<?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-1587359208538332364</id><updated>2012-02-14T11:12:50.937+08:00</updated><category term='photos'/><title type='text'>I'm Joycelyn</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>84</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-9215929638694438029</id><published>2012-02-14T11:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-14T11:12:50.951+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good girls/Nice guys finish last</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/aTfg1I1YWLY?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a pussy even if I teared at this song. I'm just stupid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-9215929638694438029?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/9215929638694438029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/good-girlsnice-guys-finish-last.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/9215929638694438029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/9215929638694438029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/good-girlsnice-guys-finish-last.html' title='Good girls/Nice guys finish last'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/aTfg1I1YWLY/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-3102191486962821985</id><published>2012-02-14T07:24:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-14T07:27:14.827+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G_YCmnBU-CQ/TzlQhwCFskI/AAAAAAAAD3o/37MnexAKrGc/s1600/IMG_2049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G_YCmnBU-CQ/TzlQhwCFskI/AAAAAAAAD3o/37MnexAKrGc/s320/IMG_2049.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Haiyo!! Don't take photo of me lah. I shy.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZlkeRDluQ08/TzlQ0gtHmpI/AAAAAAAAD3w/C8JheGVvt6w/s1600/IMG_2050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZlkeRDluQ08/TzlQ0gtHmpI/AAAAAAAAD3w/C8JheGVvt6w/s320/IMG_2050.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Okay lah. Just one, okay?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2kdaFWxMcb4/TzlRIHx9jnI/AAAAAAAAD34/Thm78wdDGXY/s1600/IMG_2051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2kdaFWxMcb4/TzlRIHx9jnI/AAAAAAAAD34/Thm78wdDGXY/s320/IMG_2051.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh hai. Why you taking again. I thought I said just one only?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bz8iDIpByxk/TzlRWzLXLaI/AAAAAAAAD4A/yLGQlpjkFuc/s1600/IMG_2052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bz8iDIpByxk/TzlRWzLXLaI/AAAAAAAAD4A/yLGQlpjkFuc/s320/IMG_2052.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Woo. My foot. Nom nom nom. I'm a future&amp;nbsp;gymnast. Nom nom. Or someone who will be really good at yoga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yWI_IWyYst8/TzlRtDEE44I/AAAAAAAAD4I/on0Qhho0CoY/s1600/IMG_2053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yWI_IWyYst8/TzlRtDEE44I/AAAAAAAAD4I/on0Qhho0CoY/s320/IMG_2053.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Eh. Why you pulling me away from nomming my foot.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5NipCe-J9Bc/TzlSIPL1X4I/AAAAAAAAD4Q/2sfl9891qUc/s1600/IMG_2054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5NipCe-J9Bc/TzlSIPL1X4I/AAAAAAAAD4Q/2sfl9891qUc/s320/IMG_2054.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;MY. FOOT. MUST. NOM. IT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Btow_WVDT-4/TzlSgOgWfVI/AAAAAAAAD4Y/Qto46aG4YnY/s1600/IMG_2055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Btow_WVDT-4/TzlSgOgWfVI/AAAAAAAAD4Y/Qto46aG4YnY/s320/IMG_2055.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You not bored one ah. Keep taking my photos.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m_c1rSLDhCs/TzlTewc9VlI/AAAAAAAAD4g/CnB-T_TEPVw/s1600/IMG_2056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m_c1rSLDhCs/TzlTewc9VlI/AAAAAAAAD4g/CnB-T_TEPVw/s320/IMG_2056.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Eh? What's that behind you? O.O&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B9FMT8SMrnY/TzlUGQof7cI/AAAAAAAAD4o/aZpvzRoAAK0/s1600/IMG_2057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B9FMT8SMrnY/TzlUGQof7cI/AAAAAAAAD4o/aZpvzRoAAK0/s320/IMG_2057.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Now it's on your right!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9b6GgXYFKnA/TzlU8_IWxGI/AAAAAAAAD4w/Y-emfPNdFJA/s1600/IMG_2058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9b6GgXYFKnA/TzlU8_IWxGI/AAAAAAAAD4w/Y-emfPNdFJA/s320/IMG_2058.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Chey. It's ah gong. Hai ah gong!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EuOZ_NzVZYo/TzlVZcj1kWI/AAAAAAAAD44/ripKp1uKyw8/s1600/IMG_2059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EuOZ_NzVZYo/TzlVZcj1kWI/AAAAAAAAD44/ripKp1uKyw8/s320/IMG_2059.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ah gong, whatcha doing?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bCYcnfo1H8o/TzlVt6g8rnI/AAAAAAAAD5A/qtAYMIB48aE/s1600/IMG_2060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bCYcnfo1H8o/TzlVt6g8rnI/AAAAAAAAD5A/qtAYMIB48aE/s320/IMG_2060.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh. You again. Hai yi yi!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qBfLC4qPCnE/TzlVwApn7CI/AAAAAAAAD5I/T6lXG3FAUXU/s1600/IMG_2064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qBfLC4qPCnE/TzlVwApn7CI/AAAAAAAAD5I/T6lXG3FAUXU/s320/IMG_2064.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't disturb my roll-about time okay?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q1vnBCCxSAQ/TzlVyqjLCpI/AAAAAAAAD5Q/HoU3yCe9kBA/s1600/IMG_2065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q1vnBCCxSAQ/TzlVyqjLCpI/AAAAAAAAD5Q/HoU3yCe9kBA/s320/IMG_2065.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Okay lah. Po po massaging my tummy, so I got time to take photo with you. Happy liao right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6HntTkTnoYw/TzlV0uWsTTI/AAAAAAAAD5Y/7ccywFbFw7w/s1600/IMG_2066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6HntTkTnoYw/TzlV0uWsTTI/AAAAAAAAD5Y/7ccywFbFw7w/s320/IMG_2066.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yi yi, you look like a crazy maniac stalker over here. I know I'm cute, but don't scare me like this can?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f8htanMyRGU/TzlV2npUtlI/AAAAAAAAD5g/XtMJwbYWUQw/s1600/IMG_2067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f8htanMyRGU/TzlV2npUtlI/AAAAAAAAD5g/XtMJwbYWUQw/s320/IMG_2067.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Okay then, I shall smile awkwardly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aeu19o95XAc/TzlV5M6EMMI/AAAAAAAAD5o/-fcF2byykw8/s1600/IMG_2068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aeu19o95XAc/TzlV5M6EMMI/AAAAAAAAD5o/-fcF2byykw8/s320/IMG_2068.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And not change my expression. Mommy should stop letting me watch Kristen Stewart.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(Joycelyn: Nope. Your mommy should stop letting you watch Bruce Lee/Yip Man movies. You kick my face, neck, boob, headbutt my eye and throat and finally tug my hair repeatedly. Violent cutie ah you)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mIviim5v08w/TzlV7d5zH_I/AAAAAAAAD5w/rm2T7gMvwOo/s1600/IMG_2069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mIviim5v08w/TzlV7d5zH_I/AAAAAAAAD5w/rm2T7gMvwOo/s320/IMG_2069.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh hai yi yi. Why your face so big?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_s8f4tHtF-E/TzlV9qRbFpI/AAAAAAAAD54/jM1gCu6xJqk/s1600/IMG_2070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_s8f4tHtF-E/TzlV9qRbFpI/AAAAAAAAD54/jM1gCu6xJqk/s320/IMG_2070.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ooh. BOOK!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EDyhgf-6Wss/TzlV__z0MNI/AAAAAAAAD6A/VR7qd3QQ93M/s1600/IMG_2074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EDyhgf-6Wss/TzlV__z0MNI/AAAAAAAAD6A/VR7qd3QQ93M/s320/IMG_2074.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;BOOK BOOK BOOK!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gwOQitfHDfs/TzlWCFfsyHI/AAAAAAAAD6I/dhUEJTKRlRA/s1600/IMG_2075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gwOQitfHDfs/TzlWCFfsyHI/AAAAAAAAD6I/dhUEJTKRlRA/s320/IMG_2075.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hmmm. Why am I just looking at the back page of it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jSxQXAP6JVk/TzlWEeLhlFI/AAAAAAAAD6Q/27Bfdw1EBYw/s1600/IMG_2076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jSxQXAP6JVk/TzlWEeLhlFI/AAAAAAAAD6Q/27Bfdw1EBYw/s320/IMG_2076.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh hai. Yi yi!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A5aB-GZ0zsA/TzlWGmJYSUI/AAAAAAAAD6Y/HxDyjoHm1ow/s1600/IMG_2077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A5aB-GZ0zsA/TzlWGmJYSUI/AAAAAAAAD6Y/HxDyjoHm1ow/s320/IMG_2077.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;YI YI!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Mj8wTt6qczs/TzlWIzcos3I/AAAAAAAAD6g/F6PhfaQhpvY/s1600/IMG_2078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Mj8wTt6qczs/TzlWIzcos3I/AAAAAAAAD6g/F6PhfaQhpvY/s320/IMG_2078.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh hai yi yi!! You finally heard me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S9lq45LT0P8/TzlWMbIZp0I/AAAAAAAAD6o/zQushwbSFrY/s1600/IMG_2079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S9lq45LT0P8/TzlWMbIZp0I/AAAAAAAAD6o/zQushwbSFrY/s320/IMG_2079.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yi yi, I shall smack your nose :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-3102191486962821985?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3102191486962821985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/haiyo-dont-take-photo-of-me-lah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3102191486962821985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3102191486962821985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/haiyo-dont-take-photo-of-me-lah.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G_YCmnBU-CQ/TzlQhwCFskI/AAAAAAAAD3o/37MnexAKrGc/s72-c/IMG_2049.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-6513679874499586180</id><published>2012-02-14T00:57:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-14T00:59:16.378+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy love day,</title><content type='html'>To all my lovelies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to shop for quite a few things and had quite a few pictures taken today. Of myself, obviously. Sorry for the disappointment :((&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, my phone's dead so I can't exactly transfer the photos now. Wait for me people, kay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Happy Valentine's to all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who are in a relationship, stay sweet together. And cherish each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for those who aren't, ENJOY every single minute of it. With me :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-6513679874499586180?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6513679874499586180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/happy-love-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6513679874499586180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6513679874499586180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/happy-love-day.html' title='Happy love day,'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-190522059260179369</id><published>2012-02-12T17:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T17:00:05.867+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's the first time I've been so hesitant in publishing an entry</title><content type='html'>OKAY. I give up.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the 4th time I'm typing this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just going to end with these:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I know how important money is&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I admit I'm living a very good life now&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My daddy is doing quite well with his company&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jiefu is eyeing daddy's company&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Zeh is eyeing mommy's house&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If one day I ever really need a job, then it's because zeh and jiefu finally siphoned all the cash from daddy's company and sold mommy's house.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's it. I'm not going to say what else mommy told me. It's just not right saying bad stuff of zeh. Just not right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-190522059260179369?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/190522059260179369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/its-first-time-ive-been-so-hesitant-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/190522059260179369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/190522059260179369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/its-first-time-ive-been-so-hesitant-in.html' title='It&apos;s the first time I&apos;ve been so hesitant in publishing an entry'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-5553113523147521340</id><published>2012-02-12T08:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T08:03:57.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck this. I'm just going to ignore ALL my problems and hopefully, it'll go away soon.</title><content type='html'>I'm tired of being the one who plays Aunt Agony all the time without anyone appreciating me/being there for me as well/thinking I'll backstab you with your problems to someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like being a counsellor and not getting paid for it. What's more, I do have my down days as well and if there's no one who could be there for me, then I would like to be left alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do problems have to pile up for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what. Fuck this. I'm just going to ignore ALL my problems and hopefully, it'll go away soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for people who doesn't appreciate my listening ear, fuck you too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as for people who do, cmere, let me give you a hug. I'll never betray you, you know that :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-5553113523147521340?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5553113523147521340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/fuck-this-im-just-going-to-ignore-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5553113523147521340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5553113523147521340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/fuck-this-im-just-going-to-ignore-all.html' title='Fuck this. I&apos;m just going to ignore ALL my problems and hopefully, it&apos;ll go away soon.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-811836504551131838</id><published>2012-02-12T06:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T06:03:05.558+08:00</updated><title type='text'>155 questions</title><content type='html'>1: Full name&lt;br /&gt;Joycelyn 林依靜&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2: Zodiac sign&lt;br /&gt;Capricorn &amp;lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3: 3 Fears&lt;br /&gt;a) Dark&lt;br /&gt;b) Being left alone/loneliness&lt;br /&gt;c) Failure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4: 3 things I love&lt;br /&gt;a) Fun&lt;br /&gt;b) Cute boys&lt;br /&gt;c) Good food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5: 4 turns on&lt;br /&gt;a) Bright eyes&lt;br /&gt;b) Cute smiles&lt;br /&gt;c) Gentlemanly gestures&lt;br /&gt;d) Cute face :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6: 4 turns off&lt;br /&gt;a) Touchy feely&lt;br /&gt;b) Expecting a girl to pay for him/pay first but never return the moolah&lt;br /&gt;c) Naggy people&lt;br /&gt;d) Uses profanities in every single statement they make&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7: My best friend&lt;br /&gt;Myself!! Cause I'm a&amp;nbsp;narcissist like that. Or that I'm #foreveralone&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8: Sexual orientation&lt;br /&gt;Straight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9: My best first date&lt;br /&gt;By the suntec circular fountain thing on new year's eve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10: How tall am I&lt;br /&gt;158cm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11: What do I miss&lt;br /&gt;My childhood and you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12: What time were I born&lt;br /&gt;Afternoon-ish, I guess?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13: Favourite color&lt;br /&gt;Black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14: Do I have a crush&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15: Favourite quote&lt;br /&gt;自己選擇的路，跪著爬著也要把它走完&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16: Favourite place&lt;br /&gt;Right beside you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17: Favourite food&lt;br /&gt;Fries!!! OMG!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18: Do I use sarcasm&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19: What am I listening to right now&lt;br /&gt;Invisible - BTR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20: First thing I notice in new person&lt;br /&gt;Face/eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21: Shoe size&lt;br /&gt;38&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22: Eye color&lt;br /&gt;Brown, but I always make it purple :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23: Hair color&lt;br /&gt;Brown, but I try to make it as ashy hazelnut as possible :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24: Favourite style of clothing&lt;br /&gt;Boyfriend shirts/ Oversized tees with chunky belts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25: Ever done a prank call?&lt;br /&gt;Yep. To the fire station/civil defence (995) no less. I was young at that time, don't judge me!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26: What colour of underwear I'm wearing now?&lt;br /&gt;What underwear *winks*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27: Meaning behind my URL&lt;br /&gt;Who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28: Favourite movie&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. I can't decide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29: Favourite song&lt;br /&gt;Love's to Blame. For now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30: Favourite band&lt;br /&gt;Err, let's just put BTR for now cause I'm listening to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31: How I feel right now&lt;br /&gt;Angst, bored and sad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32: Someone I love&lt;br /&gt;You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33: My current relationship status&lt;br /&gt;Single. But not available unless you're him :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34: My relationship with my parents&lt;br /&gt;Love/hate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35: Favourite holiday&lt;br /&gt;Xmas!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36: Tattoos and piercing i have&lt;br /&gt;None&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37: Tattoos and piercing i want&lt;br /&gt;TRUTH inked on the inside of my wrist. But no piercings though. Not even on my ears :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38: The reason I joined Tumblr&lt;br /&gt;Ian Somerhalder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Actually, I don't hate him. But he hates me. Ah wells. '94 what. Cannot blame. Maturity level not yet there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?&lt;br /&gt;Nope :((&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?&lt;br /&gt;Er NOPE. My last text was to settle a fight in Rebel (when I'm not even there tonight) But he's a very nice guy. So if it's a truth or dare thing, I wouldn't mind. But no feelings attached lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42: When did I last hold hands?&lt;br /&gt;Err, last week. Exactly when, can't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?&lt;br /&gt;2 hours. Cause I can't get out of bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44: Have I shaved your legs in the past three days?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. I never got about shaving legs. But I do shave other places :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45: Where am I right now?&lt;br /&gt;In bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46: If I were drunk &amp;amp; can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?&lt;br /&gt;IDK. I haven't been there yet but I wanna be, at some point of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?&lt;br /&gt;Reasonable level, but a tad louder than&amp;nbsp;necessary&amp;nbsp;if I wanna drown out sounds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?&lt;br /&gt;With Daddy, yes. Mommy, no. She's taking of Kacia now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49: Am I excited for anything?&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51: How often do I wear a fake smile?&lt;br /&gt;Daily. Cause of shitty reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52: When was the last time I hugged someone?&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?&lt;br /&gt;I'd be scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55: What is something I disliked about today?&lt;br /&gt;Seeing tweets and texts filled with angst about me, the moment I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?&lt;br /&gt;Ian Somerhalder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57: What do I think about most?&lt;br /&gt;Everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58: What’s my strangest talent?&lt;br /&gt;I can speak really fast if I want to. With an accent. In both English AND Mandarin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59: Do I have any strange phobias?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?&lt;br /&gt;Behind. Unless I'm in makeup and there will be photoshop afterwards, then in front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61: What was the last lie I told?&lt;br /&gt;Go away. I don't wanna see you ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;62: Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?&lt;br /&gt;Phones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. And yes. I'm super scared of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64: Do I believe in magic?&lt;br /&gt;Not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65: Do I believe in luck?&lt;br /&gt;YEP!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;66: What's the weather like right now?&lt;br /&gt;Dark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67: What was the last book I've read?&lt;br /&gt;Some book on vampires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. I get dizzy from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69: Do I have any nicknames?&lt;br /&gt;Yep. Loads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70: What was the worst injury I've ever had?&lt;br /&gt;Back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;71: Do I spend money or save it?&lt;br /&gt;Both&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;72: Can I touch my nose with a tounge?&lt;br /&gt;With whose tongue are we talking about here? Mine, nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74: Favourite animal?&lt;br /&gt;Puppies!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?&lt;br /&gt;Sleeping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?&lt;br /&gt;Lucifer something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?&lt;br /&gt;No idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;78: How can you win my heart?&lt;br /&gt;Be good looking, gentlemanly and cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone?&lt;br /&gt;BRB&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80: What is my favorite word?&lt;br /&gt;Fuck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr&lt;br /&gt;Er? imjoycelyn.tumblr.com x5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?&lt;br /&gt;I LOVEY YOU!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;83: Do I have any relatives in jail?&lt;br /&gt;Not that I know of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?&lt;br /&gt;Mindreading powers. Or vampiric ones. Either/or. I'm not choosy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on?&lt;br /&gt;Who do I exactly love right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;86: What is my current desktop picture?&lt;br /&gt;Ian Somerhalder + Paul Wesley. On loop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;87: Had sex?&lt;br /&gt;Huh what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;88: Bought condoms?&lt;br /&gt;Huh what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;89: Gotten pregnant?&lt;br /&gt;Huh what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90: Failed a class?&lt;br /&gt;Huh what? ... Okay lah, yep. But none during my important exams. And oh. I don't talk about my sex life online. NEVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;91: Kissed a boy?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;92: Kissed a girl?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;94: Had job?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;95: Left the house without my wallet?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;96: Bullied someone on the internet?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;97: Had sex in public?&lt;br /&gt;Huh what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;98: Played on a sports team?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;99: Smoked weed?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100: Did drugs?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. But I was given morphine by the doctors though&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;101: Smoked cigarettes?&lt;br /&gt;Used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;102: Drank alcohol?&lt;br /&gt;YEP!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;104: Been overweight?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;105: Been underweight?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;106: Been to a wedding?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?&lt;br /&gt;More than that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?&lt;br /&gt;More than that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;109: Been outside my home country?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;110: Gotten my heart broken?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;111: Been to a professional sports game?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;112: Broken a bone?&lt;br /&gt;Kind of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;113: Cut myself?&lt;br /&gt;Yep. Well, it was out of anger and to prove something. I was in TW with my ex and he was like, you can only go back to SG when you die. Then I took my keys out and slashed my wrists. LOL. We were all young and crazy before lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;114: Been to prom?&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;115: Been in airplane?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;116: Fly by helicopter?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;117: What concerts have I been to?&lt;br /&gt;Eh?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;119: Learned another language?&lt;br /&gt;Trying to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;120: Wore make up?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;121: Lost my virginity before I was 18?&lt;br /&gt;Huh what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;122: Had oral sex?&lt;br /&gt;Huh what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;123: Dyed my hair?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;124: Voted in a presidential election?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;125: Rode in an ambulance?&lt;br /&gt;I think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;126: Had a surgery?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;127: Met someone famous?&lt;br /&gt;Define famous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;128: Stalked someone on a social network?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;129: Peed outside?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;130: Been fishing?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;131: Helped with charity?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;132: Been rejected by a crush?&lt;br /&gt;Er. Nope. For I don't confess, and therefore never rejected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;133: Broken a mirror?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;134: What do I want for birthday?&lt;br /&gt;You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names?&lt;br /&gt;2. No idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;136: Was I named after anyone?&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;137: Do I like my handwriting?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;138: What was my favourite toy as a child?&lt;br /&gt;Piakchu when I'm older and a tiny little big bird soft toy when I was really little. But all time favourite is my chou chou pillow which mommy attempted to throw it away so many times but failed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;139: Favourite Tv Show?&lt;br /&gt;Kang Xi Lai Le&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;140: Where do I want to live when older?&lt;br /&gt;In Singapore. No where else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;141: Play any musical instrument?&lt;br /&gt;Used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;142: One of my scars, how did I get it?&lt;br /&gt;BATTLESCARS!! Okay lah,&amp;nbsp;surgery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;143: Favourite pizza toping?&lt;br /&gt;Capsicums, onions... cheese. I CAN'T DECIDE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;144: Am I afraid of the dark?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;145: Am I afraid of heights?&lt;br /&gt;Kind of, yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?&lt;br /&gt;Yep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;148: What I'm really bad at&lt;br /&gt;Being friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;149: What my greatest achievments are&lt;br /&gt;Grades&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me&lt;br /&gt;No idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;151: What I'd do if I won in a lottery&lt;br /&gt;Never will. Cause I don't do lottery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;152: What do I like about myself&lt;br /&gt;Nothing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;153: My closest Tumblr friend&lt;br /&gt;Huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;154: Something I fantasise about&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;155: Any question you'd like&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-811836504551131838?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/811836504551131838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/155-questions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/811836504551131838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/811836504551131838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/155-questions.html' title='155 questions'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-584043841281947058</id><published>2012-02-12T04:10:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T04:12:58.346+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am sorry for not realizing this earlier</title><content type='html'>I'm typing this on my iPhone because I think I need to get this out in the open. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish that you are one of my more precious friends and I wouldn't like us to have any misunderstanding between us, so here goes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea where you got to notion that I have been speaking bad things of you behind you back. I haven't. Seriously dude. Of all people, I wouldn't do that to you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Even if I'm with my cliqueys, we do not talk behind your back. Because we think you are good enough a guy and you don't deserve this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So since this is out there in the air, I hope you're gonna talk to me soon and clear this misunderstanding okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sorry I didn't realize this soon enough. Still friends? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-584043841281947058?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/584043841281947058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-sorry-for-not-realizing-this-earlier.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/584043841281947058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/584043841281947058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-sorry-for-not-realizing-this-earlier.html' title='I am sorry for not realizing this earlier'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-1443545745856129115</id><published>2012-02-11T18:46:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T18:46:41.585+08:00</updated><title type='text'>No wonder my ear itchy die me. LOL.</title><content type='html'>Two proper entries in one day. Boy, am I on fire or what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, this is just going to be a short entry because I'm too effing hungry to concentrate and I just wanna rant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry sweetie. But I don't we can work out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not about the age. It's about the level of maturity. Remember my puppies analogy? See, in a relationship, I'd very much rather be the puppy and sadly, there can only be one of it in every relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, I do quite a bit of snooping about whenever I'm bored. And I don't mind when I see you talking about me so freely but even to the point where your friends could mention my name so publicly? Erm dude, I think we have a problem here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm just going to laugh this off for now. If I do snoop around and see the same thing continuing, to be honest, please be prepared for some sort of&amp;nbsp;confrontation&amp;nbsp;kay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's nothing bad about me but I just don't like the idea where we barely knew each other, barely speak to each other, barely have any interaction of any sort... and there you are, having your friend mentioning me to you in a conversation. It's weird and awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that being said, I don't think you know me enough for me to be a topic that you can bring up over coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if it's something good about me, don't even bother saying it, okay?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-1443545745856129115?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1443545745856129115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/no-wonder-my-ear-itchy-die-me-lol.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1443545745856129115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1443545745856129115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/no-wonder-my-ear-itchy-die-me-lol.html' title='No wonder my ear itchy die me. LOL.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-8970221809496297623</id><published>2012-02-11T06:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T06:58:31.870+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I shall and I will go shop alone on one of the weekdays next week.</title><content type='html'>If I'm still not confined to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-8970221809496297623?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8970221809496297623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-shall-and-i-will-go-shop-alone-on-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8970221809496297623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8970221809496297623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-shall-and-i-will-go-shop-alone-on-one.html' title='I shall and I will go shop alone on one of the weekdays next week.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-2051128092820898264</id><published>2012-02-11T06:50:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T06:57:10.224+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I finally had the motivation to blog. YAY</title><content type='html'>For those who had been following my twitter, you would have known that I've been terribly sick since last Saturday and am still horribly down with a monstrous flu and swollen tonsils.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have been coughing so much that I actually woke Mommy up from her sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually no. I should say that I've been so sick that I can find nothing to rant about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that seems like it has more impact than waking someone up with my coughing fits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mainly 1) I'm lacking in the energy and motivation department to actually be bothered about people stepping on my tails. I just want them to go away rather than having myself to fight back. And 2) I've been staying in bed for the past week and couldn't see the stuff that's happening around me. Again, even when there is, I'd hope they go away and disappear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I used to have a few issues on hand. But I've decided to not follow up on it anymore. Too sick to be bothered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the extent I don't mind losing friends anymore. I just want the problems to disappear, go away, out of sight, out of mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thanks to the period calender on iPhone, my PMS should be setting in very soon. And PMS + flu = unstoppable. I hope I don't kill anyone in my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully I can be up by this weekend cause I refuse to go back to my old lifestyle of being locked up. Yes, locked up. And I'm not even kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since I really want to rant about something, let me think what are the little things that had managed to&amp;nbsp;weasel&amp;nbsp;into my life despite me trying to shut it all out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Hmm, weaselled is more of squeezing out than&amp;nbsp;squeezing&amp;nbsp;in right? Oh fuck. I've terrible command in English, let's just put it this way.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh okay. I've been twittering a lot so most of my stuff are actually up there, all my daily rants and stuff, so a couple of days (or was it yesterday), I've posted a tweet saying I've rejected guys even before V day and therefore am fated to be #foreveralone. But at least this means I've stood my ground. GOOD!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually I'm going to be a bitch and I'm not afraid to say it. I know if I put it up on FB, Siripon (or Oliver in the past, he seems to be at peace with me for the last couple of months) is going to slam me hard on it but well, I'm hoping that with his freedom of speech comes with the freedom of knowing when to shut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, I only would consider guys who look truly cute. Or generally good looking. Well, with my eyecandies being on such a certain high level, my tastes acquired are seemingly escalating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ian Somerhalder, James Maslow, 羅志祥, 吳克群&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of them are really different entities, but one thing in common, they all look good. As in dayum girl, these are some hot bitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I appreciate guys who are generally clean-looking, gentlemanly, have a good sense of humour and not touchy-feely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of the 4, I deem clean-looking to be one of the most important of them all. That's why I always say I like my boys in shirts. Clean and smart yo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But sadly, not all my boys like to be in shirts. Well, I accept tees too. But tees are only acceptable with abs and&amp;nbsp;biceps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: I'm saying this as my boys. Not my friends. Friends, you can continue with whatever you like :)))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. I'm going to stop about all these&amp;nbsp;superficial&amp;nbsp;stuff. I'll go lose some weight first before continuing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, I've actually placed a mental note to rant about Siripon when I've mentioned him a couple of scrolls up. He was my Secondary School mate who went over to the States to study. Was never close with him but heard that he always got&amp;nbsp;ostracised&amp;nbsp;back in our schooling days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never really knew why until for the couple of months, he's been annoying the shit out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think he's the epitome of the kind of guys whom I said that I can never win them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I say I wanna go right, he'd comment and said that I should go left while giving me thousands of reason behind it. And a couple of days later, I said okay, maybe I should go left, he would again comment and say that I should go right and give me another thousand of some sort of reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SERIOUSLY?! HOW TO WIN AGAINST GUYS LIKE THIS?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go right, cannot. Go left, cannot. Stay here, cannot. Stay there, cannot. Do something, cannot. Don't do anything, cannot. Go out. Cannot. Stay in, cannot/ WHO ARE YOU TO ME?! WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO?! BLOCK YOU AH?! #YouNotPekChekIPekChekAlready&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worse of all, he actually commented on my looks. Saying that I look ugly. Okay, I won't attack him base on looks because mommy taught me not to take advantage of people who is weak in any field/department that we're competing in but honestly, I don't look good. But I'm sure I do look better than him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I can fit through doors without getting stuck, I can see my eyes even without eyeliner or lashes, and I know the invention of deodorant and perfume. Speaking of which, I only use Versace. One certain scent of Versace to be technical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't kind of collect perfumes, but thank you. Appreciate and love it too though :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that better note than the ranting one, I shall end this entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-2051128092820898264?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2051128092820898264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-finally-had-motivation-to-blog-yay.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/2051128092820898264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/2051128092820898264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-finally-had-motivation-to-blog-yay.html' title='I finally had the motivation to blog. YAY'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-1271869899059593512</id><published>2012-02-10T15:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T23:06:50.840+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GyDVsoLNMuU/TzTGkNH8TVI/AAAAAAAAD2w/fab_UQ2OLSk/s1600/IMG_2004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GyDVsoLNMuU/TzTGkNH8TVI/AAAAAAAAD2w/fab_UQ2OLSk/s320/IMG_2004.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMMcskpnhYc/TzTGmi-E6vI/AAAAAAAAD24/Wm8Xf2x_CLw/s1600/IMG_2007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MMMcskpnhYc/TzTGmi-E6vI/AAAAAAAAD24/Wm8Xf2x_CLw/s320/IMG_2007.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wdGingaPHxA/TzTGp8sIHKI/AAAAAAAAD3A/JnDOMJrDqmM/s1600/IMG_2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wdGingaPHxA/TzTGp8sIHKI/AAAAAAAAD3A/JnDOMJrDqmM/s320/IMG_2012.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HuR74jelseg/TzTGswV6X3I/AAAAAAAAD3I/DfYfhNmml08/s1600/IMG_2017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HuR74jelseg/TzTGswV6X3I/AAAAAAAAD3I/DfYfhNmml08/s320/IMG_2017.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--7eJ5Ko42oU/TzTGvl4-AtI/AAAAAAAAD3Q/73Zb0s3GIkg/s1600/IMG_2030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--7eJ5Ko42oU/TzTGvl4-AtI/AAAAAAAAD3Q/73Zb0s3GIkg/s320/IMG_2030.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ckhVxWCs_z8/TzTGyK1T4bI/AAAAAAAAD3Y/aqt-1K7X9-A/s1600/IMG_2032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ckhVxWCs_z8/TzTGyK1T4bI/AAAAAAAAD3Y/aqt-1K7X9-A/s320/IMG_2032.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L3bSkA9c6Ac/TzTG0zn6UQI/AAAAAAAAD3g/WNWR2SAh60A/s1600/IMG_2033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L3bSkA9c6Ac/TzTG0zn6UQI/AAAAAAAAD3g/WNWR2SAh60A/s320/IMG_2033.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-1271869899059593512?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1271869899059593512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1271869899059593512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1271869899059593512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GyDVsoLNMuU/TzTGkNH8TVI/AAAAAAAAD2w/fab_UQ2OLSk/s72-c/IMG_2004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-8778227893818764529</id><published>2012-02-10T05:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T05:20:51.960+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-81q-mr-QDJ0/TzQ2FFqesAI/AAAAAAAAD2Q/NjcAKag7G2M/s1600/IMG_2025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-81q-mr-QDJ0/TzQ2FFqesAI/AAAAAAAAD2Q/NjcAKag7G2M/s320/IMG_2025.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The only one who could make everyone so happy and create a huge fuss for...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W5eWX8blqNc/TzQ2a3D7rwI/AAAAAAAAD2Y/iaqVUl7Xncc/s1600/IMG_2026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W5eWX8blqNc/TzQ2a3D7rwI/AAAAAAAAD2Y/iaqVUl7Xncc/s320/IMG_2026.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our little baby Kacia!!! Isn't she a beauty?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A investment for 18 years. Technically 17 years and 4-5 months? Any one?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Of course, I'll personally look into the background and personality checks. Heh. Kidding. But if anyone treats our Baby Kacia unfairly, I'll be sure to whoop his ass. And yes, Baby Kacia is so awesome that the baby in front of her name has to be&amp;nbsp;capitalized&amp;nbsp;as well. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-8778227893818764529?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8778227893818764529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/only-one-who-could-make-everyone-so.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8778227893818764529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8778227893818764529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/only-one-who-could-make-everyone-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-81q-mr-QDJ0/TzQ2FFqesAI/AAAAAAAAD2Q/NjcAKag7G2M/s72-c/IMG_2025.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-6488829747867408092</id><published>2012-02-10T05:07:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T05:07:43.522+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's one of those nights again where I wanna throw a blanket over myself, hug my knees and cry</title><content type='html'>I hate these nights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-6488829747867408092?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6488829747867408092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/its-one-of-those-nights-again-where-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6488829747867408092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6488829747867408092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/its-one-of-those-nights-again-where-i.html' title='It&apos;s one of those nights again where I wanna throw a blanket over myself, hug my knees and cry'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-8313803598965832923</id><published>2012-02-09T03:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T03:49:20.709+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ranting space, Cliquey and Being mean</title><content type='html'>I generally do not talk too deeply or rant about everything under the world unless it's on a protected site. Protected, not as in https but rather, a locked up place where not everything I said can be seen by public eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And twitter is one of those places left. Actually, I think it's the only place left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It pains me to think that I'm actually thinking if I could write that or if I would hurt anyone by writing that before I even do so. I like expressing myself. I like to say things out. I'm not good enough to do it visually or musically (but I still like doing it) so I do it with words. Words that are&amp;nbsp;blatantly and painfully obvious. Yes, I blog. I tweet. I spam statuses updates (used to). I hate keeping it within myself but yet it just seems wrong doing it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like it's my fault for having opinions. For I'm being judged for saying what I think about someone, about some things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're reading this and as access to my twitter as well, good for you. You should know how open I am on there. I could just write how I don't care about what I think, about anyone. With names and all. And not feel guilty about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I know that that person will never see it. And what that person doesn't know, wouldn't harm him/her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, as more friends have access to my twitter, I start to stop. Stop writing such blatantly hurtful stuff. I didn't want to hurt them but yet, I've realized I'm starting to lose my only place to rant now. The only place where I can write names out and yet not be afraid of hurting their feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, starting from today. I'm back to twitter, ranting about everything that I want to. Judge me if you want, that's your call. I'm not going to lose my last place of being able to say anything I want. I'm refuse to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually you know what, I'm going to do the same on this blog too. I'm sorry If I'm going to hurt you, but I want my own haven back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I shall start of with a proper ranting entry then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is true that guys and girls are all wired differently. How girls see, think and act are very different from guys. And I think guys are tired of all these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm tired of guys saying girls always say that they want good guys, but yet they always friendzone the good ones and go for the bad ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know something, it's not our fault that good guys are all puppies. Okay, I'm only using this analogy because I think puppies are the cutest thing on earth. Like I'll let a puppy chew through my arm if he wants to. And yes, even cleaning up his poop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you see, that's a motherly kind of thing. Not a relationship-wise kind of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And girls, want to be protected. Not being the protective one. This has nothing to do with age or built, but rather their mental and maturity level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want a man, and if nice guys hide behind that excuse and never want to grow up, then I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to be honest, I used to get into relationships really easily. Only because I don't really choose guys. I mean I do, like from the handful I have, and with the one I chose, I get into a relationship with me. But I guess, over time, I've learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned that it is okay to not have to make a choice&amp;nbsp;immediately. It's not about choosing the best out of the bunch but the best in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Possibly, that's the reason I have been single for 3 months and will be on V day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to choose. And I will let my friends look at them and tell me what they think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if I offered to ask anyone out with my cliqueys, then it's obvious. Either I like you or I enjoy your company a lot. I trust them a lot to the fact that I allow them to actually decide for me if I'm uncertain about something. And as for cliqueys, it only refers to the few people. April (even though we're not close anymore, but I still trust her on a lot of things), Jeff, Tiffany (and well Victor, because the two of them do talk).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They will keep a lookout for me and share their opinions with me at the end of the day. And I really do think highly of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one question from V was if I friendzoned Jeff. I laughed like I never did. Jeff and I are passed friendzoning level. We are familyzoned. He's literally like my older brother and would even asked T to look after me in clubs. Though fact being, T usually gets drunk before I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm good at knowing where I stand. I like getting high. And by high, I mean one notch down from being a wasted drunk. So if I said I am serious in wanting to party, I would try my best to get to that level and maintain it throughout. It's no easy task kay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of that, please don't ask me to put yourself on the list of friends I'll ask out. Cause I don't have such a list to begin with. Alright?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh, to another person, please don't think too highly of yourself. To even&amp;nbsp;insinuate&amp;nbsp;that from me would have to mean that I would actually have to be bothered about you. Nope, you think too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, this is how I am being mean. For other people that always said how mean I am, I'm merely kidding with you. Teasing you. And whatever I'm doing now, yes, you could call me mean now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-8313803598965832923?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8313803598965832923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/ranting-space-cliquey-and-being-mean.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8313803598965832923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8313803598965832923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/ranting-space-cliquey-and-being-mean.html' title='Ranting space, Cliquey and Being mean'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-117475756834176340</id><published>2012-02-08T15:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T15:43:28.725+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like VS Love</title><content type='html'>I'm writing this with a fever and a flu so I'm not sure how logical I'll sound but I will try my best. And my eyes are so dry yet I feel it tearing up. So I hope I survive writing all the way to the end.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So let's start.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;#10 Things I Like About You&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cute eyes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Quirky cute smile&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;CUTE FACE LAH. EASIER.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You make me laugh&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The way you nuzzled at my neck&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You let me tease you extensively&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The way you could control my emotions&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How you light up my face just by talking with me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You joke with me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You give me hope&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;#10 Things I Love About You&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cute eyes that looks gently into mine&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Quirky cute smiles that&amp;nbsp;dissipates&amp;nbsp;my fear&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;CUTE FACE LAH. EASIER&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You make me smile when it's hard to&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The way you nuzzled at my neck&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You let me tease you extensively and I'm the only one who could do so&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The way you control my emotions, remove all my negativity and inject me with smiles and sunshine&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How you light up my face and remove my insecurities just by talking with me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You joke with me, in an attempt to make me laugh whenever I'm down&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You are my hope&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so yes, it's obvious that there is a difference between the two. And you're the one I'm thinking of while I'm typing this. :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-117475756834176340?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/117475756834176340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/like-vs-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/117475756834176340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/117475756834176340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/like-vs-love.html' title='Like VS Love'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-6596375891391699435</id><published>2012-02-08T05:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T05:03:09.078+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You bring me to the edge of my seat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-6596375891391699435?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6596375891391699435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/you-bring-me-to-edge-of-my-seat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6596375891391699435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6596375891391699435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/you-bring-me-to-edge-of-my-seat.html' title='You bring me to the edge of my seat'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-3201939485918352548</id><published>2012-02-08T01:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T01:01:07.218+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On page 39 of 366</title><content type='html'>Hear me out baby, give me a minute of your time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look into my eyes and smile for me. Take my hand and hold it tight. With fingers entwined, promise me you'll never let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me you love me and please, don't let that be a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrap me in my arms as you smell my hair. Let me feel your warmth from your chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my heart, I'm handing it over to you. Cradle it gently and please don't break it. You've told me that you'll give me yours and now, I'm taking it. I'm entrusting mine to you so please, let's hold on to it forever, shall we?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-3201939485918352548?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3201939485918352548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/on-page-39-of-366.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3201939485918352548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3201939485918352548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/on-page-39-of-366.html' title='On page 39 of 366'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4330474167778673571</id><published>2012-02-07T15:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T15:10:22.347+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because Valentine's Day is coming up soon, ask!</title><content type='html'>A: Who do you like and Why?&lt;br /&gt;A particular boy now. Cause he's cute. Man, that's a shallow answer isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B: Have you ever been in love? If yes, how many times, and how do you know it was love?&lt;br /&gt;Love. Yes, I think. A couple of times. Because I just know it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: Longest relationship you've ever been in, and why did it end?&lt;br /&gt;A year and eight months. He fucking cheated on me thrice and I don't think he's ever going to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D: Have you ever changed for someone, if yes, how?&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, haven't we all? This deserves an entry all by itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E: Pretend I'm you ex, what do you want to say to me?&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn't we continue to be friends? I mean, I don't mind. But blocking me once you found out I've changed my relationship status is a bit too much, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F: Have you ever been cheated on?&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G: Have you ever cheated?&lt;br /&gt;No...t really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H: Would you date someone who's know for cheating, if yes why?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. I wanna settle down, I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I: What's the most important part of a relationship?&lt;br /&gt;Love, truth, joy and faithfulness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J: Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings?&lt;br /&gt;I want to be in a serious relationship now. But if I can't find any, I can settle with flings too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K: When you are dating someone do you believe in going on "breaks"?&lt;br /&gt;Not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L: How many people have you ever hooked up with?&lt;br /&gt;Hooked up? NONE. And I'm proud to say so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: What's one thing you regret saying or not saying, doing or not doing in a previous relationship?&lt;br /&gt;Sorry love for not loving you enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N: What age do you think is appropriate for kids to start having sex?&lt;br /&gt;As long as it's legal. And having protection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O: Do you believe in the phrase, "Age is just a number?" Why or why not?&lt;br /&gt;Yep. Cause both guys I've dated are all younger than me? *coughs* I mean, it's the maturity level in compared to the age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: What about "Love at first sight"? Why or why not?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. Lust/Affection at first sight. Love? Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Turn on's?&lt;br /&gt;Cute smiles. Gentlemanly. Cute face. Tall. Warm hands. Yeah, the list can go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R: Turn off's?&lt;br /&gt;Touchy guys. Guys who have no idea what modesty is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S: What do you consider a deal breaker?&lt;br /&gt;Not speaking to each other&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T: How do you know it's time to end a relationship?&lt;br /&gt;You know when it's time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U: Are you currently in a relationship? If yes, for how long? If no, how long have you been single?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. 3 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V: Do you think people who have dated can stay friends?&lt;br /&gt;Yep. Actually I think they can be mega best friends. Cause they know absolutely everything about each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W: Do you think people should date their friends?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. Cause when the time comes for them to break up, then it'll be awkward for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;X: How many relationships have you had?&lt;br /&gt;2 serious ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y: Do you think love can last forever?&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Z: Do you believe love can conquer all things?&lt;br /&gt;Not on love alone, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 : Would you break up with someone your parents didn't approve of?&lt;br /&gt;Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2: If you could go back in time and give yourself one piece of advice about dating what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;Choose wisely babe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3: Do you think long distance relationships can work? Why or why not?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. Cause boys are horny creatures by birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4: What do you notice first about another person?&lt;br /&gt;Face, eyes, smile, gestures. Tons of stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5: Do gay, lesbians, bisexuals or transgender people bother you?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. Not at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4330474167778673571?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4330474167778673571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/because-valentines-day-is-coming-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4330474167778673571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4330474167778673571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/because-valentines-day-is-coming-up.html' title='Because Valentine&apos;s Day is coming up soon, ask!'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-5057528805808642496</id><published>2012-02-07T14:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T14:44:38.588+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So, goodbye my friend. Sucks to be you when you chose to lie to me.</title><content type='html'>I hate liars. End of story. Period. No discussions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I detest people backing out on dates, pulling tasteless jokes/pranks on me ... But all these pales in comparison with lying bastards. I even deem my cheating bastard ex a little better than lying jerks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He cheated on me, but at least he came clean. You lie to me, to hell with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I've heard that you wanted to get my attention, don't you? Well good for you. Now you did. Though I don't think this is the kind of attention you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've told you, I've friends. And friends talk. And what more, I have my girlfriends. And girlfriends gossip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I function in a very simple manner. For things that pisses me off, I would tell you in your face, directly. And for things I do not tolerate, I would tell you straightforwardly too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I do give chances. Three, to be exact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time you did something&amp;nbsp;intolerable, I would tell you in your face and expect you to understand that I do not like this and would hope that you wouldn't do it to me again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the second time, I would treat that either you're testing the waters to see if I'm really going to blow up or that you forget the fact that I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as for the third, fuck off. Away with you. How many times am I suppose to repeat myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This applies to everything and everyone, except for liars. And trust me when I said everything and everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgave my '94 ex for cheating on me thrice. Seriously, I don't want to talk too much about it but yes, thrice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But once is all it takes for lying people. You can choose to tell me half the story, as long as it's true. And that's all I'm asking for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it too difficult?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's simple as to how I know stuff. First, you trusted the wrong people to help you. Well, if you really had to choose someone, at least choose people I trust. Like my cliqueys. Not people whom are trying to claw back into my lives. Cause naturally, my defences are a lot higher with them, you'd realize?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you should be really careful when you speak to my cliqueys. Cause they're clever. And we talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, goodbye my friend. Sucks to be you the minute a lie slipped out of your mouth and into my ears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-5057528805808642496?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5057528805808642496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/so-goodbye-my-friend-sucks-to-be-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5057528805808642496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5057528805808642496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/so-goodbye-my-friend-sucks-to-be-you.html' title='So, goodbye my friend. Sucks to be you when you chose to lie to me.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-5117584184441139171</id><published>2012-02-07T01:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-07T01:55:55.444+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've quit twitter!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;For the records, this is why I've suddenly disappeared from the twitterworld.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-5117584184441139171?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5117584184441139171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/ive-quit-twitter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5117584184441139171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5117584184441139171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/ive-quit-twitter.html' title='I&apos;ve quit twitter!!'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4423681774231260292</id><published>2012-02-06T05:28:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T05:28:41.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wait for me love. I shall be back soon.</title><content type='html'>I was looking at the photos taken yesterday, (oh man, it was a crazy night, I haven't had so much to drink ever since the time I was at Grand Hollywood) and I only had one conclusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting so fat that it is showing in my face already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is weird because it is not showing up on my scales but yet very much so on my face, tummy and thighs. And what frustrates me is that it's showing up everywhere other than my boobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes body fats, if you have to be everywhere, then please includes boobs on your everywhere list. It's getting a bit annoying to see myself get fat without any good cause or whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my point. I've realized I'm getting fat because I haven't been working or had a boyfriend. Actually no, it depends on what kind of work I'm doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to get real fat while working at Cine because we do nothing but eat for 8 hours. I was happy but it was a terrible period of time. And boyfriends are the ones who would tell me, Hey babe, I think you're getting a little pudgy lately, no? And I would go into a frenzied mode and try everything to lose weight. If you know what I mean (9gag reference).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, since I have neither of the 2, I am practically doing nothing other than gaining weight. So much so that I feel like munching something right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time I was this crazy fat was the period of time where I ordered deliveries for every single meal in a period of 2 weeks. McDees, KFC, all types of pizzas, pastamania, unknown delivery places, you name it, I'll most probably have ate from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was that bad, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to be honest, I used to not have problems with people liking me. I mean, I'm not proud to say so (actually, I am, it makes me feel loved and pretty on the inside) but the numbers have been so rapidly declining ever since the end of last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like guys having their attention on me. I mean, there are two types. One which I family/friendzoned and the other, my QTee list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And right now, to be honest, there's only one on my QTee list right now and things doesn't seem well for us. Cause it has always been the fact that I'm the one contacting him and not the other way round, so I don't think things are going to work out between us. I mean, I'm always the one finding opportunities to talk over whatsapp and not the other way round, there's only a level so low that I'm willing to go.So, I'm considering the fact that I'm just going to hang on for 2 more weeks. And if things don't pick up, then it's over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I'll forgive him for not liking me either because I'm too damn fat right now. And boys don't dig fat girls. Fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I shall get a job within this month and lose weight. Not on the scale, but visually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On page 37 of 366,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait for me love. I shall be back soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4423681774231260292?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4423681774231260292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/wait-for-me-love-i-shall-be-back-soon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4423681774231260292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4423681774231260292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/wait-for-me-love-i-shall-be-back-soon.html' title='Wait for me love. I shall be back soon.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-94808162171574628</id><published>2012-02-05T21:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-05T21:57:25.766+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On page 36 of 366,</title><content type='html'>FUCK LOVE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're too much for me to handle. Still.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-94808162171574628?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/94808162171574628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/on-page-36-of-366.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/94808162171574628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/94808162171574628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/on-page-36-of-366.html' title='On page 36 of 366,'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-5792008653792619942</id><published>2012-02-04T22:19:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T22:32:03.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blitzed!!!</title><content type='html'>For those who had watched How I Met Your Mother S6, you would have known of an episode that talked about Blitz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for those who had no idea, Blitz refers to the person who left early and missed out on all the fun, which will occur once Blitz leaves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similarly, but not entirely the same, R used to be our "blitz", in the case where she misses outings so much where we stopped inviting her altogether. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately she had been trying to claw back in and of course, we are open to it. I might have ranted a little, but I will still party and stuff with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, we will be partying together later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today, the curse was lifted from her and was set upon any poor soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The curse does not begin with the act that she leaves early. It begins when anyone promised to go but back out at the very last minute. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did it once and that was all I ever dared to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boss is too scary. But I'm always late. So boss hasn't been exactly kind to me. But he's super funny. So I will claw and clutch to hang on with this clique. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, as I was saying. Someone's our new blitz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm a terribly nice friend. So I shall give him 3 more chances. If he backs out 3 more times, then I think it's a bit too much already. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would rather he say he don't know or refuse to answer me than to promise and suddenly tell me he has something on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm still cool with it. Cause I wanna bio cute guys. And nothing can stop me today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I miss the days when I get what I want just by posting a status. I have fallen a lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll try to have fun for one more month?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna but there's no one around me who wanna settle down so fuck this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to be honest, I kind of feel sorry for E. He got into a relationship, and because of whatever reason, they broke up after a day. And that very same day, the girl got into a relationship with another guy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if I'm trolled by the two of them, but the girl said E's name what. Can't be wrong right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But forget it. To quote E, I can take care of myself first then go 管別人&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So *shrugs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye people. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-5792008653792619942?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5792008653792619942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/blitzed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5792008653792619942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5792008653792619942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/blitzed.html' title='Blitzed!!!'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4135593656869260806</id><published>2012-02-04T13:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T13:01:03.261+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I am posting this while being disorientated. So I might take it down tomorrow when I scrutinize my photos with a clear head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;So whoever is seeing this now, lucky for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gG1Y7rkMWrU/Tyy6Ss1O19I/AAAAAAAAD1g/2L2uG0bmmQ8/s1600/IMG_1907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gG1Y7rkMWrU/Tyy6Ss1O19I/AAAAAAAAD1g/2L2uG0bmmQ8/s320/IMG_1907.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-muCl4uNPAJ4/Tyy6UBiHljI/AAAAAAAAD1o/2NraoH-r9iA/s1600/IMG_1909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-muCl4uNPAJ4/Tyy6UBiHljI/AAAAAAAAD1o/2NraoH-r9iA/s320/IMG_1909.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bivyyg3u9LM/Tyy6VhNkkhI/AAAAAAAAD1w/YfFs8PTuflM/s1600/IMG_1910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bivyyg3u9LM/Tyy6VhNkkhI/AAAAAAAAD1w/YfFs8PTuflM/s320/IMG_1910.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-whgDbG2WLfA/Tyy6XLLyBEI/AAAAAAAAD14/_mulNwpkX9w/s1600/IMG_1911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-whgDbG2WLfA/Tyy6XLLyBEI/AAAAAAAAD14/_mulNwpkX9w/s320/IMG_1911.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W7sVxfqQvpM/Tyy6YCKgRTI/AAAAAAAAD2A/lEDoYg3Lpi4/s1600/IMG_1913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W7sVxfqQvpM/Tyy6YCKgRTI/AAAAAAAAD2A/lEDoYg3Lpi4/s320/IMG_1913.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NC3_55JO86c/Tyy6Ze4E42I/AAAAAAAAD2I/el9nCZJ-nBk/s1600/IMG_1914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NC3_55JO86c/Tyy6Ze4E42I/AAAAAAAAD2I/el9nCZJ-nBk/s320/IMG_1914.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4135593656869260806?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4135593656869260806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-am-posting-this-while-being.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4135593656869260806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4135593656869260806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-am-posting-this-while-being.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gG1Y7rkMWrU/Tyy6Ss1O19I/AAAAAAAAD1g/2L2uG0bmmQ8/s72-c/IMG_1907.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4956373524864901057</id><published>2012-02-04T12:53:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T12:53:30.556+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On page 35 of 366,</title><content type='html'>I'm not going to think about relationships anymore. It's too much of a mental torture and I'm feeling too much like a crap to handle any of such stuff now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But give me a good ten hour rest. Maybe I'll be good enough to emo all over it again. LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4956373524864901057?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4956373524864901057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/on-page-35-of-366.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4956373524864901057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4956373524864901057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/on-page-35-of-366.html' title='On page 35 of 366,'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-1762372004841750227</id><published>2012-02-04T12:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T12:50:51.742+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is totally not my style of writing, but I'm too dead to care. CHEERIOS!!</title><content type='html'>I'm expanding my music library and I'm not saying if it's legal or not. It could be royalty free for all its worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm a little annoyed with SOPA. I know I didn't express my views, actually well, I did. But I did it on FB in one little status.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I feel totally crappy now. I can feel my brain shaking inside my skull, I have to squint my eyes just to read a text or type this entry. My neck is aching, shoulders hurting and to top it off, I'm having a terrible stiff back now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my head isn't working so I'm not sure if I'm being logical or understandable in the least. My head is thinking in languages that I couldn't even understand. Well, I don't do gibberish that well. My fingers aren't typing the right words I want it to type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All because of a tiny session of beer. I suck at beer. I don't do beer, unless I'm in a bad mood. Like in a self-destruction mode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna start this paragraph with another word that begins with an 'A' anymore. Oh my!! I really need to start reading again. My vocabulary is&amp;nbsp;ridiculously&amp;nbsp;limited now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I was saying. Beer. Was at Jet 1 (I think?) &amp;nbsp;and we had a tower. And while the girls were singing, I was playing with the guys. And they had this game where you had to try and knock the dices into a particular number. And I couldn't knock it into that particular number so I had to guess who is bluffing. I guessed Eyphar and he wasn't lying for once. So&amp;nbsp;Frederick&amp;nbsp;said he will give me another chance to see if I can catch another one who's lying. I looked at him and Li Chi then I picked up my glasses and say GAN BEI AH!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were like WOAH, SHUAI!! And I'm like, shuai your head. Both of you confirm got. So I'm not going to bother. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the 4 of us were also playing 5-10-15. I'm after Li Chi and he knew I couldn't drink beer, so I told him to shout either either 0 or 20. And right after he said okay, he shouted 10. And I dio. Game continued for awhile, and then it got stuck at Li Chi again. He said 5, I dio. I drank. Then I was staring at him while I drank and he said, okay okay. You confirm won't dio already. Then he shouted 15. I still dio. And he laughed out loud. Literally. Actually, all of us did. Yes, even me. And while laughing, I locked his head in my arms and twisted my fist against his temple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think he hates me a lot. I drank quite a lot just being his next player. And after I drank and put down my cup, I turned and saw LC shaking hands with E and I was like WTH?! YOU TWO PARTNERED AH?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two of them saw my reaction and laughed super loudly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I told LC if I still dio, first time I'll drink. Second&amp;nbsp;consecutive&amp;nbsp;time, I'll twist my fist against his temple. Third time and I'll twist against his temple with my owl ring. He was like HUH WHAT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I was just kidding. I'm quite a&amp;nbsp;sociable&amp;nbsp;person for a Capricorn. And I'm okay if it's in the name of fun, laughter and joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I just realized. I'm not going to read what I just wrote. I saw huge chucks of words with red&amp;nbsp;wiggly&amp;nbsp;lines underneath it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beer makes me feel completely like shit the next day. And as crappy as I feel now, I will still be going to Rebel tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if your eyes haven't bled by now, if you're still reading, then you know what, here's a virtual kiss of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MWAHHHHH!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-1762372004841750227?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1762372004841750227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/this-is-totally-not-my-style-of-writing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1762372004841750227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1762372004841750227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/this-is-totally-not-my-style-of-writing.html' title='This is totally not my style of writing, but I&apos;m too dead to care. CHEERIOS!!'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-222876600849191782</id><published>2012-02-03T09:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T09:28:36.737+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Te-Deng, De-Teng</title><content type='html'>That's the sound when you connect and disconnect an USB drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the exact same sound that my lappie is constantly making. I have a crazy mouse. I think it's because I'm treating it rather violently, but... AHEM!!! It's crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting really annoyed by it and it's barely a few months old. Like probably only 2 months maximum old?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm an optical mouse killer. I swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So annoyed that I feel like throwing it against a wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm rambling because I'm waiting for the photos to finish transferring cause I'm going to upload photos in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photos in FB/twitter are uploaded using iPhone cause I'm lazy to transfer, But I have this habit of checking my photos on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- SORRY, NEWSFLASH-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who had no idea, check my twitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't accept the fact. STILL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm going to whatsapp Tiff. Uploading pictures while doing so. BYE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not going to finish that sentence either. Too big a shock for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOAH!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-222876600849191782?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/222876600849191782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/te-deng-de-teng.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/222876600849191782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/222876600849191782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/te-deng-de-teng.html' title='Te-Deng, De-Teng'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-459071007425861382</id><published>2012-02-03T01:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T01:03:40.224+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm confused by my own actions</title><content type='html'>On page 33 of 366,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've realized it's going to be hard to continue this page thingy once I leave January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's such a cold evening and I'm finally up. So cold that I'm huddling my lappie on my tummy inside my blankie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I've said on twitter last night, I've quite a few thoughts in my head but sadly, I couldn't remember more than half of those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will if I go through what I've been doing yesterday huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So slept at 12ish (in the noon, yes) yesterday and got a call at 3pm from an interviewer yesterday. Woke up and felt back asleep around 4ish and even with 8 missed calls in the process, I refused to get out of bed till 8pm. Yes, refused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prepared with a new look to my eyes (I drew my corner inner eyelids, pictures later) and felt it looked horrible. Super fierce yo. But the girls yesterday commented that it just made my eyes looked larger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I might draw it that way again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So went down to kBox and my voice was horrible. And Chuck asked me a few questions that made me suspicious of him&amp;nbsp;immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I shan't say too much of my suspicion in this entry. I will like for things to be super concrete and in my face before I say it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after singing was Rebel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear I will not go to a club from 11ish to 4 again. Thank god Roderick sat at the statue with me ever since 2ish plus. Jo is a duracell bunny, I swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I gave $50 to Roderick to safekeeping, cause I knew I wanted drinks. Rebel for the previous few sessions aren't exactly up to my expectations. So I had 2 tequila shots and a whisky coke. Then I felt a slight rush coming so I told Roderick to not let me get any more drinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he did. Even with my kick gone, he refused to let me drink anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No way in hell am I ever going to ask a guy to do that again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I'm going to take 3 shots down in one go. And I think I can get high immediately. I think and I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, actually there weren't much to say what happened in the clubs. Cause nothing much happened. The songs are okay, for once, R&amp;amp;B yay!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But to be honest. I think it is quite obvious if someone is trying to fix me up with someone else. Especially if someone made me dance and look after someone. Tsk!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can finally comprehend the meaning where kids being possessive over their toys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a little kid knows that a toy is his, he might not be interested in that toy. But once another kid is interested in the same toy, all of a sudden, the little kid would start to like that toy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, the same thing is happening to me. And I'm honestly,  little bit overwhelmed by this thought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh man!!! Let's see how things go eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On page 33 of 366,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm confused by my own actions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-459071007425861382?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/459071007425861382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/on-page-33-of-366-ive-realized-its.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/459071007425861382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/459071007425861382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/on-page-33-of-366-ive-realized-its.html' title='I&apos;m confused by my own actions'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-273300831752772845</id><published>2012-02-01T03:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T03:43:18.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I've places to go to, things to see, stuff to do</title><content type='html'>But yet I'll throw it all away if you tell me to stay by your side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-273300831752772845?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/273300831752772845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/ive-places-to-go-to-things-to-see-stuff.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/273300831752772845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/273300831752772845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/ive-places-to-go-to-things-to-see-stuff.html' title='I&apos;ve places to go to, things to see, stuff to do'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-7467473958428842655</id><published>2012-02-01T02:48:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T03:00:29.167+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you all for being my friends. I love you all. From the bottom of my heart.  Less than 3 people, less than 3 :))</title><content type='html'>On page 32 of 366,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've once again reaffirmed that friends are one of the best things in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's okay that I don't have a man to spend my days with right now, cause I have the best and most awesome brothers, sisters, friends, people, etc around me. And I'm very glad for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to do a blog entry about all the hashtags thingy I normally do on twitter, cause I'm waiting for How I Met Your Mother to load and the loading time is atrocious. But it has episodes from Season 1 all the way to 7 and so I shan't complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And right when I've typed "On pa-", I've received a whatsapp message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, it was Ment who couldn't sleep because he thought he pissed me off on twitter. I told him I don't wanna talk to him anymore, and well, didn't. And he thought I was angry with him. Little did he know it was because I was busy trying to plan for tomorrow with Jo cause there were some issues on the timing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't like all these excessive planning. I would rather we just come up with a place and time and we get there and see how things go. But I guess, that's just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, he texted me at like 2 ish in the morning and asked if I was pissed off at him. Of course I said no. And he was relieved and said he finally could go to bed cause he would truly panic if he pissed off his closer friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so touched. Two different brothers told me I'm their closer friends in one day. I think I can die happy now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad Ment's together with Jia Ling. They are so going to have clever, adorable and nicest babies out there together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So will Chuck and Ser Fee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, back to my hashtags thingy cause I'm loading 2.5 episodes right now and I doubt it will be done anytime soon. There ain't much good trending ones today so I shall use the ones from yesterday and the day before that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm typing off what I think now, so it will be a little different from what I post, but generally, it should be around the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# 10 things that are attractive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Confidence - No matter if you're a guy or a girl, confidence sells. I mean, I know I'm not exactly the most confident people around, but still, at least I am one when I'm all dressed up and with my lashes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Cute smiles - Especially on boys. Or it could be a personal&amp;nbsp;preference&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Not smoking - Well, smoke kind of lingers on you. Even if you had a shower and cologne on and that smell... well it's not exactly one of the best scent on earth. And you'll die younger, age faster, have bad skin... and do I even need to continue. Plus, smoking's definitely not cool. Take it from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Musicians - Real musicians. Not the crap who knows a few chords and proclaims to be one. You can claim to be an aspiring musician but definitely not a musician. Even a lappie composer is hot. Yes, I'm having an image of one of my classmates right now. A few actually. I think we have quite a few hot ones in my class. Never realized I had such treasures in my life. I mean, I used to love them whenever they play, but never thought of them as hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Clean - I'm not the one who goes with the whole rugged look. I like my boys to be in shirts and smell nice. Yes, I secretly take a whiff of boys whenever they really close with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Lenses - I haven't seen a guy who looked really good in glasses yet. I mean, I don't mind if they wear it once in a while as an accessory, but if you wear&amp;nbsp;prescription&amp;nbsp;glasses, get some lenses too. Unless you're home, then it's your freedom. I force lenses into my own eyes even if I can't. (Which btw reminds me, I've got my first pair of GEO lenses. I'm not too sure how they look on me, but I'm excited to try it out tomorrow :D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Being a gentleman - Offering to pay, holding doors open, helping girls out. Well, it's always nice to have a boy like this. And for girls, well. Being a lady. Not a slut/cunt/whore. TYVM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Humour - Sense of humour. Do I need to emphasize on that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Friendliness - If you're grouchy (and well, unless you look drop dead hot), if not, I don't think it'll work on anyone. But if you're&amp;nbsp;absolutely&amp;nbsp;gorgeous, then well, ignore me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Being yourself - Nothing is more attractive than being who you are rather who you are not. Really. But just keep in rein the use of profanities in real life. To express is good, but not everything is a fucking CB right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# 10 confessions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I wanna love and be in love right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I hate being cold. Especially the moment I wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) I like sleeping on the arms of my boyf. Not too sure if they like waking up to a dead arm though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I can live without going out, but I can never live without my virtual life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) I tweet too much. Or FB too much. Or blog too much. I mean, at least I used to. But I still tweet a lot these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) I need friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) I'm a people pleaser. But if someone pisses me off, to hell with pleasing them. You cross me, I cut you off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) I become the weaker gender once I'm in a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) This year will be the first year I spent V day alone and I don't like the idea of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) I fall in love too easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the loading should be ready now. So...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On page 32 of 366,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you all for being my friends. I love you all. From the bottom of my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Less than 3 people, less than 3 :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-7467473958428842655?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7467473958428842655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/thank-you-all-for-being-my-friends-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/7467473958428842655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/7467473958428842655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/02/thank-you-all-for-being-my-friends-i.html' title='Thank you all for being my friends. I love you all. From the bottom of my heart.  Less than 3 people, less than 3 :))'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-1418684917123327590</id><published>2012-01-31T07:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T07:28:02.441+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I need to love someone. And be loved. I wanna feel the arms of a guy hugging me. The warmth and security of someone else assuring me.</title><content type='html'>On page 31 of 366,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am curious how I'm going to end this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's so many things in my head as of now that I have no idea how should I write this entry. Should it start of with happy things followed by words filled with angst and hate or should it be the other way round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah wells, maybe I'll start of by being random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vampires should be hot. No doubt. Hot as in Damon in Vampire Diaries hot and not Bill in True Blood ugh-how-is-that-even-hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. I apparently saw the poster for Warm Bodies on 9gag and I ain't joining the hate wagon yet. He seems kinda cute. Never like zombies cause their face are always so eaten up. And I like the idea of romance now. Vampires, romance, cute boys... I like living in my own fantasy world, don't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have stayed in for a week and it got me thinking. I actually don't mind staying in at all. I mean, I still get to talk to friends, watched How I Met Your Mother and did stuff. I really don't dislike this life. I mean, at least I don't have to waste money getting out in which not every single time end up fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In which I've gotta say, as a Capricorn, I don't take back ex-lovers. When you have decided to leave, then goodbye. The same thing applies to friends. Actually a little more on friends than lovers. I guess it's easier to leave a friend than a boyf hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy. I'm going to lose my friends after that one sentence, aren't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just kidding. I mean, I'm a very loyal friend eh. *laughs nervously*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm actually contemplating if I should write this down. I know I've been calling this particular girl R on my twitter, but in actual fact, most people should have known her as C on my facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to give it away, she used to be one of my very closer friends. She was the one who introduced me to clubbing. Yeah, the one who brought me over to the dark side. In which I'm kind of liking it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, I knew T and everyone know through her and I know, I shouldn't cut her out. Seeing she was the one who introduced the chance for me to know all these awesome people, but well, Capricorns don't take back ex-lovers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wanna leave me, I'll stop you if I truly want you in my life. And you know what, I really wanted you to. But if you managed to get out of my clawing hands, then don't expect me to welcome you back in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my parents didn't exactly like her either. I told her if she wanna smoke in my house, do it real carefully. Don't get smoke inside the apartment. Guess what, my mom would only be at home over the weekends and she could tell someone smoked in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she's still giving me shit till today about smoking. I had never been once caught smoking in my entire life. And I'm not a light smoker for girls. I can finish one entire pack in a night. Yet the moment she came over to stay, she made the entire house reeked of smoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I offered to let her stay over at my place whenever we had a night out. So she could save the cab fare by cabbing home with me. Normally, people would go off after they a night sleep and food, but no. She stayed on for a couple of more days until my Daddy had to talk to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy never talks to me. Never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I would actually expect people who shares cab with me to share the cab fare with me as well. She had the guts to ask me to go over to pick her up and head down to CQ together without paying a single cent. I spent $30+ alone without midnight charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, we were singing with T the other time and V paid with his card first. So naturally, we would pay him back in cash. That day, C/R asked me very&amp;nbsp;blatantly&amp;nbsp;around 4ish if I would pay for her cab fare home, if not, she would have a guy to come over and pick her up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she had the face to not pay V back. No, correction. She had the face to even think about not paying him back. I opened a bottle in Arena on NYE (fuckers, it's $1/200 more expensive than normal days, but we split it) and so asked her if she could transfer the NYE's alcohol money as well as the singing K money to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She first reply was, HUH?! It was you who paid for me? Not V meh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No girl, I wanted to cheat you of your&amp;nbsp;measly&amp;nbsp;twenty odd dollars. I wouldn't mind treating you but please, keep in rein that attitude okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh. Why in the world would V wanted to treat you? Are you T? No? Then why would you even think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I gave her time. I told her to transfer whenever she liked it, no pressure given and she did transfer in the end. So all well ends well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just one thing that I ultimately don't like about it. I mean, as guys, you people will (I'm assuming you're one right now, if not, I'm sorry), but as a friend and a girl, I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably that's why she's so used in having guys treating her. But as a girl, please don't put yourself down. You're more worthy than sleeping around so casually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just going to say this much. She used to be my friend and I'm going to see her on Saturday, so I will be nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously, I don't think it's entirely her fault either. I think put me in this scene for a period of time as long as her, I think I might end up the same way too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys in clubs are crazy. Singaporean dudes are still fine. It's the CN/TW people that's crazy. I'm not being racist, but it's true. My ex is a TW dude and I've used to club with CN people, so I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I can ever trust clubbing boys but the irony, most of my guy friends now are clubbing dudes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how am I suppose to trust any guys around me with my heart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to not understand my brain. I started clubbing around my breakup period and I was happy. The more I club, the more I don't wanna have a boyf. But things are starting to change now. It's starting to be the more I club, the more I want a boyf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The misery of&amp;nbsp;loneliness&amp;nbsp;is crawling back into me and I need to love someone. And be loved. I wanna feel the arms of a guy hugging me. The warmth and security of someone else assuring me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy. I honestly do not want to rush into these things. I do not want to get into a relationship for the sake of getting into one but if these goes on any longer, I'm afraid of fall into this abyss wagon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So show me some love please? And god, if there's any boys who kind of like me right now, let them confess so I can consider them please. I need some love, right now. At this moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On page 31 of 366,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this what they call desperation? I hate myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-1418684917123327590?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1418684917123327590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-need-to-love-someone-and-be-loved-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1418684917123327590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1418684917123327590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-need-to-love-someone-and-be-loved-i.html' title='I need to love someone. And be loved. I wanna feel the arms of a guy hugging me. The warmth and security of someone else assuring me.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-2845865210349494838</id><published>2012-01-29T05:56:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-29T05:57:41.115+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VVtOFh7u1PA/TyRtD9vj29I/AAAAAAAAD1Q/E8vfpzRJyJc/s1600/IMG_0413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VVtOFh7u1PA/TyRtD9vj29I/AAAAAAAAD1Q/E8vfpzRJyJc/s320/IMG_0413.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Photo taken while munching after one day in the sun. Yes, the effects set in this fast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VJoTbAZgoQw/TyRtF8fUSII/AAAAAAAAD1Y/mZ4sEzfGFjY/s1600/IMG_0416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VJoTbAZgoQw/TyRtF8fUSII/AAAAAAAAD1Y/mZ4sEzfGFjY/s320/IMG_0416.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And after I showered. Pain die me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-2845865210349494838?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2845865210349494838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/munching-after-one-day-in-sun-and-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/2845865210349494838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/2845865210349494838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/munching-after-one-day-in-sun-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VVtOFh7u1PA/TyRtD9vj29I/AAAAAAAAD1Q/E8vfpzRJyJc/s72-c/IMG_0413.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-5798627623823104870</id><published>2012-01-28T07:45:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T07:45:10.828+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vbD4eIAjgp0/TyMzvdaNvII/AAAAAAAAD0A/lDlMsrThuSk/s1600/IMG_1076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vbD4eIAjgp0/TyMzvdaNvII/AAAAAAAAD0A/lDlMsrThuSk/s320/IMG_1076.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;That was me when I was in a LAN shop in TW. Munching on some meat thingy.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hhWEj2I6JKs/TyMz7IqjhQI/AAAAAAAAD0Q/ZFiS2KTdRkc/s1600/IMG_1118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hhWEj2I6JKs/TyMz7IqjhQI/AAAAAAAAD0Q/ZFiS2KTdRkc/s320/IMG_1118.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Went to do my hair the day before I fled back to SG.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D6J9MswLqoQ/TyM0UM6fGZI/AAAAAAAAD0Y/e_sQdJPjd5s/s1600/IMG_1131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D6J9MswLqoQ/TyM0UM6fGZI/AAAAAAAAD0Y/e_sQdJPjd5s/s320/IMG_1131.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yeah. Ice blast. I used to smoke that until I broke up. I smoked because I had issues in my life. Then I realized the root of the problem was my ex, and once I split with him, I quit. And it was a complete quit. No cravings, no social smoking anymore, nor any single puff of anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fv9FDOYPnSg/TyM0WUIEfNI/AAAAAAAAD0g/6RDZqvQIEwc/s1600/IMG_1110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fv9FDOYPnSg/TyM0WUIEfNI/AAAAAAAAD0g/6RDZqvQIEwc/s320/IMG_1110.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The good old times when I had skinnier thighs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EvH5B_mmGuQ/TyM0zmZ9whI/AAAAAAAAD0o/P5I-5Q8eg-4/s1600/IMG_1141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EvH5B_mmGuQ/TyM0zmZ9whI/AAAAAAAAD0o/P5I-5Q8eg-4/s320/IMG_1141.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Crying alone in TW. It was a sad sight, I guess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bo-gjPwPo74/TyM01kZEmaI/AAAAAAAAD0w/IGIUHDjfaFg/s1600/IMG_1142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bo-gjPwPo74/TyM01kZEmaI/AAAAAAAAD0w/IGIUHDjfaFg/s320/IMG_1142.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It was mentally torturous, thinking bacl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-krIAJvw6eSQ/TyM03dtf-II/AAAAAAAAD04/3cRl0IAcdPY/s1600/IMG_1146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-krIAJvw6eSQ/TyM03dtf-II/AAAAAAAAD04/3cRl0IAcdPY/s320/IMG_1146.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I took this set of photos to remind myself that this is the last time I'm going to cry over him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h-KE_jiBSn4/TyM05iz7NEI/AAAAAAAAD1A/nlctiQK5f0U/s1600/IMG_1147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-h-KE_jiBSn4/TyM05iz7NEI/AAAAAAAAD1A/nlctiQK5f0U/s320/IMG_1147.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I cried long and hard. In his house. And then I booked the earliest flight home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sBP_VCboiIY/TyM1COSQBNI/AAAAAAAAD1I/lY7_JF4iRMw/s1600/IMG_1171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sBP_VCboiIY/TyM1COSQBNI/AAAAAAAAD1I/lY7_JF4iRMw/s320/IMG_1171.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me going to the airport in TW. To think I waste 2 good years of my life on him. My youth man. Tsk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-5798627623823104870?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5798627623823104870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/that-was-me-when-i-was-in-lan-shop-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5798627623823104870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5798627623823104870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/that-was-me-when-i-was-in-lan-shop-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vbD4eIAjgp0/TyMzvdaNvII/AAAAAAAAD0A/lDlMsrThuSk/s72-c/IMG_1076.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-5232275645887982319</id><published>2012-01-28T07:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T07:26:25.208+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Give me a guy who is worthy enough to settle down with him, TYVM</title><content type='html'>On page 28 of 366,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've realized how easy it is to love. The only problem is being&amp;nbsp;reciprocated&amp;nbsp;for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I slept the whole of today away. Well, I did wake up a few times in between to check out my phone, but that was about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I'm a painfully nice friend *epic eye roll* and a responsible one as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So despite the fact that I was functioning on caffeine alone for the entire night, I accompanied Roderick till 6ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All because I happen to wake up at 530pm when I'm supposed to meet Tiff, Victor and Jason at 6. Victor was super pissed and ignored me for a good 15 mins. I think I almost cried out loud. Boss can be really scary when he wants to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was standing at the train station in just a sweater pullover and my kiap kiap slippers, with makeup that's&amp;nbsp;sloppily&amp;nbsp;done and bare lashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a guy walked up to me and stood beside me. He was staring at me and I find him kind of&amp;nbsp;familiar, and what was awkward was that he didn't break off his eye contact with me. So finally, the mechanism in my brain started to work and finally it clicked and I realized it was Chuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we got on the train together and we made small talk. Quite unusual for us, seeing well, I kicked him in the nuts the first time we met. And to make our encounter even worse, yes, I met him in a hotel room. 4 of us, 2 guys and 2 girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to explain cause I wanna make it sound sleazy. But trust me, nothing can be more innocent than us. Even with alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To not make this seem really bad on me, he was the older brother of my secondary school BFF. I mean, I don't keep in contact with my then BFF anymore but yet ironically his brother instead, still, here we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was another abs training regime for me. I literally laughed till my sides ached from Yishun to Somerset. And he asked me out for a K session throughout the train ride as well which I couldn't refuse. I mean I tried. But he knew me too well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally, when I tell others that I'll try to make it or that I'll contact him again when I'm done,which would most probably mean that I'm not going but yet it's not so in their face. And then I'll go home and come up with an excuse and I'll be free from that particular meetup session.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess I've used this on Chuck one too many a time till the fact he knew this trick up my sleeve and refuse to let me go until I said yes and promised him that I'll go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I finally went there and well, as a guy who always call me a bitch, he's very much a dick himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He promised to stay out with Roderick the entire night and the two of them would go to work directly after that and so Roderick told him parents to lock up and not wait up for him. Well, it's a harmless promise, isn't it. But he made that promise even though he told his girlf that he would go talk to her afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he left at 4am and guess what, before he left, he told me to accompany Roderick till the time he has to leave for work,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, me and his friend whom I've just met. Barely a few hours ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, I'm quite a *cough* friendly *cough* person. Imagine how awkward we would be if I'm damn shy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And his friend couldn't go home and definitely not crash over at my house. I mean, from the incident with Christina a month back, I doubt I could ever bring anyone home again to stayover again. Well, unless it's my boyf. Then that's a totally different story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we sat at McDees and I asked his friend to take a nap. He looked pretty tired anyways and he had to work so I was being kind and offered to wake him up afterwards. Though he only took a half hour nap and a MC in the end, but that's a different story for a different day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, Chuck shouldn't have made the situation that he entrusted Roderick to me. He could have put it across like, just to hang out with his friend, no obligations nor&amp;nbsp;responsibilities. But he made me feel like a mother and I felt like I have to care for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm used to it. Seeing I've been in relationships after relationships with younger guys, I feel protective for people around me. Or maybe it's because Baby Kacia came into my life and my motherly instincts bloomed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think for a moment, I really treated him like a kid. Yes, he's in NS and everything, but it ain't my fault he looked young eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's a compliment actually. I really wanted to look young for my age but I'm turning 21 this year. Who am I kidding huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I'm only turning 21 in December. And at the end of December too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So got home, got breakkie for daddy and used lappie all the way till 8 plus. I couldn't sleep. Caffeine isn't really my best friend in times like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when the effects finally wear off, I knocked out and slept like I never did. 11 hours of sleep. That was amazing. Though the fact that I'm still awake now isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, ever since I've decided to settle down, I kind of have a phobia for doing so. I mean, I only had 2 serious boyfs and the first one was awesome but the 2nd one got me fearful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much so that even though I think I'm ready to go into a new relationship, I couldn't let go of my freedom. I can't help but to think of the things I had to give up if I go into a new relationship. In which the actual fact is that I don't have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my previous boyf is terribly overbearing. He took away every single detail in my life. It was so extreme that he could control my life even with him in Taiwan and me in Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't have friends, social life or anything. It's like he had to control every single aspect of my life. And he &amp;nbsp;had to. It was mentally torturing and I've been going through that for 2 years. Not to mention him cheating on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subconsciously, I'm afraid of guys not being able to commit and that's normal. I mean, I've seen so many guys these days to know that it's a fact. Most guys seem to have commitment issues even if they deny it. But in comparison, that is the least of my problems. I'm so afraid of having my life taken away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I finally broke free when I fled back to Singapore in November last year and got my life back. I don't wanna go back to that life again. I'm not sure if I can face it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know not all guys are like that, and I probably met a really horrible one, but still, I need a guy who could make me feel assured with him, around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah wells. So, I'm truly at a&amp;nbsp;dilemma now. Part of me wants to settle down with a boyf and live happily ever after but another part of me is truly afraid that the same 'ol shit is going to happen again and I'll lose all my freedom and friends again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On page 28 of 366,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess... FUCK LOVE instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-5232275645887982319?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5232275645887982319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/give-me-guy-who-is-worthy-enough-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5232275645887982319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5232275645887982319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/give-me-guy-who-is-worthy-enough-to.html' title='Give me a guy who is worthy enough to settle down with him, TYVM'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-6785596117762010859</id><published>2012-01-26T03:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T03:31:44.039+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't care if a guy has money or good looks or not, all I want is a guy to love me, pamper me and be good to me. That's all I'm asking for. It's not that hard isn't it?</title><content type='html'>Home with makeup still on and in a burberry shirt, seriously, on a Ladies Night. How is this right?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I really think that there is a curse with me wearing things given by my ex. Okay, this shirt was a couple shirt for the both of us, but I thought since I got over him, it shouldn't be a big deal anymore. It's just another shirt for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But apparently not. I secretly wonder if he sets a curse on the things he gives me as a gift. Whenever I wear or use any of them, something would come up and I would have to go off early. Every single time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank god I'm wearing my own necklace, bracelet and anklet now. Though I really miss my Tiffany and Dior. Ahem. Okay. I said I'm not going to be brand conscious and I shan't. Well, except for the brands I bought for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I think I'm such a&amp;nbsp;materialistic&amp;nbsp;bitch. But at least I pay for my own stuff. And if any guys send me home, I make sure I split the cab fare with them. I don't take advantage of friends. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not that expensive to maintain. Cause it depends. I tend to spend a lot on myself when I'm single and when I'm in a relationship, it depends on the financial status of my boyf. If he's rich, then I'll continue to indulge in myself. But if he's not, I can be thrifty too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dammit. No wonder I always get bullied in a relationship. I should think more of myself rather than for my boyf right? Or because my previous is a 1994 guy, that's why he isn't mature enough to think for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously. I don't think he&amp;nbsp;appreciates&amp;nbsp;me enough. Take for example, for Valentine's Day last year, I made chocolates for him. Fucking handmade chocolate please, and he didn't even care at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't cook or make anything for anyone. Well, to be honest, I'm kinda more of the one eating stuff cooked by boyfs. Oh, may I add. Gary made the best fried rice I ever had. Well, second best. Mommy's still make the best food around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm biased and I know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. I think I lost any potential boyfriends by now seeing who would want to see me rant about previous boyfs huh, so to anyone who's still reading... I'm gonna proclaim:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready to settle down now. And by settling down, I mean I'm ready to be in a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meaning I'm won't text guys or initiate conversations with them. Ain't such a big deal but guys and girls alike, some of them are desperate. And I know it. Talking with them would give them an idea that they might have a chance with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So from now on, I'll wait for people to talk to me and I'll reply. Cause I believe it's rude to ignore messages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless it's anyone in my clique. Cause our clique only consists of nice people. But there's one slight fault in it. Whichever guy/girl that anyone in our clique has a crush on and we would be very nice to that person, even if we are totally pissed by him/her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least that's a given isn't it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I really like my clique now. It's kind of ironic. I barely knew them like 2 months ago and now, I'm hanging out with them every single week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no idea why Tiff and I got so close but I guess, it's because she keep on inviting me and Christina and well, we always turn up. And when we decide to go healthy for a week, I kind of became the only one who turned up from my side and then I sort of became their clique.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Victor was a given because he's Tiffany boyf. And as for Jason, he's Tiffany's friend. And he's harmless. So everything's good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were actually talking about pulling Darren into our clique because he seems like a very nice guy. But then again, if we do so, Eric would start doing his little actions and spoil our friendship. So we're still debating if we should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we choose friends. But this can't be blamed right. He can spoil V's relationship with T when he's V's brother for ten years. TEN FREAKING YEARS. I don't understand and I don't wanna understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he can actually backstab V in front of me and Jason. Please. As I've said, I treasure this clique quite a lot and well, backstabbing ain't pretty to start off anyway. And when he realized that the backstab didn't work on Jason and I, he went to T and start doing his actions. In the same morning. Then when it didn't work again, he FB message me the very next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woah. Schedule super tight hor? You see, we're friends. If something goes wrong, we don't hide inside us until the matter blows up. We talk. And we solve problems. Like mature adults we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We don't play games. And we don't have time for games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't have time for guys who want to just want to play around with my heart either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, finally, I'm back on topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if a guy has money or good looks or not, all I want is a guy to love me, pamper me and be good to me. That's all I'm asking for. It's not that hard isn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-6785596117762010859?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6785596117762010859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-dont-care-if-guy-has-money-or-good.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6785596117762010859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6785596117762010859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-dont-care-if-guy-has-money-or-good.html' title='I don&apos;t care if a guy has money or good looks or not, all I want is a guy to love me, pamper me and be good to me. That&apos;s all I&apos;m asking for. It&apos;s not that hard isn&apos;t it?'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-3086527603662825140</id><published>2012-01-26T02:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T02:26:34.081+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On page 26 of 366,</title><content type='html'>I wonder if I want a boyfriend because I am falling in love or because I fear&amp;nbsp;loneliness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-3086527603662825140?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3086527603662825140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/on-page-26-of-366.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3086527603662825140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3086527603662825140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/on-page-26-of-366.html' title='On page 26 of 366,'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-482285454480080544</id><published>2012-01-23T09:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T09:38:53.191+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fat alive me. CNY cannot say that word ah. LOL.</title><content type='html'>I'm a lot less affected than I thought I will be. Actually I don't feel anything at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so disorientated in the morning with the mere thought of my ex that I'm literally confused. I mean, I don't have feelings for him anymore but I have no idea why his image just made its way into my mind and played around with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I haven't been in his FB ever since the week before we broke up and well, I'm ashamed of it but I just logged in and read his messages (I'm ssssoorrryyyyy!!!) and well, I'm still cool with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess, it's just me and my lack of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And ugh. I still can't get my lazy ass to edit my photos with my phone/ PS. So no uploading I guess. But I got quite a few&amp;nbsp;favourites&amp;nbsp;this time round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I really need to slim down. Like in a serious need. I mean, I can try to not look at my thighs or tummy, but once the fat gets onto my face, I freak out badly. And this is an emergency. Please fats, if you can ever hear me, please get out of my face, tummy and thighs and into my boobs. TYVM.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-482285454480080544?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/482285454480080544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/fat-alive-me-cny-cannot-say-that-word.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/482285454480080544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/482285454480080544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/fat-alive-me-cny-cannot-say-that-word.html' title='Fat alive me. CNY cannot say that word ah. LOL.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-8937372440147077877</id><published>2012-01-23T08:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T08:47:10.927+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just concentrate on breathing, everything will be okay.</title><content type='html'>On page 23 of 366, I got so confused that I didn't know what to think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But still, happy chinese new year!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-8937372440147077877?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8937372440147077877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/just-concentrate-on-breathing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8937372440147077877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8937372440147077877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/just-concentrate-on-breathing.html' title='Just concentrate on breathing, everything will be okay.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-3473256481095940271</id><published>2012-01-21T19:44:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T19:50:37.572+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On page 21 of 366</title><content type='html'>Time and time I've thought through it all&lt;br /&gt;How we loved and loved and how we fought each other&lt;br /&gt;Pushing one another to be somebody else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And time and time I've wrestled my thoughts&lt;br /&gt;Not certain if the end was right or wrong and whether&lt;br /&gt;We still should be together or with somebody else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our last memory she had water in her eyes&lt;br /&gt;She cried "Stay with me"&lt;br /&gt;Asked "How can this be love if you are leaving me"&lt;br /&gt;But darling love's to blame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't see you right now&amp;nbsp;'cause my heart just can't take it&lt;br /&gt;Can't be with you right now 'cause I know you're no longer mine&lt;br /&gt;I can't see you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me ache that we had to break&lt;br /&gt;That even though I knew your heart so well&lt;br /&gt;We're strangers in different places though we live a mile apart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend's gone my world has been torn&lt;br /&gt;We'll never share a name never be one&lt;br /&gt;But I will always remember the years we spent in love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still think of you  I pray that you are safe&lt;br /&gt;I'm still missing you  It has to be this way 'cause I'm not right for you&lt;br /&gt;And that's why love's to blame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't see you right now  'cause my heart just can't take it&lt;br /&gt;Can't be with you right now 'cause I know you're no longer mine&lt;br /&gt;I can't see you right now  'cause my heart just can't fake it&lt;br /&gt;Can't be with you right now 'cause I know you're no longer mine&lt;br /&gt;I can't see you, no I can't see you&lt;br /&gt;I just can't see you right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe time will heal your heart&lt;br /&gt;And maybe after time you'll understand&amp;nbsp;I said goodbye 'cause I love you&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't see you right now  'cause my heart just can't take it&lt;br /&gt;Can't be near you right now 'cause I know you're no longer mine&lt;br /&gt;And I can't see you right now  'cause my heart just can't fake it&lt;br /&gt;Can't be with you right now 'cause I know you're no longer mine&lt;br /&gt;And I can't see you, no I can't see you I just can't see you right now&lt;br /&gt;No I can't see you I just can't see you I just can't see you right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And love's to blame&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-3473256481095940271?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3473256481095940271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/on-page-21-of-366.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3473256481095940271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3473256481095940271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/on-page-21-of-366.html' title='On page 21 of 366'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-6731418439086359783</id><published>2012-01-21T15:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T15:55:48.076+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Despicable people, PUI!!!</title><content type='html'>I'm really hungry and angry and so that pretty much makes me a very pissed off person right now. And the more I think about it, the angrier I get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, I seriously don't understand why some people decides to sprout some&amp;nbsp;nonsensical comment out of nowhere, apologizes for it, gets forgiven and decides to text the person involved, telling her to apologize to us on his behalf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SERIOUSLY?!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What game are you trying to play? Huh? Some mind games that you think you're good at? Please. You're older, yes. But that doesn't make you any wiser. Just older, that's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please. A few things I really don't seem to understand or like about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do you keep on insisting that their relationship won't last. You predicted 1.5 years. They lasted longer than that. You predicted that they would break up. They patched. Hmmm. Actually, continue with your prediction. The more you think they're gonna split, the more they seem to end up together. Good for you? No. Good for the rest of us? Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, you call him brother for goodness sake. But why can't you stand him being happy huh? Ugh. Please be forever alone. And single.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you see, there's nothing wrong with telling us anything about your brother. The whole story or one comment, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you decide to say it out of nowhere, and stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think we couldn't see that you just want to leave us hanging there, with your&amp;nbsp;pretence&amp;nbsp;of not wanting to betray your brother. If you honestly do not want to betray him, you wouldn't even have said that comment about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not a slip of a tongue. If it is, then we should be around that topic. We weren't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have in no mind to be against any religion now, but to quote&amp;nbsp;Gandhi, I like Christ, just not His Christians. Very true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And alright. Let's just be&amp;nbsp;magnanimous&amp;nbsp;and treat that the one comment you've made is indeed a slip of your tongue. You've apologized. And we said that it's okay. No harm done. Let's pretend nothing happen and we move on. You agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then what. You texted your brother's girlf to tell her to apologize to us on your behalf. HEY DUDE, you already did. In our faces nonetheless. We said it's okay. Why huh why? Slip of your tongue again ah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine. Let me put it out for you. You can deny all you want, but it's obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know very well that the two of you are quite close with your brother's girlf these days and you wanted to use us to get in between them because you can't. You tried to break them up by talking with your brother and his girlf, but you failed. So you are trying to use us now. But too bad, your tactics are too lowly for us to even bother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how do we know you're using us. One huge giveaway is well, saying something out of nowhere and stopping. Too obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the one which made our point concrete would be your text to your brother's girlf. You can very well tell our friend in the cab face to face or text him to tell him about your apology to us or even FB message me directly (if you're really that guilty), but NOOOOOOOOOO, you have to sms your brother's girlf to come tell us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COME ON LAH. Who do you take us for? Idiots?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're actually not putting anyone else down other than yourself. Cause it shows us what kind of a person you are. If you can actually attempt to destroy your brother's relationship, then you could also try to break up all of our friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I would very much cut you out from our clique before you can even try to do anything funny to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've texted the guy in our cab last night as well as FB message your brother's girlf directly to tell them about this entire thing. And now it's out here, open on my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is how you do it. #swag&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-6731418439086359783?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6731418439086359783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/despicable-people-pui.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6731418439086359783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6731418439086359783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/despicable-people-pui.html' title='Despicable people, PUI!!!'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-3546983157070002376</id><published>2012-01-19T12:07:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T12:07:56.646+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In the future,</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul class="chat-wrap" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: 'helvetica neue', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: none; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_1" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Kids:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;Mom, Big time rush's having a concert.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_2" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_1" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Kids:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;Can we go?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_2" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_1" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Kids:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;Please?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_2" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_1" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Kids:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;We love you very much..&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_2" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_1" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Kids:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;We do really great in school. Please let us go.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_2" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_1" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Kids:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;Please, mom, have mercy on us&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_2" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_1" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Kids:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;MOMMY PLEASE DON'T YOU LOVE US WE'RE NOT EVEN ASKING FOR VIP TICKETS&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_2" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Ask your dad.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="even user_" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="odd user_1" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;&lt;span class="label" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;Kids:&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;DAD! CAN WE GO TO YOUR CONCERT?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-3546983157070002376?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3546983157070002376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/in-future.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3546983157070002376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3546983157070002376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/in-future.html' title='In the future,'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-8975556267900504482</id><published>2012-01-19T02:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T02:39:15.943+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I wanna vlog!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-8975556267900504482?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8975556267900504482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-wanna-vlog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8975556267900504482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8975556267900504482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-wanna-vlog.html' title='I wanna vlog!!!'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4716227934008901880</id><published>2012-01-19T02:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T02:39:03.805+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-elW4LUmJptQ/TxcNNJyAHII/AAAAAAAADxg/cCM_2Y0yPtw/s1600/IMG_1479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-elW4LUmJptQ/TxcNNJyAHII/AAAAAAAADxg/cCM_2Y0yPtw/s320/IMG_1479.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The 2nd day I've gotten my iPhone. The need for camwhore is there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xd4BuYl9xhY/TxcNThSCqII/AAAAAAAADxo/dQCCyoO5Pcg/s1600/IMG_1485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Xd4BuYl9xhY/TxcNThSCqII/AAAAAAAADxo/dQCCyoO5Pcg/s320/IMG_1485.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Debating if I want to have a fringe-cut. And I did!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ScNWUanHvvg/TxcNXsNYm2I/AAAAAAAADxw/q4jbaim-k2o/s1600/IMG_1490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ScNWUanHvvg/TxcNXsNYm2I/AAAAAAAADxw/q4jbaim-k2o/s320/IMG_1490.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I just thought it looks cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SujXR8xQqkw/TxcNphFIiZI/AAAAAAAADyA/1pvV5kGwOAg/s1600/IMG_1509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SujXR8xQqkw/TxcNphFIiZI/AAAAAAAADyA/1pvV5kGwOAg/s320/IMG_1509.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;WTFKKNBCCBLJLOLROFLMFAO. Or something like this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J_lYmfh14rQ/TxcOFJs0t5I/AAAAAAAADyI/f2puNcs2HuM/s1600/IMG_1518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-J_lYmfh14rQ/TxcOFJs0t5I/AAAAAAAADyI/f2puNcs2HuM/s320/IMG_1518.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Lousy cover. Super loose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ifhqCKprzqg/TxcOGroWR8I/AAAAAAAADyQ/83m9exexRrc/s1600/IMG_1521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ifhqCKprzqg/TxcOGroWR8I/AAAAAAAADyQ/83m9exexRrc/s320/IMG_1521.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I want geeky specs too. I know it's out of fashion but I still want it!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hGAXCYiiS7w/TxcOJJaGuhI/AAAAAAAADyY/S8_jCCRajEg/s1600/IMG_1525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hGAXCYiiS7w/TxcOJJaGuhI/AAAAAAAADyY/S8_jCCRajEg/s320/IMG_1525.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have&amp;nbsp;cleavage. OMG OMG OMG!! What awesome&amp;nbsp;sorcery&amp;nbsp;is this?!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pbY-Zhl_AKk/TxcOKqboNUI/AAAAAAAADyg/eIyMT0PmnFw/s1600/IMG_1552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pbY-Zhl_AKk/TxcOKqboNUI/AAAAAAAADyg/eIyMT0PmnFw/s320/IMG_1552.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Super messy hair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KNWqf_Tco4I/TxcOMe6YSQI/AAAAAAAADyo/kxNXAwAasgw/s1600/IMG_1553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KNWqf_Tco4I/TxcOMe6YSQI/AAAAAAAADyo/kxNXAwAasgw/s320/IMG_1553.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And non-messy hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RqMogItxmlE/TxcONZJwqDI/AAAAAAAADyw/3r3puNiKHLU/s1600/398694_252613434810760_100001863172903_624773_1122093930_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RqMogItxmlE/TxcONZJwqDI/AAAAAAAADyw/3r3puNiKHLU/s320/398694_252613434810760_100001863172903_624773_1122093930_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Unexpected meetups at the same table. YAY for mutual friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q9-evAoyGIg/TxcOliEz7wI/AAAAAAAADy4/Sqxz3ABRu2s/s1600/375359_10151132926145597_862285596_22237171_835817714_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q9-evAoyGIg/TxcOliEz7wI/AAAAAAAADy4/Sqxz3ABRu2s/s320/375359_10151132926145597_862285596_22237171_835817714_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;IDK who had the idea of putting a cup of sand on my lap. But it was hilarious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0KAEV_SpDnU/TxcOpJUfwgI/AAAAAAAADzA/EgdEaPMCN-I/s1600/381040_10151132919715597_862285596_22237136_449383513_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0KAEV_SpDnU/TxcOpJUfwgI/AAAAAAAADzA/EgdEaPMCN-I/s320/381040_10151132919715597_862285596_22237136_449383513_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Smelly photobomb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xzvqi4jv1k4/TxcOrMhSjUI/AAAAAAAADzI/dOTXbmf572Y/s1600/383005_10151046068850597_862285596_21846482_1608474615_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xzvqi4jv1k4/TxcOrMhSjUI/AAAAAAAADzI/dOTXbmf572Y/s320/383005_10151046068850597_862285596_21846482_1608474615_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is a chio picture. Period.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OljO5-0-c-o/TxcOtwN5REI/AAAAAAAADzQ/clzSgdPv98k/s1600/390049_10150430815117336_757272335_8963415_980064555_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OljO5-0-c-o/TxcOtwN5REI/AAAAAAAADzQ/clzSgdPv98k/s320/390049_10150430815117336_757272335_8963415_980064555_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Super sweaty from either the drinks or the dance floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dVp5qM7poYE/TxcOxfZkphI/AAAAAAAADzY/vVITk3AZ_yM/s1600/393514_10151017474280597_862285596_21756783_1620551395_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dVp5qM7poYE/TxcOxfZkphI/AAAAAAAADzY/vVITk3AZ_yM/s320/393514_10151017474280597_862285596_21756783_1620551395_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What's the point of me putting eyelashes when it can't be seen. HUH?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VyAhZl3-yNQ/TxcOzYXPK5I/AAAAAAAADzg/lgXAcE_XCTY/s1600/395640_10151093471375597_862285596_22043272_862406838_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VyAhZl3-yNQ/TxcOzYXPK5I/AAAAAAAADzg/lgXAcE_XCTY/s320/395640_10151093471375597_862285596_22043272_862406838_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh. Point being I don't have lashes IRL.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vcpro9MRa-0/TxcO4HHgsGI/AAAAAAAADzw/e3Ln92uwlLU/s1600/408309_10151132915165597_862285596_22237078_477931215_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Vcpro9MRa-0/TxcO4HHgsGI/AAAAAAAADzw/e3Ln92uwlLU/s320/408309_10151132915165597_862285596_22237078_477931215_n.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And I was scammed. Who put on full makeup (inclusive of falsies) when going to sentosa. WHO?!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4716227934008901880?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4716227934008901880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/2nd-day-ive-gotten-my-iphone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4716227934008901880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4716227934008901880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/2nd-day-ive-gotten-my-iphone.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-elW4LUmJptQ/TxcNNJyAHII/AAAAAAAADxg/cCM_2Y0yPtw/s72-c/IMG_1479.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4949522189241749921</id><published>2012-01-19T02:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T02:13:15.703+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On page 19 of 366, I've decided.</title><content type='html'>I'm writing this post while waiting for my photos to be done transferring from my phone to my computer. And chatting on FB message at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally going for my job interviews. But to be honest, I have totally no idea which offer am I interested in. Office hours is something I am greatly NOT&amp;nbsp;accustomed&amp;nbsp;to. After all this while of working afternoon shifts, clubbing nights and flying here and there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess it'll have to make do. After all, I would want to further my studies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In which field, damn, I really have no idea. I mean I'm still very much interested in the arts scene, but I don't think I'll further it in that field. I mean, if I really want to, I would have found a job according to my diploma and not get stuck in an admin job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, enough ranting. Photos are all done transferring. Time to do some random clicking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On page 19 of 366, I've decided. I think I would want a boyf afterall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4949522189241749921?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4949522189241749921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/on-page-19-of-366-ive-decided.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4949522189241749921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4949522189241749921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/on-page-19-of-366-ive-decided.html' title='On page 19 of 366, I&apos;ve decided.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-8070472535098590758</id><published>2012-01-17T04:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T04:13:20.608+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On the 17th day of New Year, my true love said to me.</title><content type='html'>WHAT TRUE LOVE. You siao ah? #yousiao&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-8070472535098590758?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8070472535098590758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/on-17th-day-of-new-year-my-true-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8070472535098590758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8070472535098590758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/on-17th-day-of-new-year-my-true-love.html' title='On the 17th day of New Year, my true love said to me.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-7281490452153733505</id><published>2012-01-14T07:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T07:23:19.209+08:00</updated><title type='text'>#Page14Of366,IStillKindaLikeYou</title><content type='html'>As written on the 14th page of 366, she gave up. Lost all hope in that one man she pined all her wishes upon. But it's alright. Cause she's gonna enjoy her life now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being single is only sad when no guys choose to have her. But it's not such a bad thing if it is her who chooses not to have any guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least it's her choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I still wish for you to be mine. XX #Page14Of366,IStillKindaLikeYou.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-7281490452153733505?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7281490452153733505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/page14of366istillkindalikeyou.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/7281490452153733505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/7281490452153733505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/page14of366istillkindalikeyou.html' title='#Page14Of366,IStillKindaLikeYou'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-7224489864872042160</id><published>2012-01-13T04:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T04:11:58.664+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm gonna do this page thing daily.</title><content type='html'>It's okay if no one understands me. For I do not understand myself either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm constantly yearning for something. Something that is unattainable. And even if it is, I'm not going to like it. But to human is to err, and I wanna have this error in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate being confused at night. I really do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On page 13 of 366, please be mine? XX&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-7224489864872042160?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7224489864872042160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-gonna-do-this-page-thing-daily.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/7224489864872042160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/7224489864872042160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-gonna-do-this-page-thing-daily.html' title='I&apos;m gonna do this page thing daily.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-454719617031826941</id><published>2012-01-13T04:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T04:10:02.911+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TbdkG3l78XU/Tw8-CWplCYI/AAAAAAAADxE/p_rRI7UxdQw/s1600/IMG_1507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TbdkG3l78XU/Tw8-CWplCYI/AAAAAAAADxE/p_rRI7UxdQw/s320/IMG_1507.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-454719617031826941?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/454719617031826941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/454719617031826941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/454719617031826941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TbdkG3l78XU/Tw8-CWplCYI/AAAAAAAADxE/p_rRI7UxdQw/s72-c/IMG_1507.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-1947601045782280815</id><published>2012-01-07T20:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T20:46:47.337+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck. I'm trembling.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-1947601045782280815?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1947601045782280815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/fuck-im-trembling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1947601045782280815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1947601045782280815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/fuck-im-trembling.html' title='Fuck. I&apos;m trembling.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-3420086893127838035</id><published>2012-01-07T20:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T20:44:57.457+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Afraid and alone... sucks</title><content type='html'>It's not easy to stay in for the past few nights. I hate being alone in my house at night. Confusion sets in and the&amp;nbsp;metaphorical&amp;nbsp;coldness get into my bones and freezes me inside out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so used to have mommy back on the weekends that when she's out tonight, I feel so lonely. So alone. So confused. To the point I'm afraid. I don't wanna be alone. I just want someone at home with me. It's even okay if that person doesn't talk to me, I just want someone to be&amp;nbsp;physically&amp;nbsp;here. I want to be able to feel someone near me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared. Confused. Frightened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want anyone to leave me. Please, no. Stay by my side. Please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-3420086893127838035?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3420086893127838035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/afraid-and-alone-sucks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3420086893127838035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3420086893127838035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/afraid-and-alone-sucks.html' title='Afraid and alone... sucks'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-1082374527701129005</id><published>2012-01-05T16:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T16:14:26.347+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confused</title><content type='html'>If only life are what they appear in the teevee. Whoever came up with the idea of acting is a genius, they knew that people all have a life that we want but yet we can't have. So they come up with fictional characters to live it out for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if the people who created the idea of tv shows just did it out of entertainment, then fml.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though it's not going to stop me from living out my fantasy world. I pretty much like it in there. And I'm starting to not have healthy thoughts again. Things like what's the point of staying alive is weaving into my head again. I'm not a&amp;nbsp;suicidal&amp;nbsp;type of person but still, I've gotta handle these thoughts soon, before it eats my soul away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before that, I'm going to swoon over James Maslow and Ian Somerhalder. I've realized the type of crushes I have are very typical. I can literally see the similarity between these two.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-1082374527701129005?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1082374527701129005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/confused.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1082374527701129005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1082374527701129005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/confused.html' title='Confused'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4657219968742350388</id><published>2012-01-03T22:33:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T22:33:28.352+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ask me about my job one more time, I'll rip your balls out. Eyeballs.</title><content type='html'>I like gossiping. And hate being lectured.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So unless I give permission, anyone who attempts to lecture me is going to be cursed while he/she sleeps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to be on the safe side, don't ask anything personal. The unlucky guy today... FUCK OFF PLEASE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4657219968742350388?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4657219968742350388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/ask-me-about-my-job-one-more-time-ill.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4657219968742350388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4657219968742350388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/ask-me-about-my-job-one-more-time-ill.html' title='Ask me about my job one more time, I&apos;ll rip your balls out. Eyeballs.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-3719658670591523107</id><published>2012-01-03T17:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T17:11:04.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not rocket science right?</title><content type='html'>No matter how much a girl likes a guy, the one who confesses in a relationship have to be a guy. It's not a sexist statement. If something has to be blame, I guess it's the X and Y&amp;nbsp;chromosomes that's at fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to the guys, you are always telling girls to say it outright to you people, saying that you aren't mind readers. You know what? Girls ain't too. You like someone, you tell her. SIMPLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If she doesn't like you, you suck it up and move on with your life. SIMPLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not rocket science is it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-3719658670591523107?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3719658670591523107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/not-rocket-science-right.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3719658670591523107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3719658670591523107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/not-rocket-science-right.html' title='Not rocket science right?'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4321612020321869246</id><published>2012-01-03T11:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T11:25:17.566+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Super long rant from guys to everything else</title><content type='html'>Woke up and had a few things going on in my head. I really do hate being delusional from sleep. I think it is pretty much a norm for me to get seriously confused after sleep and surprisingly clear-headed after an hour long shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, serious things later. Daily events first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I might start liking girls evenings out. I mean, it's fun with guys and all, all the laughing, joking, punching... I feel comfortable around guys, too comfortable I might say, to the point I feel like a guy most of the times when I'm with them (I think that's why nobody sees me as a girl anymore, DAMMIT!!!) but girls being girls, I would still like to talk about boys, relationship stuff, things like those once in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though in my defence, I think I might be able to&amp;nbsp;segregate&amp;nbsp;my topics according to people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a training you get when you're in a relationship and don't get to have much contact with your girlfriends for three plus odd almost four years straight. You understand loads of guys stuff. And when I mean loads, I mean it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's not start too far off. Maybe I shall just mention the latest two:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G - Final Fantasy (and when I mean FF, I mean serious business... it's his life), FPS (dead space, bioshock, FEAR... you catch the drift), NGE (he ships Shinji X Rei), American drama (FRIENDS, simpsons, 8 simple rules...), animation (he studies it) and I kind of miss the short period of time where I'm up on his bed reading his stash of comics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CCH - MMORPG (楓之谷, 龍之谷, 幻月之歌, 獸神傳, 玄武豪俠傳… yes, I used to game TW versions because he sucks in English), LoL (though the only thing I participate in is choosing the characters for him, he never allowed me to play using his account and I'm lazy to build up my own characters from scratch), Tekken/Capcom VS the jappy characters game (I can kick his ass with Lili before he bought the PS3 version and started training... then I started to dio owned by him, very badly), Shounen anime (you name it, I probably had spent hours watching it with him).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do think I'm a good girlf in terms of&amp;nbsp;accompanying&amp;nbsp;boyfs to do what they like to do. #SelfPraiseNotPaisehOne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, back to topic. Met up with Tiffany and Evelyn yesterday. Was a very last minute meetup. Was chatting with T on FB and she suddenly asked me to go out for coffee with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Sephora, LZY and Shaw House before going back to Wisma for Starbucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"中國女生很毛"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I'm gonna quote. Though, I kinda have to say that, well, my granddad was from China but I'M A SINGAPOREAN, so ... *coughs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a fun chat and then V suddenly appeared. I've realized that V is a guy whom nobody can make him laugh other than himself. He was like rolling his eyes and everything and out of nowhere, he decides that something is funny and started laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;是animation嗎？是動物嗎？He's damn mean, I swear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT HILARIOUS. I think I'm always training my abs whenever I get to meet with T's boyf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can still think of 101 things that made us laugh till I couldn't breathe yesterday but I shan't say it. Cause it's a little hard to put it across while I'm still delusional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH oh!! I recalled the thing about T 默默打了某男一槍 and me, not knowing that 也不小心打了同個男生一槍. I mean, I didn't know about it at all and was just replying honestly. And just yesterday morning, the other E also 打了那個男的一槍.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maximum suay-ness (for him and LOL-ness for us). I wonder how many 槍 can he withstand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to make things awkward, I'm talking about the 'no exception' guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ain't my fault for your actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh. Completely different guy now, but good luck in trying to get me out. You know the one wrong move you did was to tell T about your intentions. You really think girls don't talk among ourselves?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;約 me out my ass. You think it's so easy to 約 me? Like what I've said on twitter, if you ain't one of my brothers, there's almost virtually no way you can dig me out of my bed. And even if you are, you only got a 50% chance in succeeding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to counter your plan, I'm just going to tell you that I'm asking E to help me buy&amp;nbsp;cosmetics&amp;nbsp;back from TW and you don't have to pay me back, you just directly pass the money to E. And when the stuff gets back, you can pass all our stuff to T and I'll get it from her. Cause there's literally a higher chance that I'll meet up with her than you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as for the iPhone situation, I'm still tempted. But almost everyone I knew is telling me not to get it. Actually I think I just need a guy to accompany me and get it. That's all I need. But no guys offered to accompany me and so I shall just mope about in a corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is that I don't really believe in love at first sight. I mean lust yes but not love. I mean, I have my own share of crushes and eye candies but I never thought of those as love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I like them, for how they look or how they act but never for who they are because I barely knew them. I don't like guys using the word love so loosely. I don't mind if they say "I like you" but "love" is on a completely different level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand guys who look at a girl, maybe had a few outings together, and start to proclaim that they want to go after that girl. What did you see in her huh? Honestly, what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, same thing goes for "I miss you". I find it disturbing loser-ish for a guy whom I've barely seen for an hour throughout my entire life to tell me that he misses me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, good for you. I'm just going to roll my eyes so hard that I fear it might roll to the back of my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I'm not going to say that I don't understand them. I have my share of major crushes but at least I do something about it. I would try to talk to them with every single chance I have, and to make sure I know them for who they are and if I really love that person he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those chats are not flirty messages but rather just a honest casual chat. I believe that a person's true character would surface when he is talking most comfortably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of all this shit. Seriously, so much so that I gave up on all my crushes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If relationships are going to be such a&amp;nbsp;hassle, then I'll pass, thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to be the girl you imagine me to be, if you can't be bothered to understand me for who I am then shoo. I'm who I am and well yes, I'll compromise but I can never put up a front, acting to be the girl you think I am. It's too tiring and I'm not up for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, the sweetest period for a girl would be when the guy is going after her. And if you can't even be bothered to try and understand me during this period of time, it's gonna be worse if we ever get into a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please, guys. If you just wanna have fun, go get a hooker. Or a whore. If you're looking for a relationship, understand the girl you're crushing on for who she is and not who you make her out to be. And only decide that you want to go after her then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh. Though looks never last, for both genders, please, girls put on makeup, wear horrendous heels, get onto crazy diets just so they can look pretty. We make an effort. So please, do make an effort too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm judgemental no doubt, but 各花入各眼, and chubby people... aren't my type. Ever. I can be awesome friends with you but sorry, you'll never make it on my list. (Oh!! Sudden recollection. E was super mean yesterday, she was saying that there's this guy who is 被打腫的 and till now, still haven't 消… LOL 超壞的!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, with all those paragraphs, you can conclude that I'm very much irritated by guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, to actually make me give up on my crushes... that's no easy feat. So. fucking. annoyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But maybe it's a good thing. I mean, I'm seeing girls getting angry by their boyfriends while we're out having fun. E was just saying it last night that everyone was sad/angry and I was like "Eh? No what. I'm very happy that day" and then I had the conclusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHO NEEDS BOYFRIENDS HUH? It's just going to make you mad and you can't enjoy and have fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll just enjoy my status now and just leave things up to fate. Though god, if you really insist on me having a relationship, please let it be my crushes kay. Thank you very much :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now okay. The real serious issue I wanna talk about here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this status where I said I'm angry with my sis and brother-in-law and I'm not even kidding. I've heard more and more things from Mommy and well, I can't say anything much but it just doesn't feel right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, brother-in-law tries to take over daddy's company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When daddy refuses to, he tries to have his own company to replace daddy's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he realized he couldn't, he's asking for daddy's shares in the company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy has two types of contracts he's working on. One is project based and the other, daily based. Daddy promised brother-in-law that he'll give half of whatever he earns in the daily based to him and as for the project based, it'll belong to daddy's company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously? Really? Sister is earning 6K per month already and now you wanna take at least 10K per month from daddy? Fuck this shit please. No matter how I hear it, it just doesn't feel morally correct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they have this really nice way of putting things across. They were saying that they wanna buy a condo so all of us can live together. But they're going to rent both our HDB flats out and pay for the condo with the rental money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm seriously a little pissed at them for all these stuff to be honest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I'd realized mommy and daddy are really suay to have us as kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean well, with those I've said above and me. I don't stay too long in any jobs I've done and I don't spend time with them. I mean, I'd rather hang out with my own friends than them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well. I guess I'm going to find a decent job and stay in it for at least a year. Then maybe I'll go into NIE and study to be a teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh. When I said I have a balanced family on FB, I mean my real blood-related family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy's a&amp;nbsp;Sagittarius&lt;br /&gt;Mommy's a Scorpio&lt;br /&gt;Zeh's a Aries&lt;br /&gt;姐夫's a Virgo&lt;br /&gt;小佳穎's a Cancer&lt;br /&gt;I'm a Capricorn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't read too much into things please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4321612020321869246?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4321612020321869246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/super-long-rant-from-guys-to-everything.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4321612020321869246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4321612020321869246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/super-long-rant-from-guys-to-everything.html' title='Super long rant from guys to everything else'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-3243308524116579462</id><published>2012-01-01T17:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T17:37:11.756+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A brand new year, a brand new start - 2012</title><content type='html'>Had an awful ending for 2011 but after all the scenes that replayed in my head for last night, I think my start for 2012 is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the day started with me waking up at 7ish. It was horrible, I swear. Sometimes, I think I should not even consider meeting people in the day. It's either I don't get to sleep or I oversleep. Neither of which do I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a super heavy breakfast, bak chor mee plus tau suan. Daddy must have think he's feeding a sumo wrestler. And as a retard like I always am, I went for a nap. Woke up to FB messages and felt like puking. Note to self, never sleep on a full stomach. Horrible decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FB messaged till I got to head out and I wasn't late for once. Taken for granted the fact that I've cabbed. It was 3ish 4, no extra charges. If not, no way I'm going to cab. For the first time, I was on time. OMG!! I think I need an honorary mention for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to talk with C and S for awhile while waiting for MG for our jappy buffet. 13 slices of salmon sashimi yesterday yo!!! Craving&amp;nbsp;satisfied&amp;nbsp;much. And we were talking about snorting/eating one shot of wasabi each for our birthday dares. Of course, I would be crazy to go along with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he's one hilarious guy. I literally laughed my whole day through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After buffet was nuaing time till movie. I actually remembered the wrong timing. Thank god for him to remind me. And it had been such a long time since I've last watched a movie. I think my last movie was The Elites and I watched it with him too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAMMIT!!! Forever alone. I conclude that no one wants to jio me out for movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the movies, I had no idea why but I suddenly had a pang of serious&amp;nbsp;nausea. We were suspecting the sashimi but ah wells, it wasn't a pretty feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got hot water and hot water being hot water, well... was hot. So he sat down with me outside Cine, blowing at the cup of hot water for me. Until it was drinkable. MAJOR TOUCHED YO!!! *wipes tear at the corner of my eyes*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously, hot water really helps. Then went to McDees and nua-ed a bit more before heading down to CQ. If you think traffic jam is bad, wait till you're in the middle of a human jam. The stench and heat radiating from one another is horrendous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally reached the girls and after standing around and walking around for a bit, we went in and I finally find a use for my VISA. I haven't used it ever since I bought game credits. Yes, the only use for my Visa was to buy game credits. Or iPhone apps when I used to have it. Yes, I need a life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drank barely 5 cups yesterday. Not that I want to be drunk but slightly tipsy would be good though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And MG and I had this game of 5-10-15 that I had an epic win. We were bored in playing the normal ones and came out with this bo liao version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine that these are our fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;Me: _|_ _|_ &amp;nbsp;MG: =O =O ( me screams 2)&lt;br /&gt;*exchanges glances with MG, and I'm like wait for it, wait for it*&lt;br /&gt;Me and MG: _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_ (me screams 4)&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EPIC WIN!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was only today that I realized MG could shuffle. As in the LMFAO's MV kind of shuffle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, after counting down, T said that it was stuffy and wanted to head out. So we all did and boy, V got so drunk and couldn't pick up his phone yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have good impressions on guys who make their girlfs cry. BUT it is their relationship and I shan't judge. Both are good people and I shall leave it up to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we were sitting outside till about 2 before we go back in. But before we went back in, we were taking photographs with the chipmunk mascot and before we left, I was hugging the mascot and MG suddenly appeared and was shouting, 做什麽？吃豆腐啊？！&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T, J and I were literally LOLing there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after that,when we went in, I found we were only left with half a bottle. One bottle just&amp;nbsp;miraculously&amp;nbsp;disappeared. It's almost akin to magic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so we drank a little and there was this guy who wanted to play 世界大戰. I didn't want to cause I was afraid of having to drink something neat but it was a 4 VS 3 and somehow I managed to 幹掉 2 out of the 3. So OH YEAH!! We were safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MG and I played dices and the normal 5-10-15 for a bit, wriggled with the girls a lot more, and ended the day with me and MG settling the rest of the alcohol with both. I think playing 5-10-15 with a brother sucked. Sibling telepathy maybe, but no matter what he screams, 我肯定會中. Ended with dices and it was a little better for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left and we were trying desperately to get a cab. Plus my feet hurts like a bitch. I even had a blister on my left sole today. BOO!!! We walked to CQ's taxi stand and the queue was horrendous. Then MG and I walked to Swissotel and I swear my feet hates me. It was telling me how much it hurts but yet I still made it walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But MG was an awesome brother. He stays in Bukit Panjang and actually accompanied me back to Yishun first without accepting any amount of money I tried to 塞 to him. And oh, did I mention We actually waited for a cab till 7am. Seven freaking am. We left when it was still dark and waited till the sun came up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I've did but I'm sure I must have done something right to be able to deserve such awesome brothers in my life. Major happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you all. 2011 has been great with all of you. Let's make it better in 2012. WOOHOO!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/s: And oh. It was only yesterday that I've realized that 我好久沒被男人牽了. LOL worthy cause it's with my brother but still... guy okay. I'm content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/p/s: Why is it that girls have been kissing me in clubs these days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/p/p/s: I really like people patting my head *licks paws*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/p/p/p/s: Yesterday's network was so shitty some people only received half of the message and some quite a few times, so I shall just write it out here again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote class="tr_bq"&gt;They say that whoever you spent new year with will be the one that you will be spending with for the whole of next year. Even though I don't get to spend it with you, but you're still my awesome friend. So this text is gonna represent how I still wanna be in contact for the coming year. Leave all the unhappiness in 2011. A new year, a new start!! Everything's gonna be awesome yo!!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh. I was browsing through my sent messages and realized that only one guy didn't get to receive it out of everyone I sent. No fate uh, the both of us. Ah wells. But I did saw him for 2 seconds yesterday in Arena though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-3243308524116579462?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3243308524116579462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/brand-new-year-brand-new-start-2012.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3243308524116579462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3243308524116579462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2012/01/brand-new-year-brand-new-start-2012.html' title='A brand new year, a brand new start - 2012'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-1325164839542202134</id><published>2011-12-31T09:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T09:48:06.445+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye bye 2011</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I'm going to say this but 2011 indeed has went by too quickly. I could literally still remember the time where I was about to write 2011's resolutions. Of course, I didn't go about doing it and ended with an entry reviewing 2010's resolutions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the memories were that vivid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many things happened in this year. Mostly great, a few bad ones here and there. One major lousy boy but it'll past. Actually, it had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so on twitter, I've said I might talk about #MyCrushOf2011. Well, all I can say is that he's a gentleman. I've seen him sober, I've seen him drunk. Dead drunk, may I add, and he's a gentleman all right. And he's cute. So it's a major plus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there are so many 爛桃花 around me these days that I'm wondering if that 'gentleman' is one of them. My love luck hasn't been all that good since the beginning and to the point I'm getting a little fearful of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah wells. It's the new year. Let's put away all the negative energy and start this year... drunk again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh boy. I think I need a new way to start my new year. I've started 2011 with a very drunk Dee and awesome timbre duck pizza and am ending it with Arena.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I've been saying this every year, well, I know it might be something that guys used to pick girls up, but I think it's nice believing in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's this saying that goes like this. Whoever you spent the New Year with, you're going to spend it with that person for the rest of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a candidate in mind. But will he have me in his mind, that's a whole new story. But then again, it's a crush with no ending, so I shan't be crushed and from this day on, treat him as an awesome friend. If something happens, it happens. If it doesn't, then I shall be glad that we will be friends until our fate runs out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, my new year resolutions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get a job and work for at least a year at the same job&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Put aside $200 every month and NO TOUCHING!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't fall in love easily&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Clean my room&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Start taking care of my skin&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Maximum of shopping once per month and only are allowed on $200 on it&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Quit doing nails&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Diet and EXERCISE!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Leave $200 for parents every month&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;VISIT BABY KACIA AND ZEH AT LEAST TWICE EVERY MONTH!!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there you go, my new year's resolution.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-1325164839542202134?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1325164839542202134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/bye-bye-2011.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1325164839542202134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1325164839542202134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/bye-bye-2011.html' title='Bye bye 2011'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-5221683203232947316</id><published>2011-12-27T15:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T15:14:10.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'>THAT IS BRAND NEW INFORMATION</title><content type='html'>OMG. It's so hard to contain but I shall. It's the most hilarious thing I've heard since days. I mean, fact that it happened on Xmas eve, but still... ROFLMFAO worthy. Yes, that funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And loads of brand new information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Information which made my heart itch. Literally. I have a love/hate relationship with these type of emotions. Mostly love if I'm on a gossipy day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today's a gossipy day for me. If we're talking about boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of boys, I was telling how I saw 2 guys kissed lips on lips on Xmas eve and I had on idea how we ended up with one of the guys doing a dance with another guy friend of ours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must be because both of them claim that they had abs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I just realized the definition of abs for guys and mine are pretty different. And even if the abs feel hard doesn't&amp;nbsp;necessary&amp;nbsp;means that it looks nice. Sucks to be a guy too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in anyways, BEST convo today!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-5221683203232947316?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5221683203232947316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/that-is-brand-new-information.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5221683203232947316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/5221683203232947316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/that-is-brand-new-information.html' title='THAT IS BRAND NEW INFORMATION'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-6488947993549803574</id><published>2011-12-27T02:24:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T02:24:36.841+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's a happy birthday to me and a huge thank you to momma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For pushing me out of her 20 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah. So was so damn cute. She got over to zeh's place and sent a text over, telling me to look under winnie the pooh. (Got this feeling she asked zeh how to spell it though) and woah, another angbao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. And what if... we are all having our little lives in our mommy's tummy and we thought we're going to die as mommy pushes us out of her. And when we're born, we totally forgot about the lives we used to had in her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate being delusional from sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-6488947993549803574?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6488947993549803574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/its-happy-birthday-to-me-and-huge-thank.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6488947993549803574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6488947993549803574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/its-happy-birthday-to-me-and-huge-thank.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-2059471325902997684</id><published>2011-12-27T00:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T00:00:08.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'>20嵗快樂</title><content type='html'>照慣例　每年生日前　我都會寫封信給自己　提醒著自己要長大　之前是親手寫的　現在是用電腦打的　可是無論如何　都必須是要真心說出來的話&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;林依靜啊林依靜，&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;又長大了，每年好像只有這個時候，我才能好好的跟你說說話。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;這次，你是真的該長大了。之前還讓你有點小放肆是看在你年齡前面還是以１來開頭的。現在，你正是的邁入２０嵗了，該算是個大人了，請別再這麽小孩子氣了。事情不去看不去想，不代表就不會發生，不用去處理。&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;如果你知道事情一定會發生，在還來得及避免的話就避免，不可以的話就在發生的時候就要開始想應對的方法了。事情如果沒去解決的話，他永遠都不會消失，這點你我都要很清楚的知道。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;這一年來的風風雨雨，請你不要怨任何人。記住，自己選擇的路就要自己走完。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;今年，因爲一個爛男人，你翹了那麽多節課。翹得期末考都不能去考，你只能慶幸你之前考得還不錯，上課還算混得過去，不然你以爲你凴什麽來及格的啊？好，這個就不說你了，反正至少及格嘛，不過你竟然把我這兩年來的努力在最後一個學期裡完全的費掉！我怎麽說也是全校的前３％，也當過全係的第一名，因爲一個臭男人而放棄這些。你覺得值得嗎，你說！你真的不知道是前世修來什麽福，讓你之前的成績還能挺得住，不然沒個3.5, 我看你怎麽跟你老媽交待!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;可是算了，也沒關係。記住，自己的選擇，自己要負責。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;以後，不要看重任何不看重你的人事物。因爲以後的路是你在走的，他們才不會替你走下去。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;你忍受的，也許有人懂，也許沒人懂，那都沒關係。最重要的不是要忘了這一切，反而是牢牢的記住這一切。從舉動到感覺，一切都要記得。當時的痛的淚，不需要忘記，畢竟一切都是個過程而已。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;也千萬不要不相信愛情。每個人都能得到他們所屬於的幸福。你所經歷的不是幸福，如果堅持下去，你只會痛苦一生。想想，如果不是你這些朋友提你提出分手的話，也許我現在説不定是哭著寫這篇文章的說呢。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;有些東西別人會忘記，因爲他們沒體驗到。不過曾經在你身體裡的，一定要好好地記住他們。這也許是緣分，也許是命。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;愛，不要愛一個人的外表。樣子，看了十年二十年，早晚都會看慣看膩。重要的是個性。找一個腳踏實地，老老實實的，愛家愛你的，這就夠了。畢竟這是要陪你走完你下半輩子的。他不需要有錢，可是要會賺錢，省錢和花錢。他不需要是個天才，不過他需要肯努力。他不需要每天耍浪漫，不過他需要每天都愛著你。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;選男人，最重要就是要選個成熟的男人。畢竟成熟的男人能給你個依靠，能保護著你，能讓你成長。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我知道你喜歡能陪你玩的男生，能讓你笑得沒心沒肺的男生，不過他如果能這樣對你，他也同樣的能對別的女生如此。你如果真的是想找個安定的男生而不是玩玩而已的話，就別找個曖昧高手。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;最重要的是，你也別白痴到跟其他人搞曖昧。說你白痴你還真的很白痴。別人不跟你表白，你永遠都不知道他喜歡你，可是至少學會看別人的舉動吧。別老是想大家都是你的哥們，有時候男生不是這麽想的。所以，如果你不喜歡一個男生，就不要跟他玩得太瘋，免得人家也以爲你喜歡他，結果傷的是他的心，他的自尊和你們之間的友誼。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;惰性是個魔鬼。這個你自己也很清楚。我不想說能改就改吧，我這次要說的就是…　你這個懶惰蟲，一定要改！！！&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;對家裡的人要好一些。不是用你這個大腦想，要以行動來證明。也別說走就走，畢竟這個家還是有人會擔心你的。我知道你很喜歡搞神秘，玩失蹤，不過即使你要給自己一些獨處的時間也要說一聲，這樣不見一個月，兩個月，半年，你覺得家裡的人在沒收到你任何的訊息的時候，他們不會嚇死嗎？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;該說的都說了，該懂得我相信都懂。畢竟如果不懂得話，我怎麽寫得出來呢？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;做人實際一點，別老是把事情想得太簡單。找男人眼睛放亮一些。別在夜夜笙歌了，要的話就跟我夜夜寫歌。我記得第一封寫的信就是説要堅持自己的音樂夢，現在我不強迫你，如果你還想走這條路的話，我讓你放縱到２３嵗，如果還是不能以音樂來生活下來的話，那你就跟我乖乖的做份無聊不過能養活一個家的工作。可是如果你不想堅持也沒關係，那你就跟我現在好好的穩定的做份正當的工作了。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我們都很愛自己，尊嚴比什麽都重要。最後一句忠告，你要記得這個感覺。不要因爲又陷入另外一場戀愛又做回小女人。要懂得拿捏，愛他也要會愛自己。如果你不珍惜自己，才不會有男生肯來珍惜你的。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;無論你現在多想戀愛，在還沒真的確定之前，請你不要跟我糊裏糊塗又栽進去。要想清楚，不是好男人的都不准跟我考慮。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;好啦~ 20嵗生日快樂!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;林依靜林于靜&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-2059471325902997684?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2059471325902997684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/20.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/2059471325902997684'/><link rel='self' 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href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rV08qzgxfvA/Tvfekn0-B9I/AAAAAAAADn8/gSTO90XK67M/s72-c/IMAG0024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-6392159126326039670</id><published>2011-12-26T10:15:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T02:45:56.383+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas christmas. Note: Long long long entry</title><content type='html'>I think this is going to have a great end to this year. Sure, this hasn't been one of my best years but heck, I have had so many awesome friends that it'd make do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though to be honest, I would think that the best years of my life ever possible has been gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the days where I would only cry over scrapped knees and a pat from Mom would make the pain go away. The worst a friend can do is to go "I don't friend you anymore" and then start playing catching with you the very next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no broken hearts and&amp;nbsp;infatuations, problem with bills and well, unmentionable things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life used to be simple. And those are truly the best days of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I think I've received all the gifts I would be getting for this year, so it's a huge huge huge thank you to all of you. It's a major love to have all of you in my life. Gifts or no gifts. I can never think about not having any of you not in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT, to prove I'm not a self-centred snob (pfft, I am... I'm sorry *hangs head*), a huge happy birthday to Sheena, Hong Yong, Joel and MG. And why them only? Because they are the ones who have their birthdays on the same day, one day before and after mine. So, it's worth mentioning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, even though I might not talk much with all of you, I still remember kay &amp;lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, back to ME ME ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, remember the wishlist I've made a few entries back? I actually did received one of the stuff there. And no, it's not love. Though I'd hope it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yeah, I did receive cash this year. Though it's from daddy and zeh, a gift is a gift. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, let's see. For this year, I've got 4 bottles of perfume, 3 necklaces, 2 angbaos...and &amp;nbsp;SO WHERE'S MY ONE TRUE LOVE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HUH HUH HUH?!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I might sound desperate, but I do choose okay. I don't date any guy who just come up to me with a confession. And I don't think I'd be going back to date younger guys again. Unless, there're younger guys who're mature enough to actually make me not realize the fact that I'm dating a younger guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yes, birthday this year. Awesome 24th, I have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it started off with me waking up at 3am with only 3 hours of sleep. And I had no idea how did I manage to nua for 9 hours. And I finally went to showered at 12 odd, thinking I wouldn't shower for an hour but guess what surprised me when I got out of a shower eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though daddy do live with me, but whenever there's no one at home, I tend to wrap myself with a towel after shower and only get dressed in my room. And there was no one at home that day, at that time. So as usual, I wrapped myself in a towel and got out of the shower room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I heard someone called me. And I freaked out. I was screaming, WAIT WAIT WAIT, even though April was outside my house. I told her I'm indecently dressed and give me a minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got back into the bathroom, whipped off my towel and throw on clothes. Then April told me calmly that she could see what I was doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, in my defence, I had no idea the kitchen walls could actually reflect what I was doing in the bathroom. There's quite some distance and I thought I was at a dead angle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But ah wells, it was embarrassing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh, I do close the doors while showering. It was just that I was in a hurry to open the doors for April, so I did not bother to close the bathroom door while changing. Plus, I repeat, I thought I was in a dead angle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, I was shouting and asking her for the time while I was changing. I swear I had no idea that I bathed for an hour straight. I mean, I do that, but I didn't expect myself to do that on that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I opened the door for her and she walked into my room ever so naturally. I was standing beside her and she turned around, looking at me ever so innocently. I went a little boogle-eyed and told her I've gotta changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She laughed and walked out of the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she was jealous of me and my mommy. Fact that my mom seems to find her very lovable, and welcomes her so happily. I don't think I ever saw her this happy when I said that I'm going out to hang out with a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn't even mind what time I was going home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And April seemed to find it funny when Mommy gave me my birthday necklace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth to be told, I wasn't looking very forward for a necklace because I actually told Mommy that I don't want one, so I wasn't really sure why did she still get one for me. But a gift is a gift and I love all gifts. And especially the thought of someone actually bothered to get one for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I told her I'll wear it out now and asked Mommy to put it on for me. So mommy was saying, that she'll go put on her glasses and I said, then it's okay, I'll put it on myself. Then while I was trying to wear it and failing, she put on her glasses and helped me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April went awww at this sight. I feel loved too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we went for sushi buffet and we realized me and Ment like the things April don't. And I like being out with Ment. He's actually helping me train my abs every time I meet up with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April + me = deadly combo, April + Ment + me = suicide mission, April + Desmond + Ment + me = AIR, WHAT IS AIR?!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after sushi, it's singing time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After confirming that we won't be opening bottles in the night with Chia Ying, I was like, LET'S DRINK MAN. DRINK!!! I need to get myself as drunk as possible so I can club in the night. But I didn't expect the 4 of us to finish the bottle. Seeing April and I are not very good drinkers. Desmond is not a very good drinker but he likes to pia jiu, which I have no idea why in the world would he do that. And never drank with Ment before so had no idea about his tolerance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And huge loves to April for getting me sucha yummy cake. Pity I could only have a mouthful. Cheesecake isn't one of the things I can eat, especially after drinking. But the oreo crust is the ohm nom nom nom good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was funny when it comes to making wishes. I think they know me so well that all of them guessed that my first wish is to have Ian Somerhalder as my husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though boo to them. I'm not gonna waste my wish on something so unrealistic. I still am able to&amp;nbsp;differentiate&amp;nbsp;fantasy from reality kay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first wish was to find a good husband who loves me, am mature and faithful. Second was to have friends meeting up on a regular basis. And third is well, I can't say it out, can I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I had so much fun singing. Two crazy tipsy dudes and a few club songs and we were all jumping on the sofas. I'm not going to say too much about what Ment did that day but just the fact that he's a wonderful boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was like saying he wanna go club with me after the session and everything and just one sentence about him to think about his girlfriend and that she wouldn't like this if she knows it right. And just that one thought, he decided to went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have total respect for this type of guys man. No wonder he's my brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But went to CQ half gone but I think I manage to clear up by countdown. YAY for not counting down outside. I was so afraid that I'm gonna to. If I do, I think I'm just going to go home straight. I tend to get into crazy decisions whenever I'm drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Ment was super cute. He actually blacked out and forgot he actually called me. I was waiting for the rest in BK when he called and was telling me to be careful, not to get drunk and was even answering my questions like where is he. But yet, he couldn't recall himself calling me. I wonder how many people did he drunk dialled that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though to be honest, I can't really talk about what happened in Arena. I mean, I know what's going on but I don't exactly remember the details. All I know is I got completely wasted for 3 times throughout that night and went into momentarily crazy&amp;nbsp;theatrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I would be sane throughout most of the night if Dominic didn't pour that crazy amount of Chivas for me. Thankfully Evelyn helped me for the last bit. Though I do suck under pressure. I tend to gulp more if someone's expecting me to drink. Boy oh boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so drunk at one point of time that I actually asked Jowell to let me lean on him before I dou. And&amp;nbsp;miraculously, Christina appeared and asked me to accompany her to go smoke. That was one of the happiest things I've heard last night. I think I might have go into a dizzy crazy spell if I didn't get out in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I faintly remembered I got burned by Christina's&amp;nbsp;cigarette&amp;nbsp;twice that night. And I was being idiotic for both times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, that night went in a blur. That's all I guess I could say. Though I quite enjoy that. Cause I got so drunk in one night yet I did not puke. AND I got to sleep for most of the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quite need my sleep. I have been functioning with only 3 hours of sleep for the past week. Yes, even on Xmas eve. I was awake for 27 hours straight. I'm amazed. But things seem to be picking up now. I'm getting my sweet dreams back and am only awake for 3 hours yesterday. That 3 hours was for the Xmas dinner. I spent the rest of it sleeping. Yes. But I have to admit, sleeping with contacts in ain't the best thing in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eyes would refuse to focus and after it did, the lenses would refuse to be peeled out. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah wells. I should focus on chatting with Christina now. I think I like talking about boys. Tsk. Girls and their gossips. LOL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-6392159126326039670?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6392159126326039670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-christmas-note-long-long-long.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6392159126326039670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6392159126326039670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-christmas-note-long-long-long.html' title='Christmas christmas. Note: Long long long entry'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-182406819818235123</id><published>2011-12-24T05:34:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T07:45:05.969+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling for the wrong dude... again?</title><content type='html'>I always love too fast, too hard. And even though I could control the fact that I don't show this love out, but I cannot control myself not to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And many a times, I find myself falling for the wrong people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like it. Not at all. The feeling where you love yet knowing you shouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no rules in love. Only expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it''s time to have fun then. The fun where I didn't have the chance to enjoy. The fun where you don't love someone. Rather, you'd like everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, why am I not outside, clubbing eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-182406819818235123?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/182406819818235123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/falling-for-wrong-dude-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/182406819818235123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/182406819818235123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/falling-for-wrong-dude-again.html' title='Falling for the wrong dude... again?'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-3035338594123284750</id><published>2011-12-20T16:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T16:07:02.275+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Party dates</title><content type='html'>I just wanna remember the times where I'm out partying. Cause I know these days ain't gonna last and I want to make sure I remember them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November 25 - Butter Factory (First time meeting the TWese people)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November 30 - Billy Bombers, Rebel (Ladies Night)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 2 - Arena (Li Chi's birthday)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 7 - Arena (The day where I fucking lost my iPhone)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 9 - Arena (Crazy CN people @ VIP with Sam)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 14 - Attica, Rebel, Arena (Real crazy CN people @ Xiao Chen)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 16 - Arena (Pei Zhen's birthday)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PLANS: (edit and updated)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 21 - Shopping with Pril &amp;amp; Ment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 24 - Sushi + K session (Birthday celebration); Countdown party for Xmas @ Arena&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 25 - Xmas dinner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 27 - Sing K&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December 31 - Dinner with MG + Countdown with T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally realized the importance of blogging. The things that come up years later serve as wonderful memories. So wonderful, I regret not documenting everything I had ever experienced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's such a sad birthday year for me. Cause I can't be bothered to plan anything for this year. And by not bothering to plan, I don't think anyone would celebrate it for me. Humans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, except for April. Cause she planned the 24th thingy and I'm super moved by that. I'm waiting for F5 though. In which I have serious doubts cause we can't even meetup, much less having a celebration for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss what I had last year. Trips to Sentosa, Boat Quay, Clarke Quay, Bugis... oh man. I literally partied from the 25th till 1st of January. Every single day. I'm looking at the dates above and that's sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at least, I'm able to have my fun now. No commitments meaning... OH YEAH BABY :DD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-3035338594123284750?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3035338594123284750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/party-dates.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3035338594123284750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3035338594123284750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/party-dates.html' title='Party dates'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-2026350677829198423</id><published>2011-12-20T11:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T11:50:53.283+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All I want for Christmas is...</title><content type='html'>Not you!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless you're Ian Somerhalder, which makes you very near the top of my list. So here goes what I want for Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Note: What I want doesn't mean what I'm going to get. And I know fairly well that I can never get them. But here's the list of 10 thingsI would hope to want:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Love&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-urRTEQiaMBY/TvAA-5QKENI/AAAAAAAADnY/sNdmoBsOVvs/s1600/tumblr_lwhdkpkFM31qm7te1o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="256" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-urRTEQiaMBY/TvAA-5QKENI/AAAAAAAADnY/sNdmoBsOVvs/s320/tumblr_lwhdkpkFM31qm7te1o1_500.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't need a prince. But if you're willing to be my knight, love and protect me forever, I'll promise to love you forever too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ian Somerhalder&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7quvFyPHpJU/Tu_5tYZvTLI/AAAAAAAADmo/O0IMYvjzn68/s1600/tumblr_lwdddz7XXE1qlik5lo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7quvFyPHpJU/Tu_5tYZvTLI/AAAAAAAADmo/O0IMYvjzn68/s320/tumblr_lwdddz7XXE1qlik5lo1_500.jpg" width="232" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since true love doesn't exist, I'll take him. Yes, even if he's 33 years old. I'll take him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Paul Wesley&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H0bG4xhI_wk/Tu_5u8UOewI/AAAAAAAADmw/3jZQBPL-8W0/s1600/x2_320ec79.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H0bG4xhI_wk/Tu_5u8UOewI/AAAAAAAADmw/3jZQBPL-8W0/s320/x2_320ec79.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or if Ian is too far, I don't mind Paul either. Even if he's married yes. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Show Law&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MZMJDmv66Jg/Tu_-5rgFEQI/AAAAAAAADnQ/cIwb5_1dI4o/s1600/6a5de23djw1dmjyvt78vbj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MZMJDmv66Jg/Tu_-5rgFEQI/AAAAAAAADnQ/cIwb5_1dI4o/s320/6a5de23djw1dmjyvt78vbj.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always faithful. And he's super hot while dancing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Parties&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4a1OpQc69ss/Tu_6vabejdI/AAAAAAAADm4/edRAXKXHr6w/s1600/381512_10150991587340597_862285596_21671589_131201834_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4a1OpQc69ss/Tu_6vabejdI/AAAAAAAADm4/edRAXKXHr6w/s320/381512_10150991587340597_862285596_21671589_131201834_n.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun. I like hanging out and having fun with friends. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;iPhone&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a0tn7i6GBNU/Tu_9txZq7hI/AAAAAAAADnE/reIrXlCQzxs/s1600/iphone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a0tn7i6GBNU/Tu_9txZq7hI/AAAAAAAADnE/reIrXlCQzxs/s1600/iphone.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost mine. And I've been sold to iPhones since forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;iPad&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NPWFuoGB3wk/Tu_9tfTuSwI/AAAAAAAADnA/kQoCMJ8QTCw/s1600/ipad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NPWFuoGB3wk/Tu_9tfTuSwI/AAAAAAAADnA/kQoCMJ8QTCw/s1600/ipad.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iPad 3 is coming out in spring 2012. Oh yeah baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5RagvSipX0U/TvADn-VrvcI/AAAAAAAADns/Ni5X5VBVIuo/s1600/Picture+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5RagvSipX0U/TvADn-VrvcI/AAAAAAAADns/Ni5X5VBVIuo/s320/Picture+012.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To get clothes/shoes/accessories/stuff for myself. Cause I don't trust anyone else getting those for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rich dying old man&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hfynsha-0jE/TvADmifNDEI/AAAAAAAADno/5fYN73Ls0i4/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hfynsha-0jE/TvADmifNDEI/AAAAAAAADno/5fYN73Ls0i4/s1600/images.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since true love doesn't exist, I'll just settle for the second best.&amp;nbsp;Inheritance&amp;nbsp;and wills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Peace and quiet&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VVJIDAv3JEI/TvADlxkimtI/AAAAAAAADng/rMBOnnmAcU8/s1600/196255_peace-and-quiet-cushion-set.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="268" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VVJIDAv3JEI/TvADlxkimtI/AAAAAAAADng/rMBOnnmAcU8/s320/196255_peace-and-quiet-cushion-set.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;ol&gt;I just wanna sleep in peace. That's all.&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-2026350677829198423?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2026350677829198423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/all-i-want-for-christmas-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/2026350677829198423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/2026350677829198423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/all-i-want-for-christmas-is.html' title='All I want for Christmas is...'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-urRTEQiaMBY/TvAA-5QKENI/AAAAAAAADnY/sNdmoBsOVvs/s72-c/tumblr_lwhdkpkFM31qm7te1o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-344889793090348953</id><published>2011-12-20T03:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-20T03:52:39.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wish for this year</title><content type='html'>I only have one wish this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it is for the one I love to love me back. And come up to me, get down on one knee, and ask my hand in marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, maybe not marriage. But you catch my drift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if that ain't possible, I'm always glad to accept an iPhone 4S, iPad 2 and an Ian Somerhalder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-344889793090348953?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/344889793090348953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/wish-for-this-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/344889793090348953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/344889793090348953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/wish-for-this-year.html' title='Wish for this year'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-6444783293373533443</id><published>2011-12-07T01:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T01:43:44.733+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love. Not worth it. Nah. Not at all.</title><content type='html'>I'm at home yet I'm blogging on my phone. Just because I'm on DN and it's lagging the shit whenever I switch between pages. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I wanted to say is that I forgot how tiring love can be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost forgot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to party yo. And cut my nails. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be having short stumpy fingers now. FML&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-6444783293373533443?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6444783293373533443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/love-not-worth-it-nah-not-at-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6444783293373533443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6444783293373533443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/love-not-worth-it-nah-not-at-all.html' title='Love. Not worth it. Nah. Not at all.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-327836546612367598</id><published>2011-12-04T12:02:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T12:33:57.237+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Showers and baths... the best invention EVER.</title><content type='html'>I get very easily disorientated from sleep and normally a scalding hot shower proves to be the only solution. It's like I go into the shower nineteen and come out of it ninety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I still think of myself as nineteen. For now. I don't wanna think of myself with a big 2 as of now. I need a reason to act as a brat and I'm only left with the last couple of weeks to do so. So let me indulge in it yeah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yes, showers. It's amazing. It's like I can have this thought that I might like someone before showering and right after my scalding hot, note, scalding, shower, I would have rather us to stay as friends. Because I tend to think a lot during the lovely moments I spend cooking myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I woke up feeling&amp;nbsp;maligned&amp;nbsp;today, a little pissed, a little confused. It wasn't a pretty feeling, I could assure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry babe if you're angry at me. But just for the records. I didn't promise a BKT outing tonight. Yes, I've spoken about it but there weren't any promises. I was only trying to find people to go eat and we'll go if there are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I really am sorry if you're mad at me about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on. I've done the exact same things a certain Chien Hsiang has done. Before. To someone else. So I'm laughing at how immature I used to be. Glad that I'm able to be friends again with Gary though. But it's hard to say the same for me and him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am considering a stay in birthday night. Am suddenly tired of all the drama out there. Oh god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus I think I'm suffering from menopause. I only had a day of period. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck this shit. I'm going off to twitter now. Bye!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/s: I need confirmation for tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-327836546612367598?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/327836546612367598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/showers-and-baths-best-invention-ever.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/327836546612367598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/327836546612367598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/12/showers-and-baths-best-invention-ever.html' title='Showers and baths... the best invention EVER.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4266555392571249732</id><published>2011-11-20T10:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T11:05:32.758+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You've changed.</title><content type='html'>Well, yes. I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned to have fun. I learned to have friends. I learned to step out of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm no longer the epitome of a perfect girlfriend. Like a wife who stays in the house, awaiting for her husband to come home from all the fun and games (and girls) and still welcome him home. Literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of the crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too taxing, Mentally and emotionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You worry about me, going home with some guy, or getting drunk so some guy can take advantage of me. You worry, because you're possessive. And then you turn around, telling me that NO, I can't be worried of the same thing as you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what. I don't worry anymore. I hate the fact that those worries I have for you, they're true. I hate it. It hurts me. Deeply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From all these bouts of fun I've had over the month, I've realized I have more discipline than you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I play around, but I never sleep around. I just want to have fun. So do you. But you play and sleep around. You responded to their feelings. And I'm beyond hurt to realize this fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is easy to stay away. It is easy to not use your emotions in clubs. I know I can. And I also know how to shut it off. It's a choice. A decision that I know you've made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's sad. I'm sad. and you don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on the happier note, it's nice having people asking me out. Although it is not easy at all. I'm too lazy. Fact. Plus I didn't sleep for the whole of one and a half day WITH drinking. That's why I treasure accidental meetings a lot. Because that's the only way that I can meetup with people. And when the accidental meetings are from a person who specially came over to find me, I feel even more loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to be honest, everyone can see that I seriously need to be loved right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's also funny to have a guy being all mean towards me because he mistook me to be his friend's ex. Funny, cause I don't really like to date local guys. Not that I won't, just that I haven't met anyone being local AND nice. Or hot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4266555392571249732?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4266555392571249732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/youve-changed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4266555392571249732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4266555392571249732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/youve-changed.html' title='You&apos;ve changed.'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-8085997397733882156</id><published>2011-11-11T13:52:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T13:53:33.378+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Nothing went wrong. Except for the day I trusted you with my heart,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-8085997397733882156?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8085997397733882156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/nothing-went-wrong.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8085997397733882156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/8085997397733882156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/nothing-went-wrong.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-6964708126835490630</id><published>2011-11-11T08:32:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T08:11:14.390+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To be honest. The continued and shouldn't be read</title><content type='html'>But because of you, I think I might just be addicted to the night life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And honestly, who said girls can't choose even when they're drunk. Either that, or I'm not drunk enough. Oh OH!! Or no amount of alcohol can help. I never realized I could hide that much, that long from a guy. I literally squirmed and lowered my head so much his lips could only touch the top of my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But poor girlfriend of my girlfriend. That guy hit on her and she couldn't escape. And so, I was looking at that uglier guy with the guy that I was leaning in his arms and we both said WOAH. I mean, we shouldn't, but we did. But that's another story at the end of the day. She managed to escape though, by going home. It was sad. She was obviously playing dices with a better looking guy. Why wouldn't she choose to make out with that guy instead. I'm still confused as to her choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But isn't clubbing all about fawning? Correction, clubbing with people you don't know. I can club decently too. Like enjoying time with friends. I can and I have sessions like that too. I just feel like I need to clarify this just in case people think of me as a slut. I. am. not. It's just once in a blue moon thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yes, fawning. I love fawning. I love having guys trying to be in my favour. I think it is&amp;nbsp;absolutely&amp;nbsp;cute when guys ask me, SO who do I prefer. Of course I don't choose. Even if I obviously favour one over the other. Girls don't make choices in clubs. Never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I think it was obvious who I chose in the end. I mean, I hold hands very naturally in clubs because I have a terrible sight in the dark, and lean into anyone's arms or laps, both guys AND girls, because I get tired/drunk super easily, but I don't make out with any guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I had no desire in dating him or whatsoever. I don't even like him. The only reason I kissed him was that I was in the spur of the moment. thing AND he initiated it. I refused him for the first two hours. But in the third, I was drunk and tired enough but yes, he just basically just cheated on his girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is how things work. Girlfriends get very self-conscious in front of their boyfriends. They think too much for those jerks like almost all the guys I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, as I was saying, I think I might be addicted to the clubbing scene. Because I get to feel loved without having real feelings being thrown around, and therefore, no love of mine would be trampled on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a dumb dumb decision but I think I like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-6964708126835490630?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6964708126835490630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/to-be-honest-continued-and-shouldnt-be.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6964708126835490630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6964708126835490630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/to-be-honest-continued-and-shouldnt-be.html' title='To be honest. The continued and shouldn&apos;t be read'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-718572944316210036</id><published>2011-11-11T06:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T08:33:04.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To be honest...</title><content type='html'>I love attention from guys. I love being surrounded by them. For them to be all over me. BUT as much as I adore all these, I would willingly give up all these for one man. For the one guy in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as I can get your attention, why in the world would I even care about the attention from other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this had been my thought for all my life. I'd given up guys that people tell me that are better than you, I've refused to kiss/hug/touch/get drunk with other guys. I refused to put myself in such a position that would let any other guy take any advantage from me, just because I think of myself as yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So could you imagine the pain I feel when I realized that you don't think the same. That you don't feel the same. That you're mine. That you want multiple girls to be yours. When you use the word 'love' so loosely, when you sleep around so easily. When you do the same thing over and over again despite your promises and tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you know my pain? Why wouldn't you just let me go before I can come to know this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would you choose to push into the abyss of darkness again? Why would you force me down the road of melancholy again? Why would you choose to hurt me. Again and again. Why would you make me love you then step all over this love I have for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Undeniably, I know the feeling, the fun you can get when you fool around with other girls. I mean, remember when I said that I love the attention from guys, of course I know how fun that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I thought being in a relationship means you're willing to give up just that too. Alas, I thought wrong. But it's okay. I'll just weep for the rest of my life. It doesn't matter to you anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-718572944316210036?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/718572944316210036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/to-be-honest.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/718572944316210036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/718572944316210036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/to-be-honest.html' title='To be honest...'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4408612441331406479</id><published>2011-11-10T12:02:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T12:02:53.359+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Karma</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;What goes around truly comes around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's sad to see both sides of this story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, it's nice to have some fun with some girl's guy, like some harmless fun. A little dancing, maybe just a tiny bit of making out, just the&amp;nbsp;outrageous&amp;nbsp;things that I do when I'm&amp;nbsp;intoxicated. I don't intend to have anything to do with that guy, just some fun. I mean, I was drunk. If I'm doing that when I'm sober, it would have meant a whole new thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am embarrassed to even think about admitting it. I wanted to keep it hush hush because it's not exactly the most&amp;nbsp;glamorous&amp;nbsp;thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what pains me is that the girl is being so trusting towards her guy. That guy is crazy in clubs. And I mean, completely crazy. But yet, when I talked to the girl, she was like, her guy likes to have fun but he wouldn't do anything to hurt her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please girl, he tried to hit on me the first time we met. And we weren't even drunk (thus the 'he tried'), and the second time. Let's not even talk about it. AND I've only saw him twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't trust his 'love'. He uses it way too easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My guy can very much be similar to him. And it's saddening to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's easier to be on the side with all the fooling than the trusting side. It's a dumb thought but no one can deny the fact that people who have been hurt before would have gladly choose this side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts. Nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4408612441331406479?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4408612441331406479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/karma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4408612441331406479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4408612441331406479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/karma.html' title='Karma'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-6691142262477654596</id><published>2011-11-04T16:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T16:07:11.212+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gd-jZ0hD9ao/TrOc5DTU9HI/AAAAAAAADik/-_Fsl05PdMM/s1600/IMG_0987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gd-jZ0hD9ao/TrOc5DTU9HI/AAAAAAAADik/-_Fsl05PdMM/s320/IMG_0987.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Sawaroski!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I can never look into my sister's eyes again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-6691142262477654596?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6691142262477654596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-sawaroski-i-can-never-look-into-my.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6691142262477654596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6691142262477654596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-sawaroski-i-can-never-look-into-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gd-jZ0hD9ao/TrOc5DTU9HI/AAAAAAAADik/-_Fsl05PdMM/s72-c/IMG_0987.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-9086522669537395380</id><published>2011-11-04T15:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-04T15:58:48.717+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Force feeding myself NAO</title><content type='html'>To be honest, I'm tired of having mushy poop. Yes, that's the first line to this entry. Mushy poop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I've been here before, the excessive disorder of almost completely not eating for an entire day. I used to be much worse. I used to not eat carbo, literally. And it went on for months. I mean, shedding 10 odd kilos and officially ruining my metabolism rate isn't a joke, eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the feeling of saying goodbye to that ten odd kilos, priceless. For everything else, there's MasterCard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only in this case, you don't use it to get food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as I was saying, I was a little better. Not healthier, just better. I ate a meal in a day, and that meal can be anything. McDees, KFC, pizza... anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of which, I think I *AM* ruining my body by having periods of time where I do this (the not eating thing) and periods of time where I eat&amp;nbsp;absolutely&amp;nbsp;everything. I can, and I did ordered 2 personal pizzas and a baked rice and finished it all by myself. Yes, I did. And yes, the chicken ole thingy from pizza hut is awesome. So are capsicums. Onions are a close second on pizzas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, if I ate and can manage to keep my food down, I wouldn't mind eating more. But ever since the day where I downed my little plate of 水餃, where&amp;nbsp;after finishing it, I walked to the washing area, placed my plate in it, turned around, run to the toilet and puked. Yes, it was instant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was like ohm nom nom, tasty dumplings going in, and ugg ugg ugg, nasty dumplings (but still smell great) coming out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a terrible experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But something good is coming out of it. I mean, bye bye weight and bye bye 小肚腩.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The binging on food earlier and the always existent laziness within me (haven't exercise ever since NAPFA in my secondary school days) have taken a toil on my tummy and thighs. But this ordeal shed the extra flob around my waist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like a flat surface now. I'm content and super happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thighs still huge so I can't be bothered to talk about it. Thigh, learn from tummy. Shed the fat. Actually, no. Keep it for awhile. I'm really afraid of the cold. So learn from it when I come back to Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the other downside of it other than mushy poop, the continuous feeling of&amp;nbsp;nausea. It never leaves. It happens almost 24 hours a day, making it really difficult to sleep. To the fact that the tummy actually aches when I did the throwing up reflex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, don't worry. I don't think normal people would have to go through what I did within a short period of time. I used to be a dumb little girl who don't eat, because I would hate to be fat (hey, I was 14 years old. I was foolish) and my body seemed to have memory of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why when I stop eating for a day, the whole thing happens. And it is going down fast in a steep downward spiral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And before that, I shall go force feed myself. Ciaos!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-9086522669537395380?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/9086522669537395380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/force-feeding-myself-nao.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/9086522669537395380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/9086522669537395380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/11/force-feeding-myself-nao.html' title='Force feeding myself NAO'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-6692949744497027176</id><published>2011-10-29T13:30:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T13:31:11.648+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It is a confusing dream</title><content type='html'>So apparently I have a sister who's a Japanese, or at least stayed in Japan before. But then again, she's not really my sister. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was the good student kind of girl in school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that I had a super idiotic boyfriend who smokes and doesn't help me when I'm scared. That he can see a ghost on my bed, doesn't tell me nor help me. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-6692949744497027176?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6692949744497027176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/it-confusing-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6692949744497027176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/6692949744497027176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/it-confusing-dream.html' title='It is a confusing dream'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-2961108644495770413</id><published>2011-10-28T04:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T04:40:46.921+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Comfort food at night. Noms. Content in a bowl. &lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-xQRAG4K-yqc/TqnBfUdyJ4I/AAAAAAAADhU/xmT8OwGde14/s640/blogger-image--1613618088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-xQRAG4K-yqc/TqnBfUdyJ4I/AAAAAAAADhU/xmT8OwGde14/s640/blogger-image--1613618088.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-2961108644495770413?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/2961108644495770413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/comfort-food-at-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/2961108644495770413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/2961108644495770413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/comfort-food-at-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-xQRAG4K-yqc/TqnBfUdyJ4I/AAAAAAAADhU/xmT8OwGde14/s72-c/blogger-image--1613618088.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-1447344212741434063</id><published>2011-10-27T05:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T05:54:00.077+08:00</updated><title type='text'>就不能愛我嗎？</title><content type='html'>我們的心沒有交流了&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-1447344212741434063?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/1447344212741434063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/blog-post_27.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1447344212741434063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/1447344212741434063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/blog-post_27.html' title='就不能愛我嗎？'/><author><name>Joycelyn</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-7917055682266863129</id><published>2011-10-27T04:19:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T04:27:23.558+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgPI8uc1oig/Tqhs1TS0-RI/AAAAAAAAACA/Vu0MjIqOWtQ/s1600/IMG_0948.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgPI8uc1oig/Tqhs1TS0-RI/AAAAAAAAACA/Vu0MjIqOWtQ/s320/IMG_0948.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667899794013878546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;OMG!! My little cutie :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEDJoc_XL9w/Tqhs1D5Z-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/ViSsN7DkUOc/s1600/IMG_0951.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LEDJoc_XL9w/Tqhs1D5Z-eI/AAAAAAAAABw/ViSsN7DkUOc/s320/IMG_0951.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667899789880719842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Inception. It's a photo of a photo of Bby Kacia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LvHGYFHv6Is/Tqhs0_DPJaI/AAAAAAAAABk/ozZwiYqaD8I/s1600/IMG_0958.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LvHGYFHv6Is/Tqhs0_DPJaI/AAAAAAAAABk/ozZwiYqaD8I/s320/IMG_0958.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667899788579775906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;New shoes YAY!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-7917055682266863129?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7917055682266863129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/omg-my-little-cutie-d-inception.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/7917055682266863129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/7917055682266863129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/omg-my-little-cutie-d-inception.html' title=''/><author><name>Lynnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09746136160852780276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgPI8uc1oig/Tqhs1TS0-RI/AAAAAAAAACA/Vu0MjIqOWtQ/s72-c/IMG_0948.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-7460149065119084498</id><published>2011-10-27T04:13:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T04:14:55.112+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love me.</title><content type='html'>I wish for someone to care for me. To treat me like the No.1 in his life. I think this is too much to ask, a wish too hard to fulfil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at me baby, right into my eyes. Drown out the outside noises, see no one else but me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love me and hold me tight, let me lean my head on your chest. Let me be comforted by your warmth and the steady beating of thy heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to no one but me, look at no one else. Open your heart and let me in. Lock it up and throw away the keys. Let's build a little sanctuary for ourselves, and for ourselves only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me your all, and I'll give you mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-7460149065119084498?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7460149065119084498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/love-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/7460149065119084498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/7460149065119084498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/love-me.html' title='Love me.'/><author><name>Lynnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09746136160852780276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-3558654618045299401</id><published>2011-10-25T00:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T00:18:05.918+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The furthest distance</title><content type='html'>世界上最遙遠的距離不是生與死別，也不是什麽我站在你面前而你卻不知道我愛你&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are just bullshit. I mean, it may be true, but I don't feel it as the furthest distance at all. Cause if it's just life and death, you could still meet each other after the other one dies. And in the latter case, JUST FUCKING CONFESS. It's a 50-50 thing. Either you two will be together or you two will not be together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, the furthest distance would be, 當你站在我面前時，我卻不能再次相信你了&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're so close. You're just in front of me. But yet, we can never be together. No chance at all. Not now, not ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna reach out to you but my heart is too hurt to do so. If only we didn't meet at the wrong time, maybe we can be together forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-3558654618045299401?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3558654618045299401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/furthest-distance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3558654618045299401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3558654618045299401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/furthest-distance.html' title='The furthest distance'/><author><name>Lynnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09746136160852780276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4615362172425024133</id><published>2011-10-22T04:14:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T05:25:19.166+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heart. Please, enough with the love</title><content type='html'>I think I had enough with love. I mean, I would still like to fall in love, have a boyfriend and get married in the end, but I think I just had enough with this boyfriend of mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I think it's a slow death penalty. Being in a relationship I mean. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4615362172425024133?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4615362172425024133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/heart-please-enough-with-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4615362172425024133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4615362172425024133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/heart-please-enough-with-love.html' title='Heart. Please, enough with the love'/><author><name>Lynnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09746136160852780276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-9135627027093843806</id><published>2011-10-21T16:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T16:54:15.725+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a whole new beginning</title><content type='html'>I'm so glad I had blogs kept away and not deleted. Though, as a result, I had tons of blogs. Ten, twenty odd of them? No problem. I had blogs to keep my feelings, I had blogs that seen me through three of my boyrfriends, I had blogs where I write my fictional stuff down. I saw how depressed I used to be, how strong I became and how an end to a relationship blossomed into a new one and how sweet it was at the start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those were all memories. Some too painful to even write down then, but I'm glad I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's why I'm going to start a blog again. To record my memories down. Some sweet, some painful. But in the end, I know I'm going to smile at the happy ones and laugh at the ones which used to make me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And till then, let's all be strong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-9135627027093843806?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/9135627027093843806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/its-whole-new-beginning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/9135627027093843806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/9135627027093843806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/its-whole-new-beginning.html' title='It&apos;s a whole new beginning'/><author><name>Lynnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09746136160852780276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-3637131273884235113</id><published>2011-10-20T18:12:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T01:44:12.629+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Links</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Facebook&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.facebook.com/lynniiie"&gt;https://www.facebook.com/lynniiie&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Twitter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/#!/lynniii3"&gt;http://twitter.com/#!/lynniii3&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Youtube&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/imjoycelynnie"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/user/imjoycelynnie&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-3637131273884235113?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3637131273884235113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/links.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3637131273884235113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/3637131273884235113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/links.html' title='Links'/><author><name>Lynnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09746136160852780276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1587359208538332364.post-4230790099499243066</id><published>2011-10-20T17:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T01:22:06.376+08:00</updated><title type='text'>About Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k8noMTGMj8U/Txb-fuL7GaI/AAAAAAAADxY/guo__jvC5kI/s1600/IMG_1495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k8noMTGMj8U/Txb-fuL7GaI/AAAAAAAADxY/guo__jvC5kI/s320/IMG_1495.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm Joycelyn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and almost 21.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hates the process of travelling&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;but loves to see the world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Thinks too much&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;of depressing stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hyperactive imagination&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;loves to fantasize&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Have a huge infatuation on 羅志祥&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;especially when he dances and act crazily funny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Likes Ian Somerhalder&lt;br /&gt;And his delicious abs and dreamy eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't mind crushing on James Maslow&lt;br /&gt;With his perfect hair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loves vampires&lt;br /&gt;To the extent it's an obsession&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watches Youtube&lt;br /&gt;Namely for youtube comedians (shanedawson, nigahiga, kevjumba)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Single and not yet available,&lt;br /&gt;Until nice guys start appearing in my life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I just wanna be happy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;even if it means that I have to delude myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4hEAmmxZZso/TqFAb2kdgXI/AAAAAAAAAAc/cph7lGdU-Tk/s1600/IMG_0889.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665880653457883506" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4hEAmmxZZso/TqFAb2kdgXI/AAAAAAAAAAc/cph7lGdU-Tk/s320/IMG_0889.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 238px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Has a mad cute niece&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Name of Kacia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I call her 小佳穎&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and everyone loves her&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IZY5MDjG0AQ/TqFCaNiJomI/AAAAAAAAAAo/Y9von88jNBg/s1600/IMG_0479.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665882824285725282" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IZY5MDjG0AQ/TqFCaNiJomI/AAAAAAAAAAo/Y9von88jNBg/s320/IMG_0479.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 239px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And a little puppy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;though soon not to be so little anymore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Soros his name&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Husky is his breed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A cute little monster&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;in terms of poop and bitings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1587359208538332364-4230790099499243066?l=imjoycelyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4230790099499243066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/about-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4230790099499243066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1587359208538332364/posts/default/4230790099499243066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imjoycelyn.blogspot.com/2011/10/about-me.html' title='About Me'/><author><name>Lynnie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09746136160852780276</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k8noMTGMj8U/Txb-fuL7GaI/AAAAAAAADxY/guo__jvC5kI/s72-c/IMG_1495.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
