<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400</id><updated>2009-12-19T18:14:10.424+08:00</updated><title type='text'>davienne</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>523</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-9040470695249566267</id><published>2009-12-14T17:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T00:11:01.122+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project 52'/><title type='text'>Project 52: Week 7</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SyYBzwKkr6I/AAAAAAAAA-8/LxlBpVB9JXs/s400/R1065940bw.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, while Cheesie was in Singapore, we found a night together to bling our gadgets. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Blackberry has been suffering from a badly faded Gmask print, so I ended its misery by tearing it all off and sticking black crystals to the back of my phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was all new to me, the picking up of crystals, nudging them meticulously with a tweezer - thank goodness Wendy was there to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perfectionist me was obsessing about the alignment of my crystals, to the point Wendy huffed at me: "THEY ARE VERY STRAIGHT ALREADY!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, about four days after the blinging, I found an empty spot where a crystal fell off. It felt like a piece of my heart got cut away...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to go mourn for my crystal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-9040470695249566267?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/9040470695249566267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=9040470695249566267&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/9040470695249566267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/9040470695249566267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/12/project-52-week-7.html' title='Project 52: Week 7'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SyYBzwKkr6I/AAAAAAAAA-8/LxlBpVB9JXs/s72-c/R1065940bw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-236596970024545687</id><published>2009-12-12T15:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T15:45:37.079+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A Piece of Me'/><title type='text'>fickle</title><content type='html'>I have always been against indecisiveness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here I am, weighing my options on the Personal Principles scale, endlessly putting in and taking out bits just to get them to balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But they never seem to; the scales just wobble in tandem with my inability to make up my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have resorted to making all my decisions based on completely unrelated third-party factors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like how, in Genting while gambling, I didn't want to be solely responsible for the results of "Big" or "Small", so I made Elaine choose between "Apple" or "Orange", then placed my bets on what she picked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be easier that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be easier if I just pretended I made a choice, without me really making one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-236596970024545687?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/236596970024545687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=236596970024545687&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/236596970024545687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/236596970024545687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/12/fickle.html' title='fickle'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-4765863989453340686</id><published>2009-12-06T10:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T10:42:52.908+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>It's Christmas Once More</title><content type='html'>The other day we were just talking about Corporate Culture, and how in Nuffnang, we want the staff to make up our own culture, instead of having the management to dictate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe we all don't realise it already, but that has been the instance since Nuffnang hired its first staff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great deal of our culture has been moulded by our interactions, and that's also why we're so fiercely bonded to one another - just like one big family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We shamelessly termed ourselves as "Nuffies", organised company trips on our own and schemed ways to deter our bosses from choosing their favourite lunch venues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="297" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2594/4049792825_2e855f0537.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even for Christmas - never would we have thought that the first Nuffnang Christmas celebration would be a foundation upon which our future celebrations are built. And I suppose, these are how "traditions" come to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://fwie.fw.vt.edu/rhgiles/trevey/IMG/XmasTree1.gif" style="clear: left; float: left;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for two years now, the Malaysia and Singapore team would come together for a Christmas meal, where we each prepared a present anonymously for someone. During the meal, the bosses would have a little speech and then we'd go around the table saying our pieces. After that, everybody would open their gifts and guess the sender.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside whenever I think back on the jokes, laughter and wonderful company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year we're having our Christmas dinner in KL. It's a little giddy planning it because we've grown SO big that it's difficult to do something that's cosy yet able to accommodate everyone at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going up for the Mister Potato party first and I have to get a floppy hat to resemble Mister Potato! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe we'll make everybody wear their hats to the Christmas dinner and make it a tradition! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then 10 years down the road the clueless Nuffies will be like, "Can anybody tell us again, WHY we have to don hats for Christmas every year??!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-4765863989453340686?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/4765863989453340686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=4765863989453340686&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/4765863989453340686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/4765863989453340686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-christmas-once-more.html' title='It&apos;s Christmas Once More'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-5571216142999385956</id><published>2009-12-03T17:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T17:07:07.257+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family and Friends'/><title type='text'>elaine's twenty-third</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sxd9W9PR7aI/AAAAAAAAA-0/RpmhtBjnIk0/s1600-h/elaine%27s23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sxd9W9PR7aI/AAAAAAAAA-0/RpmhtBjnIk0/s640/elaine%27s23.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy Birthday &lt;a href="http://elaynne.blogspot.com/"&gt;Elaine&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bossming.com/"&gt;Ming&lt;/a&gt; bought back the most wonderful cake ever. It was chocolatey without being too sweet, had &lt;i&gt;just&lt;/i&gt; the right sponge-to-cream ratio, and had really nice cake base. I don't think I can ever do justice to the cake by my description, and never again will I find another cake to measure up :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Eileen's last day as well. She did the funniest thing ever - by giving a little wave and tottering out of the door on her last day! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had to make her come back in and give us a long, proper (by our standards) goodbye. Nobody leaves Nuffnang without a big hoo-hah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, to celebrate Raine and Elaine's birthday we went up to Genting and we all had a smashing good time. Pictures up soon, but don't count on it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-5571216142999385956?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/5571216142999385956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=5571216142999385956&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5571216142999385956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5571216142999385956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/12/elaines-twenty-third.html' title='elaine&apos;s twenty-third'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sxd9W9PR7aI/AAAAAAAAA-0/RpmhtBjnIk0/s72-c/elaine%27s23.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-3730326366991755863</id><published>2009-11-30T23:27:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T23:27:39.664+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Out and About'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project 52'/><title type='text'>Project 52: Week 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SxPjACgTvLI/AAAAAAAAA-s/EB3OwLnmVuI/s320/R1065882.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's this sign within the cable car which I took a photo of when we descended from Genting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody couldn't figure it out... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;From left:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. No eating&lt;br /&gt;2. No Smoking&lt;br /&gt;3. ???&lt;br /&gt;4. No drinking&lt;br /&gt;5. No littering&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's 3. ! Does anyone know?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-3730326366991755863?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/3730326366991755863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=3730326366991755863&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/3730326366991755863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/3730326366991755863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/11/project-52-week-6.html' title='Project 52: Week 6'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SxPjACgTvLI/AAAAAAAAA-s/EB3OwLnmVuI/s72-c/R1065882.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-8104018999651139145</id><published>2009-11-26T22:47:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T22:49:32.897+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scruffy'/><title type='text'>Scruffy's Reunion</title><content type='html'>One day I received a text from Scruffy's host family asking if they could come over to visit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought, why not? I've never met Neighbour X before, so it'd be a good time for me to properly thank them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suggested meeting up at Dolly's place, and that night, that's what we did! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I brought QY along with me and we chatted a bit, played a little of Wii (which I'm totally pathetic at) - good fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sw6LTTD1nII/AAAAAAAAA-E/KsI5Ha_wGD0/s400/R1065692.jpg" /&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;^ Group photo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;DOLLY'S FAMILY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sw6LMdX2SUI/AAAAAAAAA98/LadGMQhywjQ/s320/jewel.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;#1 Jewel, Dolly's dog and Scruffy's companion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sw6OxGCuubI/AAAAAAAAA-M/pFW5MEnz_cU/s320/R1065704.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;#2 Dolly! Extremely bubbly and sweet girl. Her hair's unbelievably l-o-n-g!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sw6Q2uB_WHI/AAAAAAAAA-U/PVMzQ0rZaJ8/s320/R1065709.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;#3 Caring Auntie Teresa who pampers Scruffy SO MUCH I'm ashamed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;NEIGHBOUR X'S FAMILY&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sw6S4mPpXFI/AAAAAAAAA-c/WUlH637skhs/s320/R1065701.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;#4 Sam! Son of Neighbour X. It would be his birthday at midnight and there he was, spending time with us. What a sweet boy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sw6UvAsh5uI/AAAAAAAAA-k/IEmG2PN045o/s320/R1065705.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;#5 Auntie Serena, wife of Neighbour X. She was re-telling the story of how her husband, Neighbour X, found Scruffy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So glad I made great friends throughout this ordeal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-8104018999651139145?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/8104018999651139145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=8104018999651139145&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/8104018999651139145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/8104018999651139145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/11/scruffys-reunion.html' title='Scruffy&apos;s Reunion'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sw6LTTD1nII/AAAAAAAAA-E/KsI5Ha_wGD0/s72-c/R1065692.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-3126857541383833220</id><published>2009-11-23T22:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T12:57:27.662+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Posts'/><title type='text'>snippets from my camera</title><content type='html'>I'm sharing some pictures I've leeched off my camera. Truth is I'm guilty of buying the camera and not putting it to good use. But I'll try, I'll try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SwqajXqqYAI/AAAAAAAAA9E/y1sZP-t_K-w/s320/R1065631.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;^ One of Estee's hermit crabs. She names them by their shells. The one shown here is "soccer ball". I questioned her what she'll do if the crabs switched shells. She thought about it for a minute or two, then giggled and said they wouldn't know the difference anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Swqa4fOw3cI/AAAAAAAAA9M/dMNzwU-5pZU/s320/R1065576.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;^ I took this picture of &lt;a href="http://www.ripplewerkz.com/"&gt;Lionel &lt;/a&gt;by accident when I was playing with my camera's settings. We were recce-ing Bukit Chandu museum, and this is one of the hallways where they showcase some really cool stuff like recorded telephone conversations played over a dummy retro phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SwqbN0jBIuI/AAAAAAAAA9U/SJ8LT6MzIsw/s320/R1065541.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;^ Was out with Wendy for supper some time back. I thought that it was really hilarious that there was this girl with hair the &lt;i&gt;exact&lt;/i&gt; shade and style of hers, sitting a couple of tables away from us. Her order that night was pretty messed up and I told her the waiters probably gave it to the wrong blonde girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SwqbrhRjqcI/AAAAAAAAA9c/eXazT_QB7DY/s320/R1065318.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;^ &lt;a href="http://www.dweam.com/"&gt;Valerie&lt;/a&gt;, my babe who bagged the crown for Miss Earth Singapore and is currently in Philippines for the finals. I'm super proud that she made it to the Top16 ! We were apart for one month and it's really agonizing not being able to ask her out as and when I want to. She's coming home in a few days' time but I'll be away we are JUST like star-crossed lovers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SwqaR87JDqI/AAAAAAAAA88/wF8_bKhFQV4/s320/R1065674.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;^&lt;a href="http://www.me-llamo-elise.blogspot.com/"&gt;Elise&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.elaynne.blogspot.com/"&gt;Elaine &lt;/a&gt;and Scruffy the week he came home safely after being lost. The girls were taking turns to squish him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SwqcCuqNAuI/AAAAAAAAA9k/Nci53e4shbU/s320/R1065287.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;^Robert and I at Val's swimsuit judging competition.We were armed fully with whistles, flags and cheered our throats hoarse. This crazy ang moh does crazy-angmoh things like venturing to India alone and calls it his idea of "fun". I told him I didn't find the thrilll of being potentially kidnapped in a foreign country "fun".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-3126857541383833220?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/3126857541383833220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=3126857541383833220&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/3126857541383833220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/3126857541383833220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/11/snippets-of-my-camera.html' title='snippets from my camera'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SwqajXqqYAI/AAAAAAAAA9E/y1sZP-t_K-w/s72-c/R1065631.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-5013532465767821183</id><published>2009-11-21T23:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:35:56.899+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Out and About'/><title type='text'>One night in Desaru</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SwgMUF-d49I/AAAAAAAAA80/T5QYWmGawd4/s1600/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDA2MjMtMjAwOTExMjEtMjMxNS5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-740351"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406584891999380434" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SwgMUF-d49I/AAAAAAAAA80/T5QYWmGawd4/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDA2MjMtMjAwOTExMjEtMjMxNS5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-740351" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It's 11.30pm and we're in Desaru. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm nestled snugly into the sofa blogging from my Blackberry while my roomie, Sheylara's goal is to stay away from it because of the allergies she's getting from the musky furniture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This trip was a really last minute one because The Goonfather decided that he wanted to skip an activity he was forced to attend and apparently the only way out was to "skip town". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we are, spending our weekend in the most relaxed fashion ever - our day was spent getting sand on our feet by the beach, playing the pirated version of Monopoly (the only one the resort provides), having scrubs and massages and a visit to the fruit farm.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all sounds really boring and dull, but it was the best we could do really, with the weather being uncooperative. I suppose I take quite a bit of joy in this mucking around; I'm just not warmed up to the fact that we have plenty of opportunities to do this back in Singapore but we never do. I wonder why. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, we saw a sign that said: "Mini Zoo" today and went to check it out after the rain got in the way of our poolside activities (suntanning for me, book-reading for QY and fooling around for the boys). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was more tickled when I found that the "Mini Zoo" was really just a "Chicken Coop", just like how the "Live Band" at the resort is actually a more dignified way of terming the "solo singer with a mike and keyboard". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have pictures to show because absent-minded me left my camera at home charging (I wonder HOW many times I must commit the same mistake over) and I can't be bothered to whip out my berry at every photo-worthy moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow we are waking up early to leave. And its back to the doldrums of Monday again, apart from my two freshly-broken nails and a thicker waistline (from tonight's dinner of BBQ buffet).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-5013532465767821183?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/5013532465767821183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=5013532465767821183&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5013532465767821183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5013532465767821183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/11/one-night-in-desaru.html' title='One night in Desaru'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SwgMUF-d49I/AAAAAAAAA80/T5QYWmGawd4/s72-c/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDA2MjMtMjAwOTExMjEtMjMxNS5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-740351' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-9137268406631371871</id><published>2009-11-19T00:23:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:36:16.075+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me Time'/><title type='text'>I think I have a gastric problem</title><content type='html'>I just came home from the doctor's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd been having this persistent pain at the tip of my stomach for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had this problem for quite some time now, but usually it comes and goes. I never really got around to seeing a doctor for this ailment because typically the pain wakes me up in the middle of the night and I'm so tired that I just want to sleep it away rather than head straight to the doctor's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually I do sleep it off, so I didn't see a need to get a proper diagnosis because I thought it'd be odd to get one without my illness occurring in real-time. Like, what am I going to tell the doctor? "Doc, I had this pain here but it's not here anymore...?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when my usually nocturnal pain pangs surfaced for a whole couple of days, plus a huge nudge from QY ("what, you don't know what you're suffering from?! Go see a doctor or else you'd never know!"), I stepped foot into the clinic after about 2 years of being doctor-free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about doctors is, they make me feel embarrassed because I answer truthfully but somehow I don't feel like I helped much after my answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think if I shut up it'd let them have a better diagnosis of what I'm suffering from :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Case in point #1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Doctor:&lt;/span&gt; (presses tummy) Is this painful?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Doctor:&lt;/span&gt; Here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Doctor:&lt;/span&gt; What about here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; Doc, it's a constant pain. Wherever you press as long as its near my stomach it hurts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Case in point #2:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Doctor:&lt;/span&gt; What are the colour of your stools?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; Er...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Doctor:&lt;/span&gt; Black?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; I don't know, I don't look at my stools&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Doctor:&lt;/span&gt; What....!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(The last time I visited the same clinic, my doctor asked me what was the colour of my phlegm. To which I answered, "I don't know, because I don't know how to spit." I wasn't being funny. I really don't know.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Case in point #3:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Doctor: &lt;/span&gt;It's probably gastric. Try this medicine out first. If it still hurts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me:&lt;/span&gt; You'll refund my money?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Doctor:&lt;/span&gt; ...I'll have to re-diagnose you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well let's hope I get well soon so I don't have to return for a re-diagnosis!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-9137268406631371871?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/9137268406631371871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=9137268406631371871&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/9137268406631371871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/9137268406631371871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-think-i-have-gastric-problem.html' title='I think I have a gastric problem'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-5376085532071126284</id><published>2009-11-14T12:30:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:36:24.959+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reflective'/><title type='text'>500 days of Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.dbcpr.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/50days-of-summer-posters_opt-11.jpg" style="display: block; height: 307px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 500px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;SPOILER ALERT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I caught this show last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the movie, I grunted: "This movie sucks" and promptly flipped over to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucked because it was so bloody real. It had such a strong resemblance to my truths that it was painful to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, the little bit at the end where Tom meets new girl - where they tried to make it more politically correct and closer to a "happy ending" didn't help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Tom: Consistency. I need to know you won’t wake up tomorrow and feel a different way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that I AM Tom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had my way, my life would be made up of formulas. Formulas with constants. Easily calculated with ANY sort of inputs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get how meeting someone new and "seeing how things go" is an idea of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, a novelty at the start when everyone's playing the cat-and-mouse game. But after a while the game gets depressing, manipulative and just plain... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;selfish&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't believe I've fallen for this many times over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, where are my Toms out there?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-5376085532071126284?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/5376085532071126284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=5376085532071126284&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5376085532071126284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5376085532071126284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/11/500-days-of-summer.html' title='500 days of Summer'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-4561357762256402291</id><published>2009-11-11T21:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:36:53.164+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Out and About'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project 52'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me Time'/><title type='text'>Project 52: Week 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Svq77BR3N_I/AAAAAAAAA8s/yhSUXBDo2Is/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDA1ODgtMjAwOTExMDgtMTEzNC5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-792544"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402837325614364658" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Svq77BR3N_I/AAAAAAAAA8s/yhSUXBDo2Is/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDA1ODgtMjAwOTExMDgtMTEzNC5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-792544" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Judd, my colleague from the Philippines, once told me something that I have now found very true: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The thing I love about Starbucks is that it tastes the same in every country, anywhere." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went up to Genting with some friends for the weekend, and we hung out a whole lot at Starbucks, mostly for the WIFI (which was honestly really slow but we were too deprived to complain). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how I loved just sipping my steaming Latte with the cool wind whipping by. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the Latte didn't stay steaming for very long. Oh well. It was good while it lasted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S: I can't seem to keep up with Project 52 because I don't take much pictures with my camera. So I've decided that I'll just blog from my Blackberry, I take wayyyy more pictures on this device.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-4561357762256402291?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/4561357762256402291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=4561357762256402291&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/4561357762256402291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/4561357762256402291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/11/project-52-week-5.html' title='Project 52: Week 5'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Svq77BR3N_I/AAAAAAAAA8s/yhSUXBDo2Is/s72-c/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDA1ODgtMjAwOTExMDgtMTEzNC5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-792544' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-2198092657711047471</id><published>2009-11-06T21:47:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:37:02.349+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='From The Web'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scruffy'/><title type='text'>How Social Media Found My Missing Dog (Part Two)</title><content type='html'>This is a two-part story about how I lost my pet dog Scruffy but found him again through social media.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Read &lt;a href="http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/11/how-social-media-found-my-missing-dog.html"&gt;Part One&lt;/a&gt; if you haven't already. And be appreciative that there is actually a Part Two, because it's very characteristic of me to not finish what I started!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This part will follow the story of how Scruffy came to be found and kept safe with his host family. Minute details may not be exact because all of the information was extracted from the conversation I had with Dolly and Auntie Teresa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THE STORY'S CHARACTERS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I talk about how it all started, you'll need to familiarize yourself with the characters in this story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400994798336964514" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvQwJ0Sbd6I/AAAAAAAAA8Q/p5MS9eDQxTE/s400/characters.jpg" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HOW IT ALL STARTED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday, November 2nd, Neighbour X was taking a walk when he saw a cute dog sniffing about the bushes and wandering around. There was no tag, no leash and no collar. Just a furry, clueless dog among the greenery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sat down nearby and offered some bread to the dog. Slowly but cautiously, the dog ate the bread, and gradually warmed up to the stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 30 minutes of observation, the dog didn't budge from his playground, and nobody came to claim him, so Neighbour X concluded that it was a stray or lost dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He brought it back home with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A NEW EXPERIENCE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Neighbour X has not had a pet dog before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He soon realised that it was quite a handful to take care of an animal that he did not have experience in handling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although the lost dog was tame and of minimal fuss, he thought it would be better to hand it over to someone who would be a better candidate to take care of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;AUNTIE TERESA THE SAVIOUR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Auntie Teresa was skeptical when Neighbour X first approached her with the new responsibility. She wasn't sure if her dog Jewel would get along well with it, or if she was even capable of taking care of two dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But upon hearing Neighbour X's intentions to give the dog away to some workers' dormitory, she decided to give the lost dog a place in her home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DOLLY SHOWS OFF HER NEW PET&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The family soon realised that both dogs got along really well. The new dog was also settling in comfortably and did not shiver like the first day that he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dolly invited her best friend, Sweetie over to play with her new dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie asked, "What are you going to name him?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Dolly wasn't sure. Somehow she knew that the dog wouldn't stay long with her, and she wasn't ready to grow attached to it and then suffer a heartache later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she left it nameless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SWEETIE RETURNS HOME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That very night, Sweetie returned home and decided to surf some blogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dolly claimed that Sweetie is not a regular reader of Xiaxue. But that night, Sweetie logged on to view Xiaxue's blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that very moment, she saw the retweet on Xiaxue's live twitter feed (which honestly gets updated and pushed down really fast because of Xiaxue's constant flood of tweets).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401002290176715522" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvQ295kN6wI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/EuYWRLno_0o/s400/twitterxx1.jpg" style="display: block; height: 215px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She decided to click on the link and staring back at her was a dog that looked like the dog she was playing with just moments ago!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvKXcLRbYfI/AAAAAAAAA64/7CnlBeFBurQ/s400/scruffy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SWEETIE CALLS DOLLY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie called Dolly at once to inform her that she might have found the lost dog's owner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Together, they traced back the tweets and found my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DOLLY CONTACTS ME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dolly sent me two emails, and added me on Facebook with the message that she might have found Scruffy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But her efforts were fruitless simply because I was by my mobile all the time, expecting people to call via the posters we put up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was out most of the time putting up posters and talking to people. I was NOT expecting someone to email me and checking Facebook was the least of my concerns at that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Dolly had to send me public message through my chat box - and even then it took me half a day to spot it because my blog was the last place I'd look for clues of Scruffy's disappearance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I MEET SCRUFFY'S SAVIOURS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I responded to the message, and I met Auntie Teresa and Dolly, who are about the nicest people I have met. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They truly loved Scruffy and I'm so glad Scruffy was in good hands all the while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I INFORM THE ANXIOUS TWITTERWORLD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now everyone was anxious to know if I'd found Scruffy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let out a tweet that it IS Scruffy and once again I was flooded with congratulatory tweets! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401006376204797138" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvQ6rvNOhNI/AAAAAAAAA8g/z4fPWymu2fA/s400/congrats.jpg" style="display: block; height: 330px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THE MOST AMAZING EXPERIENCE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have worked in the social media scene for about two years now, but this is by far the most spectacular experience ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to thank everybody who helped tweeted and create the awareness, and Wendy who picked it up too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad I have Scruffy back and my next task now is to get him a collar whether he likes it or not, and formulate a new pee routine :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-2198092657711047471?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/2198092657711047471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=2198092657711047471&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/2198092657711047471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/2198092657711047471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/11/how-social-media-found-my-missing-dog_06.html' title='How Social Media Found My Missing Dog (Part Two)'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvQwJ0Sbd6I/AAAAAAAAA8Q/p5MS9eDQxTE/s72-c/characters.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-3833995397257459744</id><published>2009-11-06T11:28:00.016+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:37:09.451+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='From The Web'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scruffy'/><title type='text'>How Social Media Found My Missing Dog (Part One)</title><content type='html'>I have an amazing story to tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started and ended with social media.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HOW IT ALL STARTED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was away in KL when it all happened. Having found a prepaid plan to fund my Blackberry usage in Malaysia, I left my Singapore number stored away, which meant that nobody could contact me except via email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which was fine, I thought, since it was a weekend anyway, and most of my work was settled so why not make the most of my holiday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little did I know that Scruffy had gone missing in the morning. My sister let Scruffy out on his usual pee routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scruffy is not paper-trained. We got him when he was about two, so it was too late to give him any proper training. But over the years, we formulated a routine that we thought worked best for his pee and poo business, since he wouldn't do it in the house and he was so fond of dashing out (we live on the ground floor).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400833174802106834" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvOdKFs5idI/AAAAAAAAA7A/r77_Cdz5pjE/s400/peeroutine.jpg" style="display: block; height: 302px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WHAT WENT WRONG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister was rushing off to be some where and judging by his pee routine, she thought that Mum would be wrapping it up as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Mum couldn't, because my parents were out of the country!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She only realised so when Mum texted a reminder to "let the dog out" and by the time she got back three hours later, Scruffy was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was very worrying because Scruffy has snuck out before but he has always dutifully returned home and sit at the front steps, waiting for us to open the door for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SOCIAL MEDIA TOOL #1: FACEBOOK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After searching for over 12 hours and not being able to contact me, my sister used the tool which she knew we connected best in: Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Because she doesn't tweet and we find it disturbing to read each other's blogs.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400834837005670914" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvOeq15HGgI/AAAAAAAAA7I/dy4GB-53uz8/s400/scruffgone.jpg" style="display: block; height: 65px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 352px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got it about midnight and when I reached Singapore, I woke her up to ask about Scruffy. By then, he was missing for about 16 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SOCIAL MEDIA TOOL #2: TWITTER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling pretty desperate at this point, I thought it'd be no harm to &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/davienne/status/5387447082"&gt;tweet about it&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400839498193928226" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvOi6KK_gCI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/tV7wUUrseIc/s400/scruffytwit.jpg" style="display: block; height: 212px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't expect much out of Twitter. It was more of to let my friends know and hopefully, they would pass it on to friends who live in the East.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I was WRONG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400843004244724562" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvOmGPOpC1I/AAAAAAAAA7Y/NxF06aKnkaU/s400/retweets.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Twitter retweets were &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;overwhelming&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had about 70 retweets within two hours. The response was so ridiculous, I actually felt guilty for "spamming" Twitter with my lost dog ad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interesting thing was that through all my followers, the message actually reached leading Twitterers in Singapore like &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/miyagi"&gt;MrMiyagi&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/xiaxue"&gt;Xiaxue&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/patlaw"&gt;PatLaw&lt;/a&gt;, who further spread the message - thank you, you guys for having a big heart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY TWO: SCRUFFY'S DISAPPEARANCE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day Two was spent mostly making a police report, calling up SPCA and sorting out Scruffy's microchip number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Scruffy was adopted by me, I went back to his previous owner to ask for his dog licence and that's when we both found out for three years, both parties thought that the other party had it. *facepalm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Day Two, we still didn't have much progress, save for a few weird phone calls. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;("Hi, I saw Scruffy running happily with a pedigree dog. I think he's happy right now. Bye!" / "How old is your lost dog? Because my daughter insisted I call up to ask.")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The torrential rain also made matters worse by dampening our spirits and the posters that we put out in the streets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SOCIAL MEDIA TOOL #3: PLURK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was depressed at work until &lt;a href="http://sheylara.com/"&gt;Sheylara&lt;/a&gt; MSNed me just as I was about to knock off, asking me if I was free to meet up near my place to search for Scruffy, because "Goonfather plurked about it and got a search group going".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400846656466631106" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvOpa00MucI/AAAAAAAAA7g/p7Iw4QM_Jeg/s400/gfplurk.jpg" style="display: block; height: 147px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at 7.30pm the &lt;a href="http://sheylara.com/images09/0618clubmorte.jpg"&gt;Club Morte&lt;/a&gt; group gathered, about eight of us, split up into smaller groups and headed off in different directions to search for Scruffy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400847120317653570" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvOp10y5okI/AAAAAAAAA7o/VweFxZicny8/s400/GFPLURK1.jpg" style="display: block; height: 333px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stuck up more posters, approached dog owners and passers-by. Then everybody ate a little supper before heading home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really, really touched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY THREE: SCRUFFY'S DISAPPEARANCE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Day Three, we were still getting weird calls. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;("Can you give me your address so I can come by and search for Scruffy together with you?")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this day I was missing my dog a whole lot. The empty dog bed and silence when I came home was hitting me hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400853939892357874" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvOwCxsNivI/AAAAAAAAA74/cJ_b6v0x5XM/s400/fb1.jpg" style="display: block; height: 146px; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister left a Facebook comment and it was the trigger to my dam. I was balling my eyes out in the office when I saw the comment. What if Scruffy doesn't come home at all??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At night I went out to search for Scruffy but it rained pretty badly again so it was minimal, what I could do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SOCIAL MEDIA TOOL #4: BLOGGING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to post up a blog post about Scruffy, just in case people searched online and hopefully, they'd get directed to my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I published my post, I saw a message left on my blog! It was a really short message the day before, asking me to call a particular number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400850006415903986" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvOsd0WWDPI/AAAAAAAAA7w/Nm-M2wPDo5I/s400/chatbox.jpg" style="display: block; height: 239px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 177px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called at noon, but there was no answer. Tried again many times until at about 8pm, a lady picked up and spoke to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She described Scruffy as a "grey and brown dog" that "hops around" when he runs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was getting excited by this minute. "Are you sure?!" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she went on to say that Scruffy was very greedy, and jumped very high when she gave him food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 90% sure it was Scruffy. I grabbed her address and scheduled to meet her in an hour's time, when she would be home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400854773041205794" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvOwzRaYEiI/AAAAAAAAA8A/tlTX-bHzNJs/s400/scrufftwit2.jpg" style="display: block; height: 201px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tweeted about it to update everybody, and many replied with well-wishes. I even got anxious calls asking if I've met up with the lady yet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FINDING SCRUFFY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I reached her home, I saw two dogs greeting me at the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one of the dogs, was my beloved Scruffy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady, whom I later knew as Auntie Teresa, let him out and he started sniffing and licking me all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spoke about how she came to contact me, and it was actually via her daughter Dolly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all one big story, saved for Part Two, but for now you guys should know that Dolly found me through Twitter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Social media sure rocks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400856358614010322" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvOyPkIZCdI/AAAAAAAAA8I/IOaIdldRLLI/s400/reunited.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Reunited!&lt;/span&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/5909400-3833995397257459744?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/3833995397257459744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=3833995397257459744&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/3833995397257459744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/3833995397257459744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/11/how-social-media-found-my-missing-dog.html' title='How Social Media Found My Missing Dog (Part One)'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvOdKFs5idI/AAAAAAAAA7A/r77_Cdz5pjE/s72-c/peeroutine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-6337436413598675450</id><published>2009-11-05T17:07:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:37:28.430+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scruffy'/><title type='text'>Scruffy's Missing</title><content type='html'>&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400545413488665074" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvKXcLRbYfI/AAAAAAAAA64/7CnlBeFBurQ/s400/scruffy.jpg" style="display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Name:&lt;/span&gt; Scruffy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gender/Age:&lt;/span&gt; Male, 6 years (looks like a puppy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Breed/Colour&lt;/span&gt;: Yorkshire Terrier, Grey&amp;amp;Golden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Description:&lt;/span&gt; Has a bunny hop when he runs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Missing on:&lt;/span&gt; Monday, 2 November 2009, near Kembangan, Lengkong Tiga Block 111&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Contact:&lt;/span&gt; *censored* if spotted or found. $300 reward provided, no questions asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*** &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scruffy, please come home soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am too sad to continue writing anything more but people please pass on the message ok? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you all so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-6337436413598675450?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/6337436413598675450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=6337436413598675450&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/6337436413598675450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/6337436413598675450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/11/scruffys-missing.html' title='Scruffy&apos;s Missing'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SvKXcLRbYfI/AAAAAAAAA64/7CnlBeFBurQ/s72-c/scruffy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-1460178440458660331</id><published>2009-10-29T19:46:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:37:44.747+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reflective'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>and the dust settles...</title><content type='html'>I don't know how event planners do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They build an event from the scraps into a wonderful piece of art, and when it ends, they move on to the next job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Blog Awards ended, I felt a huge part of me cut out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;But it was also sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I browse through the memories of red carpet night, there's the sickening realization that all's that kept alive of the night is the official Flickr page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People will move on to the next bigger things, and the glitter will all fade into the background; but at least, it's a happy ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2577/4048376845_fc32d71e8c_b.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 500px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People have come up to me, congratulating me on the success of the Awards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it really my success?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It certainly was not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The HONEST truth is, as cliche as it might sound, I couldn't have done it with my wonderful team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boss Ming was being generous when he thanked me publicly for making the event possible. If it were not for his hand, I would not have walked out of the maze that at one point, I was comfortable being trapped in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2493/4052127960_5eaa0fbf2e_b.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 500px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My girls, who have volunteered their support ever so readily, nagging at me to catch up on my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had no idea that me pulling all-nighters was not solely attributed to the tight timeline of planning the event, but more of me being an overprotective and possessive worker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was afraid that if I just finished up my work and leave for home, I would one day lose my sense of belonging and the Blog Awards would have just been "a great event", once upon a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I am constantly in awe how we find the right fits for everybody. We may have flaws, but we all certainly have areas that we shine in, and it's amazing watching the pieces coming together, where everyone's so specialized and perform their roles to the best they could possibly have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2436/4052132646_de8849b78c_b.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 500px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my Programme ICs Elaine and Robb, you guys were more than my aides. You were my heart - keeping the blood pumping and everything in working order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't have asked for better. I really couldn't have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been putting off my thank-you speech to the team, as should come with the end of all events. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because it's hard saying good-bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's a process we have to go through, and I'm glad we all endured this together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-1460178440458660331?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/1460178440458660331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=1460178440458660331&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/1460178440458660331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/1460178440458660331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/10/and-dust-settles.html' title='and the dust settles...'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-1335586411505105637</id><published>2009-10-14T23:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:38:02.918+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project 52'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Project 52, Week 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="mobile-photo"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/StXvi36IclI/AAAAAAAAA6w/t_ZU6Ma0k-4/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDA1MTMtMjAwOTEwMDUtMTIzMy5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-774463"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392479511248400978" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/StXvi36IclI/AAAAAAAAA6w/t_ZU6Ma0k-4/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDA1MTMtMjAwOTEwMDUtMTIzMy5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-774463" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Sorry I totally missed Week 4 because we were too busy planning and executing stuff for the Blog Awards! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a picture of our shoe rack.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sits outside the office, and everyone has to take off their footwear before stepping into the office. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's because we have a really homely office and we intend to keep it that way! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love it on Wednesdays when the shoe rack is full, and the shoes start spilling onto the floor. It means our team is back into the office and kinda shows how much Nuffnang has grown - yes, just by looking at the shoe rack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, we'll have a shoe rack as tall as a cabinet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Boss Ming's shoes will remain where only his shoes are allowed to be - right at the doorstep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-1335586411505105637?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/1335586411505105637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=1335586411505105637&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/1335586411505105637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/1335586411505105637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/10/project-52-week-4.html' title='Project 52, Week 4'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/StXvi36IclI/AAAAAAAAA6w/t_ZU6Ma0k-4/s72-c/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDA1MTMtMjAwOTEwMDUtMTIzMy5qcGc%3D%3F%3D-774463' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-8020065703696756173</id><published>2009-10-04T23:50:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T00:11:01.122+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Out and About'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project 52'/><title type='text'>Project 52: Week 3</title><content type='html'>I don't really remember what it really feels like to enjoy partying anymore :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can think of most of the time now is how tired I am at 2am, or how one minute more is akin to added risk of bad skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's us a post party for the F1 race at Amber Lounge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388773530313250594" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SsjE-ZFZVyI/AAAAAAAAA6o/Wtk2nnESOP0/s400/R1065456.jpg" style="display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was free flow alcohol all night. Liza and I lunged for the whiskey but we found that the "proper" way to tackle such events as ladies was to order champagne and hold the glasses half-full by their stems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By 1am we were all bored and falling asleep. We entertained ourselves by pointing out the cuties (but we were really spoilt for choice - it was the first time I'd seen so many good-looking people at one place) then when we were done with that, moved on to drunks who were embarrassing themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel ashamed that I rather stay at home/hang out with friends than go to pretentious parties like this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness for the company!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-8020065703696756173?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/8020065703696756173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=8020065703696756173&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/8020065703696756173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/8020065703696756173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/10/project-52-week-3.html' title='Project 52: Week 3'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SsjE-ZFZVyI/AAAAAAAAA6o/Wtk2nnESOP0/s72-c/R1065456.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-5529705109689178264</id><published>2009-09-29T00:20:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:38:35.772+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project 52'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Project 52: Week 2</title><content type='html'>This week's been a really crazy week, with the Blog Awards round the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it's all happening so fast - we need more TIME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The planning is all taking shape now but the execution can really be a bitch. So many deadlines to meet, constant improvisations and flooded email inboxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, I threw Elaine the task of coming up with the VIP and Guest list for the Awards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If not for these clients and important people, Nuffnang would not be where we are right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386554197397155906" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SsDigNs_MEI/AAAAAAAAA6g/uv6bbU_lwvk/s400/R1065358.jpg" style="display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I threw my boxes of namecards her way, and Ming dug out his &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cartons&lt;/span&gt; of namecards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She ended up with a whole pile of namecards strewn all over the desk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was hiding a smile - that really, we've come a long way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-5529705109689178264?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/5529705109689178264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=5529705109689178264&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5529705109689178264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5529705109689178264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/09/project-52-week-2.html' title='Project 52: Week 2'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SsDigNs_MEI/AAAAAAAAA6g/uv6bbU_lwvk/s72-c/R1065358.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-5333994124525503826</id><published>2009-09-27T23:53:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:38:49.090+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me Time'/><title type='text'>It's Krrunch Time, Get Playful!</title><content type='html'>I've been having late nights and alcohol throughout the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come Sunday, I decided to give my body a rest and just.. stay at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I woke up this morning, sat up in my bed. I saw bleakness staring back at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was terrifying. I was going to slack my whole Sunday at home while the world was out watching cars racing and crashing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In less than five minutes, I was BBM-ing Val, trying to get her psyched up about swimming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she said YES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what would swimming and tanning be without some snacks right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386178578233739650" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sr-M4TRwyYI/AAAAAAAAA6I/q1siHcehaS0/s400/krrunchtime.jpg" style="display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually was craving the Seafood flavour, and walked three places just to buy one can, but the neighbourhood convenience store, Cheers and 7-eleven all didn't have stock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to make do with the classic flavours. I decided to make up for it by dressing in green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, it was all coincidental! (Except the slippers. I slipped them on to add on to the green.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually had my green tank on already. Dumped my towel and tanning oil into my light green Espirit tote, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. That was when I looked into the mirror and realised I was all green!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, now my Pringles Sour Cream fits so well into the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;HOW TO MAKE TANNING MORE "KRRUNCH" WITH PRINGLES&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Lay out your Pringles chips&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And see how long you take to gobble them up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386181178212730258" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sr-PPo9DxZI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/1j54gjYvCXY/s400/krrunchtime1.jpg" style="display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time taken: approximately four seconds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Balance a Pringles can on your tummy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was extremely hard work ok!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386182234306178418" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sr-QNHNW7XI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/5X3M5MdZrb4/s400/krrunchtime2.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 267px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wind was blowing so hard the can kept toppling over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FINE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My fats were wobbling so hard the can kept toppling over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, I said the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do YOU Krrunch with Pringles?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-5333994124525503826?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/5333994124525503826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=5333994124525503826&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5333994124525503826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5333994124525503826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-krrunch-time-get-playful.html' title='It&apos;s Krrunch Time, Get Playful!'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sr-M4TRwyYI/AAAAAAAAA6I/q1siHcehaS0/s72-c/krrunchtime.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-5147266092034844050</id><published>2009-09-23T23:04:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:38:59.317+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Project 52'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me Time'/><title type='text'>Project 52: Week 1</title><content type='html'>OK to motivate myself to blog more, I'm going to start on Project 52 (sorry can't do Project 365 that will totally kill me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's just going to be random photos that I take with my Ricoh or Blackberry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384679721629278882" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sro5rXT2YqI/AAAAAAAAA6A/lydAu71z71k/s400/blogoutfit.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 201px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Week 1: One of the Wednesdays in office&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesdays are our no-meetings day. Everybody comes back to the office, sits down and follows up with clients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since most of us are out for meetings on regular days, we like to take the chance to dress down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh I just love Wednesdays! Hate pencil skirts, button-up shirts and blouses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My outfit:&lt;br /&gt;1.Black military vest, Far East plaza&lt;br /&gt;2. Oriental tube, thrifted from flea&lt;br /&gt;3. White shorts, Ripcurl&lt;br /&gt;4. Black flats, Mondo&lt;br /&gt;5. Bag, Calvin Klein&lt;br /&gt;6. Watch, Casio&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-5147266092034844050?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/5147266092034844050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=5147266092034844050&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5147266092034844050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5147266092034844050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/09/project-52-week-1.html' title='Project 52: Week 1'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/Sro5rXT2YqI/AAAAAAAAA6A/lydAu71z71k/s72-c/blogoutfit.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-3542106401261913207</id><published>2009-09-08T22:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:39:09.153+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Out and About'/><title type='text'>hello, friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379107263151379506" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SqZtjlzclDI/AAAAAAAAA54/IsigqI0oTMk/s400/R1064385.jpg" style="display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;^ Perhentian, Day 1, Waiting for our snorkel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think for the first time in my life, I'm embracing singlehood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that I'm infatuated with this whole idea. It's just that I've learnt to deal with it like a normal person should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And surprisingly, I can be pretty contented and happy! Maybe a little too anxious to move on, but I think I'm in a better position than I was two years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The key to this is really... FRIENDS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stress how important friendship is. I don't know if I should be ashamed or proud I've rediscovered so many relationships. Plus newly-forged ones too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every evening I'm with a special friend, new or old. And we're chilling and laughing about silly things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said, I'm still a little anxious, but this time round, I wouldn't mind slowing down just a little.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-3542106401261913207?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/3542106401261913207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=3542106401261913207&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/3542106401261913207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/3542106401261913207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/09/hello-friend.html' title='hello, friend'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SqZtjlzclDI/AAAAAAAAA54/IsigqI0oTMk/s72-c/R1064385.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-6915607391147635722</id><published>2009-08-31T08:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:39:20.067+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A Piece of Me'/><title type='text'>Terrible Monday Blues</title><content type='html'>I don't know if it was the coffee.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That kept me in a semi-conscious state during sleep. My ears pricked to every car turning into the carpark. I was aware of my mum leaving the house for her 6am flight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or is it fear that keeps my heart hammering in my chest - that background fear that I can't quite put a finger to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember this feeling all too well - when I knew all was lost but I had to move on with my life. But I had to feel the way I felt because I couldn't control my emotions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to think that it was the caffeine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, I can control myself perfectly fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-6915607391147635722?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/6915607391147635722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=6915607391147635722&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/6915607391147635722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/6915607391147635722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/08/terrible-monday-blues.html' title='Terrible Monday Blues'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-5831583814815053734</id><published>2009-08-28T18:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:39:26.481+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Posts'/><title type='text'>sad</title><content type='html'>OK I just got my bill and the absolute shock of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm very perturbed because I've never chalked up so much in phone bills before and it's worse because the company's paying for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll absorb some of the cost because it's just too ridiculous.. I must have been going trigger happy when Ming told me to go ahead and turn on data roaming when we were in KL. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just very sad and affected. (I know, it's just a phone bill!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. I need some retail therapy............&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-5831583814815053734?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/5831583814815053734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=5831583814815053734&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5831583814815053734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5831583814815053734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/08/sad.html' title='sad'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-5674391051703369591</id><published>2009-08-25T23:01:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:39:34.324+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Out and About'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reflective'/><title type='text'>Snail, or hermit?</title><content type='html'>&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373926964295183458" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SpQGGgu1LGI/AAAAAAAAA5w/mFvFZ9akg2Y/s400/blog_snail.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 399px;" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;^ Snail scooped off the beach in Perhentian&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373926962584024610" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SpQGGaW29iI/AAAAAAAAA5o/eO2XjL3vcps/s400/blog_hermit.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 370px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic; text-align: right;"&gt;^ Hermit crab hiding in its pretty orange shell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today somebody told me this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"It's scary that everybody - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;everybody &lt;/span&gt;- is an actor."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It reminded me of something I read a while back, one of the theories stemming from &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbolic_interactionism"&gt;Symbolic Interactionism&lt;/a&gt;, by Goffman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Read on if you have a specific interest in Sociology, or do not have any other method of killing boredom.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goffman described the interaction of society at a micro-level, or more importantly - people, and how they behaved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He likened human beings to actors, and Life as a theatre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We act differently to different people, to invoke a certain perception we want them to have of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for our whole life, we're just acting. Making people believe what we want them to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's scary because everybody's doing it. It's a way of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(You can stop worrying because that's all about Sociology for today.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to this question: Would you rather be a snail, or a hermit crab?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A snail&lt;/span&gt; - Stuck in its own shell. Boring. But comfortable and stable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A hermit crab&lt;/span&gt; - Able to change shells as and when you like. Unpredictable because you might get crappy looking shells. But exciting because you never know when you might find a beautiful shell to live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to answer my own question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I thought long and hard about it, and I think: I WANT to be a snail, but what I truly am - a hermit crab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a pathetic hermit crab who keeps finding the lousy shells at that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-5674391051703369591?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/5674391051703369591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=5674391051703369591&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5674391051703369591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/5674391051703369591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/08/snail-or-hermit.html' title='Snail, or hermit?'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_onGSGD6R6A8/SpQGGgu1LGI/AAAAAAAAA5w/mFvFZ9akg2Y/s72-c/blog_snail.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5909400.post-296636844298801367</id><published>2009-08-21T22:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T19:39:43.567+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Posts'/><title type='text'>Layered smells</title><content type='html'>I don't know how many times I've said this, but I'm gonna say it once more. &lt;br /&gt;I love the smell of onions. &lt;br /&gt;They make me feel like everything is a fresh, new experience. &lt;br /&gt;The air feels crisp, novel and exciting. &lt;br /&gt;That's all I have to say. Sorry. When there's blogging on the go, you're going to get more posts like this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5909400-296636844298801367?l=davienne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/feeds/296636844298801367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5909400&amp;postID=296636844298801367&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/296636844298801367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5909400/posts/default/296636844298801367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://davienne.blogspot.com/2009/08/layered-smells.html' title='Layered smells'/><author><name>davienne</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01203466697280775802'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>