them yesterday.  All these while, I always grumbled that I have such small family.  As you can imagine, yeah, this is not a close-close family.  Funny how I started a conversation with this woman while she was trying to make her daughter sleep.  After a few minutes, I learned that she's a cousin's wife.  Frankly, I didn't know that her husband is my cousin.  Ahaks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now that the family has come together, I hope we'll get more closer.  At least to those that resides in Singapore.  Heh.  I even have a cousin who blogs.  Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to mention this.  I'm very grateful to my hubby.  He took urgent leave from work yesterday to be with us.  He drove the many miles without complain even though we took a wrong turn and ended up further than we should.  And he participated with the rituals till the end.  It's his first time.  I'm so proud of him.  And to my two kids, who in other events will complain and grumble and feeling cranky, surprisingly didn't do any of those things yesterday.  Thank you for being so understanding.  It means so much to me.  Love all three of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my bloggermates (eh, dah macam speech dapat award pulak!), I'm sorry for the lack of updates.  Sometimes I'm just plain lazy.  Heehee.  And oh yeah, I haven't done any ka-chings yet.  Soon.  Very soon.  So if any of you want to join me, let's make it a date this Friday.  Ahahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113458461809007045?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113458461809007045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113458461809007045&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113458461809007045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113458461809007045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/12/aunt-passed-away-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113344530635549250</id><published>2005-12-01T21:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.701+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>$,$$$ (December) + ($,$$$ x 1.75) = $$,$$$&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ka-Ching! Ka-Ching!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113344530635549250?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113344530635549250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113344530635549250&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113344530635549250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113344530635549250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/12/december-x-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113325121353121919</id><published>2005-11-29T15:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.621+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0075.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Celaka punya Genting!!!  To cancel a room they will only refund us 70% of the total room rate.  That will be about S$90 deduction!!!  What the f**k!  With S$90, I can buy many things from my favourite Bodyshop!!!  !@#$%^&amp;*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113325121353121919?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113325121353121919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113325121353121919&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113325121353121919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113325121353121919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/11/celaka-punya-genting-to-cancel-room.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113298187628839378</id><published>2005-11-26T12:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.556+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>After the last day of school year two Thursdays ago, I soaked my girl's pair of school shoes as usual.  Usually I will wash it the next morning after the grime and dirt, which seem to love her shoes very much, been loosened up and easy to come off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I didn't wash it the next day.  Or the next.  Or the next.  Or the next.  Or the next.  Or the next.   Or the next.   Or the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the heck!  So I put them, still dripping with water, in a plastic bag and threw it in the bin.  MUAHahahahaah!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't my girl get a new pair of shoes for the new school year???? :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113298187628839378?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113298187628839378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113298187628839378&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113298187628839378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113298187628839378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/11/after-last-day-of-school-year-two.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113288955506914910</id><published>2005-11-25T11:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.487+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was driving along KJE today when I noticed a new roadname.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all know there is Woodlands.  Do you know there is Bricklands?  Very soon there will be Stonelands.  Or even Tilelands.  Or even Parquetlands.  Maybe there'll even be Plasticlands.  The best of all will be Wonderlands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we can have them Wonderlands one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I'm 70.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like having the Integrated Resorts when my dad is 70.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's up with this post?!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113288955506914910?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113288955506914910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113288955506914910&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113288955506914910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113288955506914910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-was-driving-along-kje-today-when-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113286370610556960</id><published>2005-11-25T03:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.421+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Story time!  It's a long one but bear with me, eh.  I've had it in my chest for more than a decade.  No one knows.  Really.  And now everyone will know.  Whateva!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 17, I dated this guy whom I considered my first boyfriend.  Ehem.  He was the first guy whom I brought home to meet my parents and he, too, brought me to his.  It was a big deal then, to meet parents.  Haha.  And I was so flattered.  Betul.  Tak bedek.  Macam dah confirm gitu :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, one day in Ramadhan, I was at his place and his mom was doing some goodies.  I don't know what it's called exactly, but I believe it's 'keciputan'.  It's actually tiny balls made of flour that you later roll them on a bed of sesame seeds before you fry it.  So I sat on their old-fashioned 'kerusi Pak Awang' for about an hour and a half to make the tiny balls with his mom while he lounged in front of the tv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember if it was in a midst of my 'that-time-of-the-month', or I just had it there and then, but the next thing I remember was standing up and realising that I've dirtied the seat!  My God!  It was so bloody-soaked-in-a-blood-bloody!  I was scared shit horrified!  I sat back on it before his mom noticed.  My fingers continued doing the balls, but my mind was whirling like the tornado.  I didn't know what to do.  His mom kept talking and I kept nodding.  I couldn't think anymore.  I wanted to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment his mom left for the kitchen, I called him over and embarassingly told him the tragic event.  He was shocked when he saw it.  I can't blame him.  I was shocked myself!  It was the most humiliating thing I've ever done!  We sat there staring at each other, thinking what we should do.  Finally he told me to clean myself and let him handle things.  Yeah, as if!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, my blouse was long and could cover the mess I've made on myself.  I was prepared to face his mom.  I thought, that's it.  I'm never gonna step on his home again.  Never ever!  But when I came back to the living room, I saw no mess on the seat.  Smart-ass must've turned the cushion over.  But it still couldn't take away the humiliation.  Sigh.  He said he will do something about it another day and I was so grateful I could cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few days later, he said, "Mak bising pasal I dah tumpahkan kopi abih tak tahu nak bersihkan."  So the bloody thing turned dark and his mom assumed it's coffee, eh.  I expected him to clean it for me, but I guess I expected too much.  Poor makcik.  I feel bad.  Very bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's even worse, this makcik now happens to live with her eldest son just next block from mine.  When I see her, out of politeness, I'll stop by and chat.  And she never failed to bring up old memories when her younger son and I were together.  Especially, "Ingat tak dulu Ina (that's my other nick) tolong makcik buat kuih?" or "Ina tolong makcik buat kuih apa eh dulu?"  Gawwwwd, Makcik, must you recall THAT time???  I think she knooowwwwwwwsss!!!  Damn her son!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great.  It's off my chest now.  But why am I still feeling the burden?  I think I need to talk to her son and kick him in the ass for not doing what I expected him to do.  And by the way, for the record, this is not the reason why we broke up.  That will be another story, another time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hubby, me, too, have a humiliating story about the past that no one knows.  But I'm sharing it with you and the world now.  You only shared yours with me.  Do you know that I'm itching to spread it to the world?  Wakaka.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113286370610556960?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113286370610556960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113286370610556960&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113286370610556960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113286370610556960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/11/story-time-its-long-one-but-bear-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113282041745289546</id><published>2005-11-24T16:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.357+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Gossip time!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember my post a while ago about &lt;a href="http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-met-neighbour-this-afternoon.html"TARGET="_blank"&gt;an eye-opener&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, I saw the husband with his new family.  Apparently, the ex-wife who talked to me about divorcing him has got her divorce.  Duh.  The sad thing is, seeing the husband with their children and with his new wife, whom comes with a few children.  I assume the mother (the woman I talked to) lost custody of her children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how and where she is now.  Poor woman.  I don't think I can leave without my children.  No, I don't think it.  I know.  I'll go crazy.  Even worse, I'll die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113282041745289546?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113282041745289546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113282041745289546&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113282041745289546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113282041745289546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/11/gossip-time-remember-my-post-while-ago.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113280740398067143</id><published>2005-11-24T12:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.292+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Confession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I haven't been updating my blog is because... there's too much to update I don't know where to start!  There were Hari Raya celebration, gathering with friends, shopping, food, my kid's latest development (as if I update that much) and many more.  They go back 3 weeks I don't know what to do.  To ignore them and not put it up here seems like neglecting.  It's also some sort a reminder and memories to me, one that I can read again in the future.  Or even my kids and grandchildrens to read to know what had happened in my life during the time I was still alive :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to update them now, but honestly, they don't seem too important anymore.  Know what I mean?  I've forgotten the events and the feelings I had during the time.  I should've update my blog as soon as it happened.  But I didn't.  I prefer to watch the whole damn lot of 9 seasons of 'Friends' which I borrowed from Jolene, whom by the way, till now hasn't got a clue where season 10 is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we're on the subject, I'd love to get a whole set of 'Friends'.  I've been watching it on tv since season 2.  I would stare unbelievingly at someone when she or he said they hate 'Friends'.  How can anyone hate 'Friends'?  Maybe they're geeks.  Or no sense of humour.  Or their lives are so straight they couldn't bend over.  Ahaks!  By the by, where can I get the cheapest 'Friends' VCD?  And I really mean the cheeaaapeeeessst.  10 seasons, you know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's also the 6 seasons of Sex and the City which I heard is also very good.  I've never watched them before but if anyone of you has it, can I borrow? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok here's a problem I'm facing.  I booked 2 hotel rooms for mid-December at Genting Hotel for us and my parents in law.  Weird thing is, the hotel has charge us and the latest bill I get from the credit card company reflects the amount.  I've never encountered such things before.  Usually, other hotels charge us after the trip, not before.  Anyway, the problem is, we've paid but, parents-in-law decided not to go due to some glitches.  So now, I'm asking around if anyone wants to go with us, chargable of course :p  Let me know if you're interested, whoever you are :p  Either that or we try to cancel a room and get our money back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, I promised myself to update my blog frequently.  No matter how boring the day is.  Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113280740398067143?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113280740398067143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113280740398067143&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113280740398067143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113280740398067143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/11/confession.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113155759246779345</id><published>2005-11-10T01:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.221+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0056.jpg" align="left" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, ok!  I know I've not updated much for the past two weeks or so.  The reason being, er, busy?  :p  Anyway, it's better late than never, right?  Some of them are even more busy and have not updated their blogs for a while.  Pfft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's wishing all Muslim friends, bloggers, passers-by, strangers, a Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri.  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Maaf zahir dan batin kiranya pernah saya terkasar bahasa, tersindir, termengumpat, terlepas kata yang tak sepatutnya, tertanya benda yang tak bermakna, bergurau tapi terover, mengusik sampai terusik dan macam macam kesalahan yang sewaktu dengannya.  Ikhlas from my heart.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0057.jpg" align="right" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you believe we only started cleaning up the home just 2 days before the big day?  But hey, it was fun!  With the radio tuned to &lt;em&gt;Ria&lt;/em&gt; (which is the only time I listen to it) and raya songs blasting through the speakers, we very the bersungguh-sungguh cleaned the windows, fans, floors, doors, kitchen cabinets.  Really.  It's not like we're expecting any guest for the first few days, but the atmosphere was there.  Setahun tak sekali.  My home gleams from the various liquid cleaners we used.  Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0058.jpg" align="left" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We visited my parent's on the first day of raya.  Mom's cooking is the best!  (well, everyone says the same thing about their mom's cooking, eh?)  I've heard some who says they're sick of raya dishes by now.  Well, I'm not.  Give me rendang, ketupat, lontong, lodeh, sambal goreng now, I can still eat them!  By the way, the lontong containers picture was taken at my home.  Hubby made them.  Really.  My Chinese husband learned to make them a few years ago and has been making it for our guest ever since.  I'm so proud of him.  Heh.  And he will glow when guest compliment him.  That will motivate him to do it again year after year.  Chia yo!  :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We invited my Chinese side of the family and some friends last Sunday.  It was a blast.  Though some of them couldn't make it since it's only the 4th day of raya and they were probably busy visiting or receiving their own relatives.  Here are some pictures taken from that day.  (Not many cos most of them are too candid)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0064.jpg"/&gt;     &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0074.jpg"/&gt;     &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0065.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0066.jpg"/&gt;     &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0067.jpg"/&gt;     &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0068.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0069.jpg"/&gt;     &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0070.jpg"/&gt;     &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0071.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0072.jpg"/&gt;     &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0073.jpg"/&gt;     &lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0063.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;For those who came, thank you for making our day.  It's the most joyous feeling to see them enjoying our hard-work in preparing the food.  For those who didn't come (you know who you are, pfft!), next time try harder.  Haha.  Or at least, inform us earlier so we don't waste so much food, eh.  Heard of RSVP, right?  Dum dee dum.  And for those whom I've not invite (er, excluding strangers), you're welcome to my place anytime.  Just gimme a ring-a-ding-ding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, did I say I love invitations?  We have 4 invites this weekend.  It's going to be fun fattening myself.  Ahaks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113155759246779345?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113155759246779345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113155759246779345&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113155759246779345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113155759246779345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/11/ok-ok-i-know-ive-not-updated-much-for.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7277398.post-113043703159528149</id><published>2005-10-28T02:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T15:47:20.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0053.jpg" align="right" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;My boy celebrated his 2nd birthday last Monday.  Spent the day running errands and finally brought the kids to Kidszone at Downtown East where they had so much fun.  At night, we had a small gathering within family for dinner.  When we sang Happy Birthday to him, my boy was looking around at us in wonder.  He tried to blow out the candles but at last got his sister to help.  I can't believe he's into his 2nd year.  Time flies so fast...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img hspace="25" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/image0054.jpg" align="left" vspace="15" border="0" /&gt;Anyway, earlier that day, his mummy bought a $50 product from Loreal and got a free makeover.  Heehee.  The cameraman took 5 shots because I wasn't satisfied with the outcome.  Wanted to ask him to shoot more but shy lah.  Heehee.  And this is the best (which is not best at all) of them all.  Chebah!  &lt;em&gt;(Gemuknyer aku!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok the days are moving very fast.  I have tons to do at home.  Cleaning, preparation for Hari Raya next week.  Shop for shoes, haircut etc.  I've yet to start any!  So expect to see this post for the next week or so.  In the meantime, have fun doing whatever you're doing!  Ciao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7277398-113043703159528149?l=mylinabs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/feeds/113043703159528149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7277398&amp;postID=113043703159528149&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113043703159528149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7277398/posts/default/113043703159528149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mylinabs.blogspot.com/2005/10/my-boy-celebrated-his-2nd-birthday.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04341590866622633690</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/mylinabs/7bfc51f8.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry></feed>
