tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67085460393184587412024-02-19T10:08:46.530+08:00Rambling AmeBethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-11458274028468174132020-10-04T15:33:00.002+08:002020-10-04T15:33:17.801+08:00My Nora Roberts/JD Robb Collection<p><span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1454" data-original-width="1600" height="355" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vbcns-gZ8zk/X3jC7gH9QyI/AAAAAAAAJqM/RMzfX0O356YjxAkP9_oN4Xh_ip1OM7ZXgCLcBGAsYHQ/w390-h355/JD%2BRobb%2B2.jpg" width="390" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>My entire Nora Roberts and JD Robb collection, which I've
read so many times, I've even memorized some of the dialogues and
scenes. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>I'm in awe of Nora Roberts/JD Robb that she can write so
many books, and each one filled with so much details that you can
actually picture the scenes in your mind. Truly a talented writer. I
salute you. Thank you for sharing with us your memo</span><span></span><span>rable stories.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Currently though, I'm hooked on her In Death Series (Nora Roberts writing under the pseudonym, JD Robb). <br /></span></span></p><p><span> </span><span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1151" data-original-width="1600" height="292" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NKj78fFABeI/X3jCzQnGvQI/AAAAAAAAJqI/RujGBiGrmKIsV17R6bPcF_jcPu9QYUeWQCLcBGAsYHQ/w406-h292/JD%2BRobb%2B1.jpg" width="406" /></a></div><p></p><p><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Thanks to online bookstores, I managed to get some of the
older books in the In Death series that could not be found in
bookshops. So my 2020 goal is to read the entire collection in sequence
from Book 1. I'm halfway through my goal. </span></span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>I love the progression
of characters, to see how Eve and Roarke have grown through the series,
and how their relationship with each other and the supporting characters
have changed them for the better. Eve Dallas is an inspiring woman,
fighting for justice and her loved ones. Thank you JD Robb for giving us
Eve and Roarke, and all the supporting characters. I can't get enough
of them. An amazing author that makes you fall in love with her
characters, and feel pain for their struggles, and joy for their
accomplishments. </span></span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="286" data-original-width="500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D7dgD3dY6_I/X3jG9-uEGzI/AAAAAAAAJqc/Sm-VcBbNKgEHvWIwk51FTfgW8N8yTqDNACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Bookworm%2Bproblems.gif" width="320" /></a><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></span><br /><span></span></span></div><p></p>Ameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13051969731226900451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-3512693482710558642020-10-04T02:21:00.001+08:002020-10-04T15:27:57.669+08:00Reveal Your Bookshelf<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ni91d-ewHXk/X3i-FOyoAVI/AAAAAAAAJpk/wybj8xdYYD4U1pZyjrX08FGSMfYo87FsQCLcBGAsYHQ/s908/1%2Bfor%2Bblog.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span></span></span></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="235" data-original-width="420" height="157" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ytKFLtaG2F0/X3jADQSHsqI/AAAAAAAAJp8/6x-Cs4UHB68jwyGLpv363--R25xTtESXgCLcBGAsYHQ/w281-h157/Reveal%2BMy%2BBookShelf.gif" width="281" /></a></span></div><br /><p></p><h2 class="_6lAjh"><div class="Igw0E IwRSH eGOV_ _4EzTm ItkAi"><span class="Jv7Aj mArmR MqpiF"></span></div></h2><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><a class="xil3i" href="https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/revealyourshelf/" tabindex="0" target="_blank">#RevealYourShelf</a> No Place Like Home to enjoy a good book... </span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="908" data-original-width="871" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ni91d-ewHXk/X3i-FOyoAVI/AAAAAAAAJpk/wybj8xdYYD4U1pZyjrX08FGSMfYo87FsQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/1%2Bfor%2Bblog.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ni91d-ewHXk/X3i-FOyoAVI/AAAAAAAAJpk/wybj8xdYYD4U1pZyjrX08FGSMfYo87FsQCLcBGAsYHQ/s908/1%2Bfor%2Bblog.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span></span></span></a></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>So what happens when you discover Book Depository, you run out of space in your bookshelf, of course. Thank you for giving me the chance to indulge in my love for books. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><a class="xil3i" href="https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/bookwormproblems/" tabindex="0" target="_blank">#bookwormproblems</a>
When you spend all your money on books, but not on a new bookshelf. I
need a new bookshelf, but there's no space for a bookshelf, so I also
need a new house... <br /> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1082" height="375" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wiV1gCoh3xI/X3i6WjH3RrI/AAAAAAAAJo8/OhdCZzrwptI4iiuUUSStycr3KeOBhg_yACLcBGAsYHQ/w253-h375/IMG20201003170624.jpg" width="253" /></a></div><p><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1383" data-original-width="1600" height="267" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Zm6HMrWYdg/X3i6WBZZBLI/AAAAAAAAJo4/ZhdGfdvDbFEUAVL2vRDq9ErFQT6gv7KDACLcBGAsYHQ/w308-h267/3.jpg" width="308" /></a><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span></span><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1079" data-original-width="1600" height="257" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-68cePGsPnD8/X3i6VzB8ZqI/AAAAAAAAJo0/rgIuzjfAYAg5XxApr_DU6crqIf9Cw76dACLcBGAsYHQ/w381-h257/4.jpg" width="381" /></a></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> If anyone's wondering, yes, I've read all these books, some several times. </span></span></p>Ameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13051969731226900451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-21998719551968200422020-10-04T01:48:00.006+08:002020-10-04T01:49:45.603+08:00Sharing what I enjoyed<div dir="auto"><div class="ecm0bbzt hv4rvrfc ihqw7lf3 dati1w0a" data-ad-comet-preview="message" data-ad-preview="message" id="jsc_c_t"><div class="j83agx80 cbu4d94t ew0dbk1b irj2b8pg"><div class="qzhwtbm6 knvmm38d"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql rrkovp55 a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto"><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="526" height="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM6A8gaSOJnk8KIzqgKmQiSW6edxSkDWKnKPpWU9U38AcHtOuLiHsHwvoDA5YE7OwgAneA-iBYKFzcMfzINH_X8TXC3KUocdkCrjT_ARSSQKZ3rw9Uk5RCq5lEspO5Rpe0dxAnIoyP3Bfm/w346-h334/119432660_3920197597996720_9207680310810950165_o.jpg" width="346" /></a></div><br /> </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">I came across this and thought this is so me. Actually mine is more "forcing my family to watch TV Shows and Movies I like"... </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">And it happens more often than I would like to admit.. <span class="pq6dq46d tbxw36s4 knj5qynh kvgmc6g5 ditlmg2l oygrvhab nvdbi5me sf5mxxl7 gl3lb2sf hhz5lgdu"><img alt="😊" height="16" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t7f/1/16/1f60a.png" width="16" /></span><span class="pq6dq46d tbxw36s4 knj5qynh kvgmc6g5 ditlmg2l oygrvhab nvdbi5me sf5mxxl7 gl3lb2sf hhz5lgdu"><img alt="🙈" height="16" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t52/1/16/1f648.png" width="16" /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">My siblings and my mother's youngest brother's family are my victims. I force and force them to watch a show I like until they relent... </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">I'm such a wonderful sister, niece and cousin <span class="pq6dq46d tbxw36s4 knj5qynh kvgmc6g5 ditlmg2l oygrvhab nvdbi5me sf5mxxl7 gl3lb2sf hhz5lgdu"></span><span class="pq6dq46d tbxw36s4 knj5qynh kvgmc6g5 ditlmg2l oygrvhab nvdbi5me sf5mxxl7 gl3lb2sf hhz5lgdu"><img alt="😛" height="16" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t9f/1/16/1f61b.png" width="16" /></span> </div></div><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="122" data-original-width="220" height="186" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-741fa9VlQhM/X3i5NaG023I/AAAAAAAAJok/0CeX5tFsGJk6_EtjrdpdkfKMS1meGAJ_ACLcBGAsYHQ/w336-h186/No%2BI%2527m%2Bnot%2Bgif.gif" width="336" /></a></div><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Actually it's more that I have a terrific family who tolerate me... <span class="pq6dq46d tbxw36s4 knj5qynh kvgmc6g5 ditlmg2l oygrvhab nvdbi5me sf5mxxl7 gl3lb2sf hhz5lgdu"><img alt="❤" height="16" src="https://static.xx.fbcdn.net/images/emoji.php/v9/t6c/1/16/2764.png" width="16" /></span></div></div></span></span></div></div></div></div>Ameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13051969731226900451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-10305064581811844442020-10-04T01:38:00.001+08:002020-10-04T01:39:22.394+08:00My brother's wedding video<div style="margin-left: 40px;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="265" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Cv2H2mGqzSg" width="500"></iframe>
</div><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I was 12 and my sister 8, when my brother was born so we were his babysitter. I have watched him grow from a pleasant, always smiling baby and a cheerful young boy, constantly saying "I Love You", to a responsible young man, always smiling and joking, planning his wedding while watching out for his family. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">We are happy you have found the love of your life, a partner who is good to you and us... We wish you both memories to last a lifetime and a bright happy future together... My only wish was that my father had been around to see the wedding of the son he so loved and adored, but I know my father would have been there in spirit, looking down at his son from Heaven, and proud of the man he has become. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">To me, you will always be my sweet baby brother. </span></p>Ameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13051969731226900451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-44019733579321613322020-10-04T01:31:00.000+08:002020-10-04T01:31:01.548+08:00Easter 2020<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql rrkovp55 a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id" dir="auto"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="944" data-original-width="1080" height="331" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1WhrPfgtkSc/X3i03AqUUwI/AAAAAAAAJoI/UoKOvNDnAV4gxbUfh-2dMo-942YdmnFbACLcBGAsYHQ/w379-h331/92597949_3471997476150070_4260316522058088448_o.jpg" width="379" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql rrkovp55 a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id" dir="auto"> </span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql rrkovp55 a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id" dir="auto"><br /></span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql rrkovp55 a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id" dir="auto">A
different Lent and Easter this year. For years, my siblings and my
mother's brother's family have always celebrated Easter together. For
the first time we are all apart, celebrating through video calls. At
times like this, we realize how precious is family time and that we
should always treasure every moment we get to spend together as a
family. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql rrkovp55 a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id" dir="auto"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="217" data-original-width="498" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F6WQC8S3ysY/X3i0qQ71jeI/AAAAAAAAJoE/ignzK4e2Q3EfE7iQ3kELYxRbJv8IAY8owCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/I%2Blove%2Bour%2Bfamily.gif" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql rrkovp55 a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id" dir="auto">This Lent, we could not go to church, but I'm grateful to all
the priests for conducting live streaming so we do not miss out on our
weekly and Lenten obligations. Many, of various religious beliefs, are
also not able to go to their places of worship, but it does not matter
where we pray, as long as we do not waver in our faith. I pray that we
all remain strong, stay safe and that this crisis passes soon... God
bless you all... </span></span></p>Ameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13051969731226900451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-81416036177352166992020-10-04T01:15:00.006+08:002020-10-04T01:31:48.132+08:00Happy Birthday Sister<p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">"A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost." </span></span></b><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="805" height="364" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KlG-Gi8dm9k/X3iw9FIrRrI/AAAAAAAAJn4/J5nARj4MqfcDN0_Sm7qiBV0QmUpSB4oLgCLcBGAsYHQ/w272-h364/Photo%2Bfrom%2BAmeertha.jpg" width="272" /> </a></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql rrkovp55 a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto">Happy
Birthday to a sister, whose motto has always been, Family First. The
one we turn to when we need help. Who always looks out for us, and is
always there for us. I wish you all the best things in life. May God's
blessings be always upon you. And may all you wish for come true...</span></span> <br /></p>Ameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13051969731226900451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-78537327630197971472020-10-04T01:09:00.001+08:002020-10-04T01:18:15.933+08:00Happy Birthday Brother<span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>"A brother shares childhood memories and grown-up dreams."
</b></span></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://a-meramblings.blogspot.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="935" data-original-width="720" height="446" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-087NKkqBfpA/X3ipsafA3BI/AAAAAAAAJns/wQxDPfAZV8QpQKPPpRG_uwopSOxSNQRBACLcBGAsYHQ/w343-h446/IMG-20200525-WA0002.jpg" width="343" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Although my little brother is 12 years younger than me,
that doesn't stop him from always looking out for me and making sure I'm
ok. The one my mom and I call when the car or the things at home need
fixing. From being a cheerful and constantly smiling baby and child, I
am proud of the responsible and caring man he has become. Cracking us
up with his jokes and the things he says, a smile that lights up his
face, and always being there for us. I am truly blessed to have you
as a brother. May you continue to shine bright, excel at work, find joy
in all that you do, have many happy memories to treasure, and may God's
blessings be always upon you. </span></span><p></p>Ameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13051969731226900451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-23256889778530555332014-09-02T00:38:00.000+08:002014-09-02T13:56:35.084+08:00Happy National Day Malaysia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYv1PUD-tPB5zoqvdYT1fJalGMv9GxCUMl9uiKB8Wb8bciQoCds4NJZvDYrCgL1MUH1QO7BuYdr4mN2gPig6eRvicT_rmeU8WNjbVt4_WBcrDx7KU13wpJ69O4Dyyt1Y1PAl_XkkPcYQ/s1600/Merdeka+Day+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYv1PUD-tPB5zoqvdYT1fJalGMv9GxCUMl9uiKB8Wb8bciQoCds4NJZvDYrCgL1MUH1QO7BuYdr4mN2gPig6eRvicT_rmeU8WNjbVt4_WBcrDx7KU13wpJ69O4Dyyt1Y1PAl_XkkPcYQ/s1600/Merdeka+Day+2014.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><span class="st">"Malaysia, Disini Lahirnya Sebuah Cinta"</span></i> </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>“Malaysia Where Love Grows” </b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>~ The "Theme" for Malaysia's 57th </b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Independence or Merdeka Day celebrations.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>1) We have our own unique blend of English called "<span style="color: purple;">Manglish</span>" with words like "<span style="color: purple;">No <i>la</i></span>", "<span style="color: purple;">Yes <i>la</i></span>", </b></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ijuLA_wE-5tELfpfy94onTBGkpV_Ykk7b7w88ymWfsD3xvfYpiBEtu-Thtus7rRosmGd8omG0v9hP25juil-gejup2X2F_SdAiIsehEMF4T-FyyLpTdHELHKRc2dE6d7uERMtkS90Q/s1600/Really+meh.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ijuLA_wE-5tELfpfy94onTBGkpV_Ykk7b7w88ymWfsD3xvfYpiBEtu-Thtus7rRosmGd8omG0v9hP25juil-gejup2X2F_SdAiIsehEMF4T-FyyLpTdHELHKRc2dE6d7uERMtkS90Q/s1600/Really+meh.gif" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>"<span style="color: purple;">Really, <i>meh</i></span>", and so many others that sometimes leaves non-Malaysian speakers at a loss to understand what we're saying. Our '<i>la</i>'s have also been transmitted to others with many foreigners happily dropping '<i>la</i>'s here and there when they speak, sometimes even without their realization that they have adopted our style of English. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>*I love Manglish as I feel it shows our multi-racial heritage with a language born of this merging of cultures and languages from the different races in Malaysia. </b></i></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF817_F7z6ymnhrFpsjo1UNT8CxYKEDXjUQqwqXFGsjA2zcB_2AQveIbV720dGB2uzBIoKFGwP94phVI-qV-udG2V3PKx8fFjpT_bOli4VJNf7KaVvRxEPIATOmbHgURtvOiYblbEkHw/s1600/Nasi+Kandar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF817_F7z6ymnhrFpsjo1UNT8CxYKEDXjUQqwqXFGsjA2zcB_2AQveIbV720dGB2uzBIoKFGwP94phVI-qV-udG2V3PKx8fFjpT_bOli4VJNf7KaVvRxEPIATOmbHgURtvOiYblbEkHw/s1600/Nasi+Kandar.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>2) </b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>We
may stay in the city and have ample opportunities to eat all kinds of gourmet food, but when asked to make a choice, we still head to our favorite <i>Nasi Kandar
</i>Shop.</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>*<i>My siblings work in the city and when they come back home, the first visit is always to a Nasi Kandar </i>shop. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>3) We travel to foreign lands sometimes even spending years there, and although we may enjoy delicious Italian pizzas and spaghetti, authentic American burgers or original British Fish and Chips, but when we come back home to Malaysia, we drive straight to our favorite </b></span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNcgpZzJmzu_Xhu5MgBCDfldDa9Hih5ypMvC4xNr4KktWltUCt88tZf5PE93N5775FJMdJxD5U0YRjvMERIN7bGfLfAo7Io2J5B1bPRek8ShOqInhGTlD-9zphkSUjLTm0TcqpoMGWA/s1600/Fotor0901152115.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWNcgpZzJmzu_Xhu5MgBCDfldDa9Hih5ypMvC4xNr4KktWltUCt88tZf5PE93N5775FJMdJxD5U0YRjvMERIN7bGfLfAo7Io2J5B1bPRek8ShOqInhGTlD-9zphkSUjLTm0TcqpoMGWA/s1600/Fotor0901152115.jpg" height="249" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>hawkers stall and decimate <i>nasi lemak, char kway teow, thosai/Dosa, laksa, </i>curry mee, <i>roti canai, </i>etc like a person starved. Heck, I go for holidays and enjoy delicious chicken chops and pasta, and the next day hunt down Indian restaurants selling rice with spicy curries and <i>sambal</i>. It may be food I eat every day at </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAVF_Ui29aVwUF-cC4dVuqtqpQwN9r9BxP3uPjVfZBx2a5N9GQRVWL8wZ2Lo-OWSEE2jq_qbWr0-UsAFva9SrhniXSw5BXCPtNH18xucyzEn7ooHGdjP7FBxWc1lzv81mQMyRf4H2bSg/s1600/800px-Chicken_Biryani.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAVF_Ui29aVwUF-cC4dVuqtqpQwN9r9BxP3uPjVfZBx2a5N9GQRVWL8wZ2Lo-OWSEE2jq_qbWr0-UsAFva9SrhniXSw5BXCPtNH18xucyzEn7ooHGdjP7FBxWc1lzv81mQMyRf4H2bSg/s1600/800px-Chicken_Biryani.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></b></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>home thanks to my mom's amazing culinary skills but going without rice just for one day is like I've not eaten. Any meal without rice is not really a meal, just a snack.. Right? Right? Yeah. I do seriously need to work on my diet.. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>4) A must have item, in any long-distance travels to foreign lands especially for long periods of time, are packets and packets of Instant Noodles. </b></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwStnu5DIYVrIbPbeOjXCTl0Kqu3tEs6ceDT2ZqV6U4-Mf30VZZEKOpmFGDcpenFmBam_r33RaZtsFA5V1ZzgDgMCYhSCfzgtJOX8IE5nTzj1L96Q1PIXTk0K0Lf80BTwtupR7dv9PFw/s1600/Malaysia+Boleh.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwStnu5DIYVrIbPbeOjXCTl0Kqu3tEs6ceDT2ZqV6U4-Mf30VZZEKOpmFGDcpenFmBam_r33RaZtsFA5V1ZzgDgMCYhSCfzgtJOX8IE5nTzj1L96Q1PIXTk0K0Lf80BTwtupR7dv9PFw/s1600/Malaysia+Boleh.gif" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>5) We bond as one Malaysian Family over football, badminton, tennis, any sports regardless of who is playing. Our catchphrase of </b></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>"<span style="color: purple;"><i>Malaysia Boleh</i></span>!" (<span style="color: purple;">Malaysia Can!</span>) is common utterance at these games. We mourn at every loss and rejoice at every win. Whether the athlete is a Malay, Chinese, Indian, Iban, Bidayuh or Kedazan, doesn't really matter, he or she is a Malaysian, and that person gets our love and support.</b></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b> </b></i></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4lIzeHbxLlvdFB0-Z0gg6Dwz1meAagdCIEeH_bjSySpLxEBCJ1-lfO3lnWo_tRgG8Yp6ZyLGMxSySauEuITai65JX2VfSmAJlDc7VUE7lUT7szAJSubD0XXsqWZA4CM4ph8Zj8sDTiw/s1600/Badminton.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4lIzeHbxLlvdFB0-Z0gg6Dwz1meAagdCIEeH_bjSySpLxEBCJ1-lfO3lnWo_tRgG8Yp6ZyLGMxSySauEuITai65JX2VfSmAJlDc7VUE7lUT7szAJSubD0XXsqWZA4CM4ph8Zj8sDTiw/s1600/Badminton.gif" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>*I've sat through nail-bitting suspense each time Dato' Lee Chong Wei takes the badminton court, my heart breaking when he loses yet proud of his effort and cheering giddily when he wins. I've been through moments of pride and joy when Malaysia won the Thomas Cup in 1992 and every medal won by a Malaysian at this year's Commonwealth Games were celebrated.</b></i></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEGCZUAWTVB6JOdGjL_UNK4s67bdlauOSpG66C8l4Z30pS_R4g1kECEitLxP4neI_amgs6NG_NCyKhLfaIfUTdj7rClt9rwa_sbCYlCteOCKN4R3Y-MBxqnM8iXc23OxgdxMgIWdA7g/s1600/Durians.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEGCZUAWTVB6JOdGjL_UNK4s67bdlauOSpG66C8l4Z30pS_R4g1kECEitLxP4neI_amgs6NG_NCyKhLfaIfUTdj7rClt9rwa_sbCYlCteOCKN4R3Y-MBxqnM8iXc23OxgdxMgIWdA7g/s1600/Durians.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>6) No one else gets our fascination with the King of Fruits, <span style="color: purple;">Durians</span>, as one whiff of its deadly aroma sends some people especially non-Malaysians running for their lives. For most of us Malaysians however, it is sweet, sweet heaven. A creamy, melt in your mouth fruit; every bite savored and enjoyed. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>7) We <span style="color: purple;">stand together as one family when faced with adversities</span>. We may not have earthquakes but we do have floods that can devastate villages and towns. </b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>When these mother nature based calamities occur or when we face national tragedies like the recent </b></span></span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgphMBPtmNaV75RaWaXvaVCjs5BiclLI73WQo1be702C7Ey14IWEG8O8kaZZvSHjI8mZ-4x1ECc0U-igjPzLsge3fNEb-2JsXb016nwjcIxzSOKrtyBPNVGd1PJqBnsSd-HHtm2C9SqZg/s1600/mh17-memorial-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgphMBPtmNaV75RaWaXvaVCjs5BiclLI73WQo1be702C7Ey14IWEG8O8kaZZvSHjI8mZ-4x1ECc0U-igjPzLsge3fNEb-2JsXb016nwjcIxzSOKrtyBPNVGd1PJqBnsSd-HHtm2C9SqZg/s1600/mh17-memorial-3.jpg" height="208" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>sad loss of Flight MH370 and MH17, we bond as one family to grieve, reciting our prayers for the victims and their families. When help in needed, we give what we can. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>8) We may have tons of designer apparel shops in huge shopping malls, but at most nights, we can be seen at the <span style="color: purple;">night markets or </span><i><span style="color: purple;">pasar malam</span> </i>because we, Malaysians, know there is where we can get the best bargains. Quality materials at a fraction of the price. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>9) We have luxurious restaurants that are air-conditioned and classy, yet our favorite hang-out is always at a hawkers stall because we know, this is where we can get the best-tasting food. </b></span></span> <span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqgeaFBm4MkC8F1itL8SZyDoG1bnymLCaTb_AQb3KEKLGGCaEWWts_882F397lT1Dox_LucTxbv89yDoqeEdLQYTS7BDAlZWkkfqEpBF4OCg_CPtDUqM0arEJhKHrOCnca_Tfs7Cf_ig/s1600/Malaysian+Food.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqgeaFBm4MkC8F1itL8SZyDoG1bnymLCaTb_AQb3KEKLGGCaEWWts_882F397lT1Dox_LucTxbv89yDoqeEdLQYTS7BDAlZWkkfqEpBF4OCg_CPtDUqM0arEJhKHrOCnca_Tfs7Cf_ig/s1600/Malaysian+Food.jpg" height="242" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>*<i>I'm not saying these high end restaurants do not provide quality, tasty food; they do and I've enjoyed many scrumptious meals at these restaurants but there is just something </i>special <i>about eating satay, ikan bakar, ais kacang </i>or <i>teh tarik </i>at an open-air hawker joint. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>10) We have many awesome burger joints, either the fast-food variety or those at elegant restaurants, but </b></span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9L4nUCUVWUWDQR27XdYYXyiRfBLwqHsZiYJJwxzEoQMpDNXrJvPWkJz4wVc08WIw6zJcv8hVc69lx-aNJZ_7N3t2NP_KcsWWF68q4LdSIpwNgjXddicDrmTKP8X0_z9ddmyqrQkrVXg/s1600/burgers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9L4nUCUVWUWDQR27XdYYXyiRfBLwqHsZiYJJwxzEoQMpDNXrJvPWkJz4wVc08WIw6zJcv8hVc69lx-aNJZ_7N3t2NP_KcsWWF68q4LdSIpwNgjXddicDrmTKP8X0_z9ddmyqrQkrVXg/s1600/burgers.jpg" height="92" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>for us, it's the burgers from the road-side stall that we flock to. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>11) Being blessed with sun all-year-round, barbecues and picnics are common occurrences. Nothing beats meat cooked over a hot, charcoal grill. </b></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjPCk-pEj3FyCBwma4yVChjyp5CKrnXWV_yVV2ikJMwRDAGXdM6uobnaoFB3wMPAOc6r-gr46OD0nwTjhyphenhyphen0UPk1f2Kbq7Qlh2ixxovszv6y8l697HWd42kzg0vRldBa7DXwLT9IczyqQ/s1600/Thunderstorm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjPCk-pEj3FyCBwma4yVChjyp5CKrnXWV_yVV2ikJMwRDAGXdM6uobnaoFB3wMPAOc6r-gr46OD0nwTjhyphenhyphen0UPk1f2Kbq7Qlh2ixxovszv6y8l697HWd42kzg0vRldBa7DXwLT9IczyqQ/s1600/Thunderstorm.jpg" height="125" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>12) For a little excitement in our lives, we have the unpredictable weather. The weather forecast may predict hot, sunny weather but it's always handy to have an umbrella in your car as you never know when the next thunderstorm is going to make its grand entrance. </b></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://www.netanimations.net/" target="_blank">http://www.netanimations.net/</a></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_HHobWvBv4Uh_rjBuKy4O-knVP72MO32fQTZOHTa5R2vPHhHZ9onLvNZKx20y3UwoRJ6SGgHiX8yF0zQJpqiDastCVJTSmy3szQp-yllhtovi8J2Bzs1XN9bm2Yu45OXC-_656lBvA/s1600/Animated+Lantern.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_HHobWvBv4Uh_rjBuKy4O-knVP72MO32fQTZOHTa5R2vPHhHZ9onLvNZKx20y3UwoRJ6SGgHiX8yF0zQJpqiDastCVJTSmy3szQp-yllhtovi8J2Bzs1XN9bm2Yu45OXC-_656lBvA/s1600/Animated+Lantern.gif" /><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b> </b></span></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>13) <span style="color: purple;">"Open House"</span> is a happy occurrence in Malaysia. During festivals like Hari Raya Puasa, Chinese New Year, Deepavali, Christmas, Gawai, and so on, open houses will be held, so the host's friends from another race can visit them. With this Open House culture, we all, irregardless of our race or religious beliefs, celebrate together as one. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>14) As the years go by, many of us have become racially integrated, with inter-racial marriages becoming the norm. So much so, many of us are not easily identified due to our mixed parentage. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>*<i>My mom, for instance, is always mistaken for a Malay, thanks to her mixed parentage of Eurasian and Indian. In my extended family, both on my mother's side and father's side, we have an interesting mix of Indian, Malay, Chinese, Portuguese, Irish and Iban ethinicity. Family gatherings are always fun especially when Roast </i></b></span></span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifjGGWWDFID1A4k6WoJtg2tVQ62_QzE-cXvhyu5Cvkigq4LQ3aV7um-BEW_DO5X1_oy1yuzfg8E__3rtviOcuYyQHcj3tvBEddWUUEKSpULFA1nvhUDdK2VbNcdzexIC_tir4D7dRCsg/s1600/Rendang.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifjGGWWDFID1A4k6WoJtg2tVQ62_QzE-cXvhyu5Cvkigq4LQ3aV7um-BEW_DO5X1_oy1yuzfg8E__3rtviOcuYyQHcj3tvBEddWUUEKSpULFA1nvhUDdK2VbNcdzexIC_tir4D7dRCsg/s1600/Rendang.jpg" height="147" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Chicken and mashed potatoes, rendang, rice and curry, and spicy Portuguese Devil Curry adorn the table. </i></b></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>15) Ask most young Malaysians what their favorite food is and they will all unanimously say, <span style="color: purple;">"Hands down, mom's cooking!"</span>. <i> </i></b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>16) Blood relations doesn't matter here, every man is an "<span style="color: purple;">uncle</span>" and every lady is an "<span style="color: purple;">aunty</span>". We would never dream of calling our friends' parents by name. It's always "uncle" and "aunty" for us. For those still young but older than us, it's always "<i><span style="color: purple;">Kakak</span>" (</i>sister<i>), "<span style="color: purple;">Abang</span>" (</i>brother<i>) </i>and those younger are called <i>"<span style="color: purple;">adik</span>".</i> There's also the practice of young boys calling each other, "<i><span style="color: purple;">macha</span>", </i>which originates from the Indian culture and is the term for the wife's brother. Now, however, everyone is somebody's "<i>macha</i>". <i> </i></b></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>*I've recently been demoted from "Kakak" to "Aunty". I know they are just being polite, but </i>every <i>"Aunty" </i>I am called is a painful stab in my heart<i>. I guess it's time to accept that I'm not as young as I want to be. </i></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>In Malaysia, we have beautiful sandy, beaches that beckon. A paradise of islands that entice you to stay. Green forests that relax you. And for those looking for some fun and excitement, there are shopping malls, clubs, water-parks, animal reserves, national monuments and so on.<i> </i>We are never at a loss for fun things to do during the weekends and holidays. </b></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqDqOKsnJHkQReFLOYbXBiL9uU9KcXpdePAjGJ0EQck32Bwu4nIS62kv6fddPyaCNFS1uVwEx3VIGytqE-XiwCNe0GzE2VT3vIb0JGNs34-Xc3cvEfPgbzHTnuu3dWR0cj2DS2PvU9A/s1600/Kuala-Lumpur+Now.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqDqOKsnJHkQReFLOYbXBiL9uU9KcXpdePAjGJ0EQck32Bwu4nIS62kv6fddPyaCNFS1uVwEx3VIGytqE-XiwCNe0GzE2VT3vIb0JGNs34-Xc3cvEfPgbzHTnuu3dWR0cj2DS2PvU9A/s1600/Kuala-Lumpur+Now.jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Our country is not perfect. There are many things that perhaps can be tweaked a little but then again nobody and no country is ever perfect. All I hope for, as we celebrate 57 years of independence, is to look back and have pride in all that we have achieved in the past 57 years, with our skyscrapers, advanced and modern amenities, and international recognitions. An achievement made possible not only by one race but through the joint effort of every race in Malaysia; in short by Malaysians. I hope we can look past our race, skin color, religion and culture, and to not harp on our differences but to celebrate our similarities. All the things that make us special and unique. All the things that make us proud to be Malaysians. </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Disclaimer :</i></b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>The author of this blog post is not responsible for any hunger pangs or yearning resulting from the food pictures in this blog post.</i></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: blue;">Note to self : </span></i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;">The author should refrain from writing blog posts such as these when hungry. </span> </span> </i> </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/reulim/8331182057/" target="_blank">reuben.lim</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/" target="_blank">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/" target="_blank">cc</a></span></span><br />
photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/avlxyz/8745885483/" target="_blank">avlxyz</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/" target="_blank">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/" target="_blank">cc</a><br />
photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wwny/445648350/" target="_blank">wEnDaLicious</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/" target="_blank">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/" target="_blank">cc</a></span><br />
photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/irrational_cat/1298527252/" target="_blank">irrational_cat</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/" target="_blank">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/" target="_blank">cc</a><br />
photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/avlxyz/3579349613/" target="_blank">avlxyz</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/" target="_blank">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/" target="_blank">cc</a><br />
photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/haynes/4221478099/" target="_blank">Charles Haynes</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/" target="_blank">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/" target="_blank">cc</a><br />
photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/wynnie/4199902550/" target="_blank">Steel Wool</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/" target="_blank">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/" target="_blank">cc</a><br />
photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/carinasuyin/293137000/" target="_blank">carinasuyin</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com/" target="_blank">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/" target="_blank">cc</a>Ameehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13051969731226900451noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-28734197639394307722014-01-01T23:35:00.002+08:002014-01-01T23:39:36.163+08:00Happy New Year 2014<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCVSgPkLVHzzvPoRRjoEACVjZMI2BmiG6VcXR6YLa4rCKvMmo0ikjRC6QhY9_N85pAM84RCJpKzEGe9RHP-z6ABEUWm7cjOxwlRmbTzc3IlglRnmJg1owAUv5d4tj5IK1WRfH1N30ung/s1600/2013.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""animated 2013" "2013 glitter" "2013 flower animated" "2013 gif" "Happy New Year" "2013 text" "" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCVSgPkLVHzzvPoRRjoEACVjZMI2BmiG6VcXR6YLa4rCKvMmo0ikjRC6QhY9_N85pAM84RCJpKzEGe9RHP-z6ABEUWm7cjOxwlRmbTzc3IlglRnmJg1owAUv5d4tj5IK1WRfH1N30ung/s1600/2013.gif" title="2013" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.glitter-graphics.com/" target="_blank">www.glitter-graphics.com/</a></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>2013 went by in a blink of an eye. Looking back on the year, "my 2013 year in review" as Facebook urges me to do with their nifty little app, I am not sure how to feel. </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Do I feel sad that I did not achieve what I wanted to achieve or feel grateful that I had got through the year in one piece? So instead of worrying about the appropriate emotion or reminiscing about 2013, I decided to start 2014 with a simple New Year Resolution : </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: blue;">1) To not stress over things and enjoy life as it is.</span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Yes. That gray hair on my head every time I look in the mirror does irritate me but I have decided to not stress over it. (Thank Goodness dyes were invented, eh..).. Bills to pay - not stressing over it. My favorite show gets cancelled - not stressing over it... </i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQml5H_jd0hHXQvWYzKMUKkUCvQPaFCIbodAaMSLnNKAZtMb_-xqcawJNoSg6dTvMcUIMqJS2SNsY7lT2wTAZKkumNN2MUM4NfMm6m6E3uWl3pUhYxzyM1hLupezeivGWTg2jHdxKuBA/s1600/happy-kitten-kittens-5890512-1600-1200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""Kitten" "Smiling cat" "smiling kitten" "cute kitten" "smile kitten" "smile"" border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQml5H_jd0hHXQvWYzKMUKkUCvQPaFCIbodAaMSLnNKAZtMb_-xqcawJNoSg6dTvMcUIMqJS2SNsY7lT2wTAZKkumNN2MUM4NfMm6m6E3uWl3pUhYxzyM1hLupezeivGWTg2jHdxKuBA/s200/happy-kitten-kittens-5890512-1600-1200.jpg" title=""Cat"" width="200" /></a><i><br /></i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>2) <span style="color: blue;">To always smile and treasure the little
things in life. </span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>I may not have much but I am going to be grateful for what I do have.</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>3) <span style="color: blue;">To be charitable and help those in
need.</span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>I wish I was a more charitable person. I envy those who could give so much to those in need of help, whether it's money or time. My mom has always been this kind of person. Always ready to give what little she has. I aspire to be like her.</i> </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>4) <span style="color: blue;">To not be afraid to take a risk and try new things.</span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Is the grass always greener on the other side?? Maybe I should just take a risk and go on that grass surveying expedition. Who knows I may find that </i></b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMI8F3mkNCvl6l1vmg6-ILND6c_AbpJ5mM6YmXBbRwIGkaks7G0wMq0XAwyH4XD-lRtdjSlbJIHcQBSzFLU_IZ2d62_AsZbaIwwYHpS7cLnSa1rOUEu8HMkt4Bd2yTK7xVGJkECfjReQ/s1600/thinking-chubby.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""thinking smiley" "wondering smiley" "making decision smiley" "thinking" "wondering"" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMI8F3mkNCvl6l1vmg6-ILND6c_AbpJ5mM6YmXBbRwIGkaks7G0wMq0XAwyH4XD-lRtdjSlbJIHcQBSzFLU_IZ2d62_AsZbaIwwYHpS7cLnSa1rOUEu8HMkt4Bd2yTK7xVGJkECfjReQ/s1600/thinking-chubby.gif" title="Smiley" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>the grass is indeed green.. It could even be the best decision I ever made.. </i></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>5) <span style="color: blue;">To be kind in my words and thoughts. </span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Yes. I need to stop being a b***h. </i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i> </i> </b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEithAnZb7thq2jUXjQfGHK0GQGCpruzgRjY5o3Tyfsr4zqQjNBKx1DA9NFNUiS4756Tq3lYTtch3FnyoBLH3MWslDyQvg03cDY8-flAvuRvjJkeLCl49QbroKM8C3GUQ_FY3NiRJ_E3Og/s1600/World+Peace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""World Peace" "Get along" "co-operation"" border="0" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEithAnZb7thq2jUXjQfGHK0GQGCpruzgRjY5o3Tyfsr4zqQjNBKx1DA9NFNUiS4756Tq3lYTtch3FnyoBLH3MWslDyQvg03cDY8-flAvuRvjJkeLCl49QbroKM8C3GUQ_FY3NiRJ_E3Og/s200/World+Peace.jpg" title=""Peace"" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>6)<span style="color: blue;"> To not let bias or prejudice rule. </span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>I aim to be more accepting of others regardless of race, age, gender and sexual orientation. </i></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>7) <span style="color: blue;">Most importantly, that I would always be there for my
family and friends and be a good daughter, sister and
friend; in other words, be a better person. </span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>My family is the most important thing in my life and I would always be there for them. I hope that in the year to come, I can make things easier for them and make their dreams come true. </i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>As for my friends at work, I hope to always be there for them and for those friends living far away, former school and university friends, I should make an effort to keep in touch. </i> </b></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLESq2mNNs-hMPBD0Oep2WhF4oc3rLL8PWWOU3BYKKY-VZRyze_gsbOFASBT7IvreRpe7i0Ixb8swXvikSeijISwl584ue-uonEw3K7tCjrm0l19WIRGQuRWuuivJaXs6zBH_dhVplQ/s1600/ID-10064756.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""fat girl on scale" "Weighing scale" "weighing" "lose weight"" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLESq2mNNs-hMPBD0Oep2WhF4oc3rLL8PWWOU3BYKKY-VZRyze_gsbOFASBT7IvreRpe7i0Ixb8swXvikSeijISwl584ue-uonEw3K7tCjrm0l19WIRGQuRWuuivJaXs6zBH_dhVplQ/s200/ID-10064756.jpg" title="Fat" width="171" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/agree-terms.php?id=10064756" target="_blank">FreeDigitalPhotos.net</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>I know I should include "lose weight" or "do not touch that muffin, cake, burger, anything that looks delicious" in my New Year Resolution list but I was thinking why make promises I cannot keep. Yes. Yes. I will exercise more, for general health purposes but if that weighing scale stubbornly refuses to move lower, I will not stress over it. </b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_S7Yc1Zf3QNljbnc-ywt6Q3kS5aAtfRAa748EJtTkbaf71M66rKNETVKYvYlqqAhUONRLHC93Nlats_MbUorgWm-FFbzYJDjUIDqx4BkpR4Z8EpaKQnlu21Xn-L8ByXmXt0Jkko3Lw/s1600/2013.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""Animated hulk" Animated hulk punch" "punch" "hulk punch" "punching 2013" "smashing 2013" "hate 2013"" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_S7Yc1Zf3QNljbnc-ywt6Q3kS5aAtfRAa748EJtTkbaf71M66rKNETVKYvYlqqAhUONRLHC93Nlats_MbUorgWm-FFbzYJDjUIDqx4BkpR4Z8EpaKQnlu21Xn-L8ByXmXt0Jkko3Lw/s1600/2013.gif" title="Hulk" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>So for all those who had a 2013 that you wish you could smash away, may 2014 be a better year for you. </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>For those who had a wonderful 2013 (I HATE YOU! Kidding. Kidding), then here's wishing 2014 is even better. </b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>May we have a year that has less calamities, whether man-made or from nature's wrath and less fighting. </b></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXX9WSImb1_5mYJcGrieOpexTHM-8dOCnJaEvnb1g8ftvA3QlmJ-in51fLooq_HWNvZyelL94G1VhCMOGAjJo7t5AfNd96vT4Nwu4-EFK64goVobihpCm2QoYQwZ_4Es2apSDACiUyrA/s1600/New+Year+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=""Happy New Year 2014" "New Year Prayer" "New Year Resolution" "New Year wish" "New Year greetings"" border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXX9WSImb1_5mYJcGrieOpexTHM-8dOCnJaEvnb1g8ftvA3QlmJ-in51fLooq_HWNvZyelL94G1VhCMOGAjJo7t5AfNd96vT4Nwu4-EFK64goVobihpCm2QoYQwZ_4Es2apSDACiUyrA/s400/New+Year+2014.jpg" title=""Happy New Year"" width="400" /></a></div>
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Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-72722476049660727762012-12-07T02:24:00.000+08:002013-06-15T22:57:34.924+08:00Birthday Gift : It's Raining Men Video <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTGacG3ejO0osasSl2dCQ1qdlWrnvHAv8i799lQiTvfec0kAzyl1ZgGjAq4A1cJZ4taA0usJHpKns8-tIFnJwMumH2RZT9tFx8CXZc2Ov1z0Z6U3TkKkQLnwwNB5zDU0iBdkwsrIJ62w/s1600/Raining+Men+Gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTGacG3ejO0osasSl2dCQ1qdlWrnvHAv8i799lQiTvfec0kAzyl1ZgGjAq4A1cJZ4taA0usJHpKns8-tIFnJwMumH2RZT9tFx8CXZc2Ov1z0Z6U3TkKkQLnwwNB5zDU0iBdkwsrIJ62w/s1600/Raining+Men+Gif.gif" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>My sister and I may be total opposites in characteristics, personality and nature but when it comes to the hunks on TV and in music, we are always on the same page. <br /> </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>So I could not think of a better way to wish my sister, "Happy Birthday" than by celebrating those hunks, who made us go all "woo-hoo!". </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugGr4Hh_a5QcJ22Hs8R4FPqnPuqjxrQnyZxD9h2s1RrrHnOJd5IRe6YY-LnOgutXGi0I9QY0CgzwngB-nuEOz8AonwltGp4dXp3Z9cDV1DnObDGC5sNS0qBEnNjFvU2MFNbwluq3vzg/s1600/494724AB-58F4-4176-BA22-1C9062CC1C15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjugGr4Hh_a5QcJ22Hs8R4FPqnPuqjxrQnyZxD9h2s1RrrHnOJd5IRe6YY-LnOgutXGi0I9QY0CgzwngB-nuEOz8AonwltGp4dXp3Z9cDV1DnObDGC5sNS0qBEnNjFvU2MFNbwluq3vzg/s320/494724AB-58F4-4176-BA22-1C9062CC1C15.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />The video features : <br />1) Adam Lambert (lots and lots of him. What can I say<span style="font-size: large;">; </span>it's a Glambert thing!)<br />2) Vampire Diaries (especially the "smouldering, it's a sin to look this gorgeous" Ian Somerhalder)<br />3) Merlin (The BBC version with "cute, always bullied, poor" Merlin and "seems arrogant but has a kind heart" Arthur. The chemistry</b></span></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> they share is potent; total annihilation if released)<br />4) Teen Wolf (HOT werewolves. I rest my case)<br />5) Glee (musicals with men prancing around singing tunes are always HOT in my books. Yeah. I'm kinda weird)</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>6) Cliff Richard (Don't ask!)</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>7) Criminal Minds' Derek Morgan and Dr. Spencer Reid.</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>8) Those who have the moves like.. Ok.. I mean.. Those who just have the hot moves.. in dance I mean.. What did you think I was talking about? Such as Ashley Banjo, Adam Garcia, Hrithik Roshan, etc.</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>9) Barney Stinson from How I Met Your Mother... (It's gonna be.. Legen.. wait for it.. dary..) </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />and lots more.</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Sorry it's kinda long. Yeah. I tend to ramble on in my videos too. There were just too many hot guys to </b></span></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieTPLO6Hg8iuSBrP3XUUDPMAvCBeudCjMz9UA2LNnJcSnKgfxxdGdzXFXlF7tHYYAm7jfVUDpHW_2u4rS_k8PLxU2DN74r4ruWZMdOWXnDEdooFVaVxGjFv70MrY6G3Uvjg_2aUqTpWQ/s1600/shy_whistler-1043.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieTPLO6Hg8iuSBrP3XUUDPMAvCBeudCjMz9UA2LNnJcSnKgfxxdGdzXFXlF7tHYYAm7jfVUDpHW_2u4rS_k8PLxU2DN74r4ruWZMdOWXnDEdooFVaVxGjFv70MrY6G3Uvjg_2aUqTpWQ/s1600/shy_whistler-1043.gif" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>cover so I could not resist adding them all in. </b></span></span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sorry..</span> </span></span></b><br />
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Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-2188368427870780472012-12-07T01:45:00.000+08:002013-06-03T13:18:57.943+08:00My sister, Prema<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGvyBMuep2PFVpBLnstfNb4LtJoiw7u4tzpZ3lIBERLB3dREtAGmlveE5viIdBZ390p2XsSOOnhZ1ixxpHXuoYV9-WYcYqxyH_OtcSPJ6GerOeGGHEjzxlZgWp1GCEHNWBXY-RJpeQ_A/s1600/Prema+Birthday+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGvyBMuep2PFVpBLnstfNb4LtJoiw7u4tzpZ3lIBERLB3dREtAGmlveE5viIdBZ390p2XsSOOnhZ1ixxpHXuoYV9-WYcYqxyH_OtcSPJ6GerOeGGHEjzxlZgWp1GCEHNWBXY-RJpeQ_A/s400/Prema+Birthday+1.jpg" width="450" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Born 4 years after me, my sister
has always been and will always be a unique character. We are total
opposites in nature. I'm the neat freak, “don't like a thing out of
place” kind of girl while my sister is the “what is wrong if the books are not arranged properly in the bookcase” kind of
girl. </span></span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>She loves dogs and has two at her
home. A Golden Retriever (Max) and a German Shepherd (Rocky). Huge
dogs that scare the bejesus out of me. Huge enough for my young
cousins to sit on top of them and ride them like a horse </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>(I kid you
not. My cute cousins were going “giddy-up” little doggies”.
Those “little doggies” could knock them down and flat if given a
chance but that's innocence for you, they don't worry or care. Wish sometimes that I could be that carefree. </b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>It's not that I'm scared of my sister's "almost reaching her shoulders" huge dogs. I'm as big as a gorilla. <a href="http://dl.glitter-graphics.net/pub/3251/3251671ltiiv2bynb.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""animated gorilla" "gorilla gif" "animated animal"" border="0" height="70" src="http://dl.glitter-graphics.net/pub/3251/3251671ltiiv2bynb.gif" title=""gorilla"" width="97" /></a>So trying to knock me down? Yeah! So not a good idea (Ok. I think I'll stop now! Talking about my
size gets me in the “you don't want to come near me as I might bite
your head off” mood). </b></span></span><br />
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<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6wfJ1wZ56R8yg2WPW-n-QhoJMDAhUfnXi9_8aKdP2QNFvVGvI9_AqgyBEjmI0pdydteHHbSja8eTZ_1TxhgRnXnWcyMsKYeBD1igC-O57S0WLx4lgsB4l-6JS1vY0W8XJgHincSUTww/s1600/cute-dog-wallpaper_1998622807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""Cute dog" "Cute" "Puppy" "cute doggie" "doggie" "furry"" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6wfJ1wZ56R8yg2WPW-n-QhoJMDAhUfnXi9_8aKdP2QNFvVGvI9_AqgyBEjmI0pdydteHHbSja8eTZ_1TxhgRnXnWcyMsKYeBD1igC-O57S0WLx4lgsB4l-6JS1vY0W8XJgHincSUTww/s200/cute-dog-wallpaper_1998622807.jpg" title=""dog"" width="177" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So I'm in awe of my sister's
ability to handle those dogs of hers and her strength in keeping them
in line. </span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Me, on the other hand, get near anything furry and I'm like
“Eeew... stay away from me, you furry beast”.. So pets are definitely
not my thing... Or hairy men<span style="font-size: large;">, if I'm being honest. That's a s<span style="font-size: large;">t<span style="font-size: large;">ory for another <span style="font-size: large;">blog post<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> (i</span></span></span>f <span style="font-size: large;">my mom doesn't <span style="font-size: large;">censor <span style="font-size: large;">and<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>ban<span style="font-size: large;"> the said blog post). </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </b></div>
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<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBd9mGTj-s7yMWkjCw0tTz_3T5BNyeFM0-MTFrwIyjMeyiWlNmGQGXBh3qqqcai5BcxnfOsZqwYIRkjX3mHJd-FLOcth6IR9ds6SA9fUyGgY9UYqxGtjchFptnOx0knwnQWqUXbyj44g/s1600/cool.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=""young girl" "cool"" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBd9mGTj-s7yMWkjCw0tTz_3T5BNyeFM0-MTFrwIyjMeyiWlNmGQGXBh3qqqcai5BcxnfOsZqwYIRkjX3mHJd-FLOcth6IR9ds6SA9fUyGgY9UYqxGtjchFptnOx0knwnQWqUXbyj44g/s1600/cool.gif" title=""cool girl"" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I'm the quiet, shy, rather stay at
home with my books and “would rather run on hot coal than be out
partying and socializing” kind of girl. My sister is the fun, life
of the party kind of girl. The kind of girl, everyone wants to invite
to a party<span style="font-size: large;"> for they know<span style="font-size: large;"> they will have a good time if she'<span style="font-size: large;">s a<span style="font-size: large;">rou<span style="font-size: large;">nd</span></span></span></span></span></span></span>. </b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">During any family
events, when I meet up with our cousins, the first question out of
their mouths</span></span></b><br />
<a name='more'></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> will be “Isn't Prema here?”. I say “No. She has
work” and I will be greeted with <span style="font-size: large;">a </span>look of profound
disappointment on their faces. Doesn't really do much for my ego,
knowing it's her attendance they're hoping for. Luckily my ego does
very well for itself so <span style="font-size: large;">I can be happy that my sister is popular. So
is my brother. If only I could get a dollar every time someone says “I
wish Rueben was here”. Even my mom is Ms. Popularity that everyone
enjoys spending time with... </span></span></span></b><br />
<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT86QxK9ciFOtCG6BRYCaCnepJV3HvbCAF8R5QiDe2RceHEsdpzisRDjXjCo3EoYIzWDnnmlk2BF5Tcqi5s4IkPs2NkQeI_2La8lYo_e2IUPDOhKXa69N7VGBdNQskQydhLjWJZ4tlrg/s1600/pouty.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=""pouting" "Smiley" "pouty face smiley" "depressed" "Pouting face animated" "sad smiley"" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT86QxK9ciFOtCG6BRYCaCnepJV3HvbCAF8R5QiDe2RceHEsdpzisRDjXjCo3EoYIzWDnnmlk2BF5Tcqi5s4IkPs2NkQeI_2La8lYo_e2IUPDOhKXa69N7VGBdNQskQydhLjWJZ4tlrg/s1600/pouty.gif" title=""pouty face"" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I'm the dull girl that tags along, hoping
their popularity, charm and wit will rub off on me. (Ok.. NOW I'm
depressed).. </span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Not being the sharpest tool in the
shed, I'm not very quick with my answers. I usually think of the best
response to an offending remark when it is a bit too late (like when
the person has already left or moved on with the conversation). My
sister, on the other hand, has the ability to give quick, witty
comebacks at the drop of a hat and the best thing, she does it mixed
with her great sense of humor. </span></span></b>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If you want to have a war of words
with her, you better think twice as she will leave you in the dust.
She has also perfected the art of combining sarcasm and humor. So you
are left wondering “did she just insult me?” but when she has just said it
with a smile, you are left wonde<span style="font-size: large;">rin</span>g. The receiver of these are
usually those who have been mean to our parents, usually my mo<span style="font-size: large;">m</span>.
You mess with my mom and you<span style="font-size: large;">'</span>ll face my siblings' wrath.</span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhrkyOwM1lZjrVTkRzOT9OLmOpdWPCzNTMOTUaDResE1XgxYOh5AZsf9woebSSMN1s7mhjtYBa30SuMxz5_Ihsl1ShxldgFf1TT9eHWNXxaB-IuVnKRWEARUCKxv83uOloiM1VnVTO0Q/s1600/muisjelach.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=""laughing gif" "laughter" "funny gif" "funny animated" "animated jerry" "laughing jerry" "tom and jerry"" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhrkyOwM1lZjrVTkRzOT9OLmOpdWPCzNTMOTUaDResE1XgxYOh5AZsf9woebSSMN1s7mhjtYBa30SuMxz5_Ihsl1ShxldgFf1TT9eHWNXxaB-IuVnKRWEARUCKxv83uOloiM1VnVTO0Q/s1600/muisjelach.gif" title=""laugh"" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">When it comes to holidays or just
hanging out, my family is the best as it's usually a laugh
fest when I'm with them. First my mom will say something funny, then
my brother will have a funny rejoinder to that and then my sister
will parry with a hilarious retort of her own. </span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Me? I just enjoy their
“roll on the floor </span></span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMX0RhN8YNeg3uB1MM7lcQzaR-cShgw3xE7xchZrrpnx91FxqLUwpqDvII8iW_smv-fjP1uOU43YZlIc-65tTuGPblS3OcMZw-sRoH4FNuMC7ijJOdubBBcgWSvIdBhEKzLCR1BDOy1g/s1600/laughing.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""laughing so hard" "animated smiley" "laughing smiley gif" "laugh animated smiley" "laugh gif"" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMX0RhN8YNeg3uB1MM7lcQzaR-cShgw3xE7xchZrrpnx91FxqLUwpqDvII8iW_smv-fjP1uOU43YZlIc-65tTuGPblS3OcMZw-sRoH4FNuMC7ijJOdubBBcgWSvIdBhEKzLCR1BDOy1g/s1600/laughing.gif" title=""roll on the floor laughing"" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">laughing or I'm laughing so hard, I can't
control my bladder, please stop” conversations. </span></span></b>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></b>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg07fnd1a66b3RO5EYNMOW79havfCNwyOC7ceBCyLX_kxkHV3HNsjdJGf3g1IrvV4RgZxXmkuDwY2EqYxjCcFYpyYrJrcp4kQKdMB0UBt_lzYR5lMWq9g22ATK770clorAAATUWObwYaA/s1600/You're+the+Best.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=""animated smiley" "animated gif" "smiley gif" "You're the best smiley"" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg07fnd1a66b3RO5EYNMOW79havfCNwyOC7ceBCyLX_kxkHV3HNsjdJGf3g1IrvV4RgZxXmkuDwY2EqYxjCcFYpyYrJrcp4kQKdMB0UBt_lzYR5lMWq9g22ATK770clorAAATUWObwYaA/s1600/You're+the+Best.gif" title=""you're the best"" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Despite
our differences, personality-wise, my siste<span style="font-size: large;">r </span>and I do have common
ground and I believe we get along pretty well. Perhaps w</span>hen we
were younger, we were not as chummy as we should be. </span></span></b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0ZngzJK5pXYDtco39QALUPlq4ctVITTBQ0IAQOfVbmznTTtGecJ385-1L4s-YXhzgNiPTga7rv4vOwGCMov-pmmkZOXqQNSRjafA1EYk1ZuWc1_y4Z65wAZoc1Y2iwrzmakwYfadag/s1600/evil-smiley-face-5.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""fighting smiley" "fighting animated gif" "fight"" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0ZngzJK5pXYDtco39QALUPlq4ctVITTBQ0IAQOfVbmznTTtGecJ385-1L4s-YXhzgNiPTga7rv4vOwGCMov-pmmkZOXqQNSRjafA1EYk1ZuWc1_y4Z65wAZoc1Y2iwrzmakwYfadag/s1600/evil-smiley-face-5.gif" title=""fighting"" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We used to fight
as I believe all sisters, when they are near the same age, tend to
do. I would like to think that now we are older and wiser, we have
grown closer. We share the same taste in music and movies. Drool over
the same HOT GUYS and can spend hours talking about the said HOT GUYS
while my brother <span style="font-size: large;">rolls </span>his eyes and mutters things<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> with the gist of it being </span></span>“insanely sick sisters”. We usually just ignore him. </span></span></b></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I wish now though that things had
been different when we were younger. There are many mistakes I did
when dealing with my sister during my younger days, that I sincerely
regret and wish I could take back. I was NOT the best sister in the
world and I recall many cringe-worthy and mean things I had done and
said. Cliché as it may seem, I wish I could turn back time. There is
no "rewind", "edit" and "delete" button in our lives. I wish there was as
there are many things I wish I could have done differently. Just hope
my sister realizes that I am sorry for all those hurtful things I had
said and done and that I would take it back in a heartbeat if I
could. </span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Things were different with my
brother. Born 12 years apart from me and 8 years apart from my
sister, we were older and thus protective of him. He was like our
baby. Not only since we had baby-sitting duties but also because we
were older and he was like this little thing we needed to protect.
(Reading this, my brother would probably shudder at the term “little
thing”, though when he towers over you, the entire 6ft of him,
“little” is probably not the word to be used to describe him).</span></span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">My sister is definitely the
protective kind. Very protective of my brother<span style="font-size: large;">, from the time he was born</span>.
Even now, when he is already 21, the protective side </span></span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1b7NKc5vgJppsCllYp66xDVXSRD-LB16Px5SOGidDjqqnSfIMgcfUedOpKvTdpqeNO8rURQERc8QrCJi133FpLeWdPHC9a845oTsEErk2SuwdRzG5WPHUkrySQuMNHOWTXIvX_lc8gA/s1600/lifting+eyebrows.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""animated gif" "Animated smiley" "lift eyes smiley"" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1b7NKc5vgJppsCllYp66xDVXSRD-LB16Px5SOGidDjqqnSfIMgcfUedOpKvTdpqeNO8rURQERc8QrCJi133FpLeWdPHC9a845oTsEErk2SuwdRzG5WPHUkrySQuMNHOWTXIvX_lc8gA/s1600/lifting+eyebrows.gif" title=""lifting eyes"" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">of her hasn't
diminished. She still has the tendency to check up on him and make
sure he's not in any trouble or getting intro trouble. </span></span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Not exactly something he <span style="font-size: large;">is entire<span style="font-size: large;">l<span style="font-size: large;">y</span> grateful for<span style="font-size: large;">, <span style="font-size: large;">I have to admi<span style="font-size: large;">t</span></span>. </span></span></span></span></span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">My
sister was the neighborhood protector when she was in her teens. When
my young brother and his friends were bullied by<span style="font-size: large;"> kid<span style="font-size: large;">s, year<span style="font-size: large;">s </span></span></span>older <span style="font-size: large;">th<span style="font-size: large;">an <span style="font-size: large;">them</span></span></span>, they
will r<span style="font-size: large;">us<span style="font-size: large;">h</span> home, calling <span style="font-size: large;">for my </span></span>sister and she will go out, rolling up her sleeves, ready to fight with any guy
bold enough to mess with her baby brother and his friends. That bully may have
been older, bigger and stronger than her but she didn't give them a
thought. She went out fighting; “Nobody. Nobody messes with my
brother!” was her catch-phrase. </span></span></b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoK7gSdmJHVd-8dCk9W89lRpGpoBirbg8MY2_S-pkXzL0mC2k3rF2CgVqy-JpSy-lglwBsqF55dDEX0ernK41nchw5yCA2HJPbrF5ZF2SvxFcqXIgQuMKkl98HCIaiEqCWMexdXSIQZw/s1600/273977bxn9kdxkdm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""warrior" "warrior anime" " border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoK7gSdmJHVd-8dCk9W89lRpGpoBirbg8MY2_S-pkXzL0mC2k3rF2CgVqy-JpSy-lglwBsqF55dDEX0ernK41nchw5yCA2HJPbrF5ZF2SvxFcqXIgQuMKkl98HCIaiEqCWMexdXSIQZw/s200/273977bxn9kdxkdm.jpg" title=""warrior princess"" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image Source : <a href="http://sl.glitter-graphics.net/pub/273/273977bxn9kdxkdm.jpg" target="_blank">http://glitter-graphics.net/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She was the neighborhood warrior. </span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Any young kids being bullied, they'll come a calling to my house
“Premmaaaa Akkkkkaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Prema Akkaaaaaaaaa. Help me please!
That guy is throwing stones at us/saying bad things to us/bullying
us/he slapped me/<span style="font-size: large;">"</span> and my sister will be all ready
for battle. It's kinda <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">ironical </span>to think that now, my <span style="font-size: large;">kid brother, all macho<span style="font-size: large;">, big and strong, is the one<span style="font-size: large;">, read<span style="font-size: large;">y to do battle for us. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">That
is my sister. She never tolerates injustice. She is the type, who is
ready to fight for her rights and the rights of those she loves. That
is the thing I like about my sister. She doesn't care who you are, if
you wrongly accuse of her something she didn't do, mess with her
family or you treat her badly, she's not going to take it lying down.
</span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Though
a fighter she may be, appearances can be deceiving as she is actually
a soft-hearted person in nature. </span></span></b><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNXVKoMZTxp9pYjQPyog2OujKgnDDwudd7JnfPI9xwjObwPoBTkNSnZ0GeTfpNbtB9PNBqvompIIiiDbm8T2D1a_VI55pUppwwVOE6w-MSOQ99Om21g7253wBuYqsbwF719A7xy19mg/s1600/cavalier-cavalier-king-charles-spaniel-cute-dog-puppy-Favim.com-446532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""puppy" "poor puppy"" border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZNXVKoMZTxp9pYjQPyog2OujKgnDDwudd7JnfPI9xwjObwPoBTkNSnZ0GeTfpNbtB9PNBqvompIIiiDbm8T2D1a_VI55pUppwwVOE6w-MSOQ99Om21g7253wBuYqsbwF719A7xy19mg/s320/cavalier-cavalier-king-charles-spaniel-cute-dog-puppy-Favim.com-446532.jpg" title=""Cute puppy"" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source : <a href="http://favim.com/image/446532/" target="_blank">http://favim.com/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I have seen her cry over poor
starving puppies on the street, ready to sacrifice her meal for that
puppy. Shedding tears when my parents or brother is injured, sick or
in trouble.</span></span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She's
generous with her time and money. When my mom got sick, she was ready
to take unpaid leave to care for my mother and grandmother. Offering
to send her hard-earned money for hiring someone to take care of my
90-year-old grandmother while my mother does her<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>surgery, even
if that money she <span style="font-size: large;">wa</span>s planning to send is way beyond her means.</span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">When
she gets a bonus instead of heading for the nearest shopping mall and
putting her cash down for a new skirt, shirt or bag, the first thing
she does is send the <span style="font-size: large;">mon<span style="font-size: large;">ey </span></span>to my brother, who is currently in his first year at college.
She buys a camera in a bidding auction and tells me that she is going to give <span style="font-size: large;">t</span>he camera to my young cousins as a present.</span></span></b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6xezi5hWKa0ii-zX9sf4txndLC13mFdcAM3Z4ik_OtyP3J9qUHbuUf6P9Oyc2GVFIBPE724MGkU1RV9lNmyJJoswLYGiZ2y56Ol12vVeoJlcqz8IjQU9GwUT6ex4GpaTIs_U6oHVDrw/s1600/Glitter+Fairy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""Glitter lady" "Glitter" "Fairy" "Fairy Gif"" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6xezi5hWKa0ii-zX9sf4txndLC13mFdcAM3Z4ik_OtyP3J9qUHbuUf6P9Oyc2GVFIBPE724MGkU1RV9lNmyJJoswLYGiZ2y56Ol12vVeoJlcqz8IjQU9GwUT6ex4GpaTIs_U6oHVDrw/s200/Glitter+Fairy.gif" title=""Glitter Fairy"" width="175" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source : <a href="http://www.glitter-graphics.com/" target="_blank">http://www.glitter-graphics.com/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She is our <span style="font-size: large;">secre<span style="font-size: large;">t </span></span>Santa, <span style="font-size: large;">Ok. Maybe not <span style="font-size: large;">so secre<span style="font-size: large;">t</span></span></span>. Or <span style="font-size: large;">our Fa<span style="font-size: large;">iry Godmother.</span></span>
Buying gifts for us when she comes home during the holidays. For
festivals such as Diwali or Christmas, she will get my parents, my
brother and me such awesome clothes. Clothes that fit us to a tee.
She has great taste in fashion, instinctively knowing if the clothes
are going to suit us. So when it comes to fashion advice, she is my
'go to girl'. </span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>She
is intelligent and hardworking. So much so that her former Boss, from her part-time stint wh<span style="font-size: large;">ile</span> she was waiting for her exam results, tells my
father when he runs into him of how good my sister was at her work
and that she will always have a job with him if she ever wants to
leave the big city and come back home to work.</b></span></span><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLt7_mzfDZnljYTo50hzVGocDXPKrOEUOi1xCIem47MJL4SyyHEFVF7ACgNOvqqtMrJMEDH-ZRyeMJyJMvtbo3wpOhc0Mk7KQSyFpyyV4IvqpyAWJE20r8Hmx5gtqgPfQGoYzWEsU_Ag/s1600/calvin-hobbes-050.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""Calvin and Hobbes" "Calvin animated" "Naughty Calvin" "Mischievous" "Kids" " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLt7_mzfDZnljYTo50hzVGocDXPKrOEUOi1xCIem47MJL4SyyHEFVF7ACgNOvqqtMrJMEDH-ZRyeMJyJMvtbo3wpOhc0Mk7KQSyFpyyV4IvqpyAWJE20r8Hmx5gtqgPfQGoYzWEsU_Ag/s1600/calvin-hobbes-050.gif" title=""Calvin"" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source : <a href="http://animated-gifs.org/" target="_blank">http://animated-gifs.org/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She
is great with the people around her. Coming up with ideas to make
family and friends feel they are special. She is great with children<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-size: large;">and they adore her </span>unlike <span style="font-size: large;">ME</span>, who<span style="font-size: large;"> scare away <span style="font-size: large;">children, heck, <span style="font-size: large;">they scare <span style="font-size: large;">m<span style="font-size: large;">e<span style="font-size: large;">! <span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </b><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQu-A6jVYf5CEIjvk7zskP5O5nGJMFxuRFeyWB7BR-hHjhJFf06xvpcfX_UlV1qnD0kEgNsv-q-x8CFD8AeCsJlzyzrGauzIAymmn_fdzj_LYvybRpZQlvIZrCgJUGQT2tKxfkRI6mA/s1600/calvin-hobbes-067.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""Calvin and Hobbes" "Teacher" "Calvin Student" "animated Calvin" "Naughty Student" "Teacher animated" "Teacher"" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQu-A6jVYf5CEIjvk7zskP5O5nGJMFxuRFeyWB7BR-hHjhJFf06xvpcfX_UlV1qnD0kEgNsv-q-x8CFD8AeCsJlzyzrGauzIAymmn_fdzj_LYvybRpZQlvIZrCgJUGQT2tKxfkRI6mA/s1600/calvin-hobbes-067.gif" title=""Calvin"" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source : <a href="http://animated-gifs.org/" target="_blank">http://animated-gifs.org/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She used to give free English classes to a few underprivileged kids
as part of the charity drive organized by my father. She was a hit
during those classes, with some of her “former students” still
remembering her many years later. I guess she got those outstanding
teaching genes from my mo<span style="font-size: large;">m</span>, who has always been an extraordinarily
gifted teacher. </span></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></span>
</b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She
is passionate about movies, songs, anything entertainment related,
with facts at her fingertips. If she ever took part in the Cash Cab,
she will probably make a killing. Unless we are hit with pesky
Geography related questions but it would be fine as we have our
mom<span style="font-size: large;">,</span> to help us out with that. Then for </span></span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1HV9fnA5rObpXWUeukjzEQTfQC9uz4mX7DNQKBSpdsRT6MLwDdvHzlablRrKvb0bHt5VhQ2R4nDje6tyC1hyphenhyphenFxgPKghaoqOozsvYxrOgQCgsvgOXdQOxoerS5pcynN1hNRhwPmxwVw/s1600/1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic1HV9fnA5rObpXWUeukjzEQTfQC9uz4mX7DNQKBSpdsRT6MLwDdvHzlablRrKvb0bHt5VhQ2R4nDje6tyC1hyphenhyphenFxgPKghaoqOozsvYxrOgQCgsvgOXdQOxoerS5pcynN1hNRhwPmxwVw/s320/1.png" width="224" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">History and car-related
questions, there's my brother. </span></span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">(Yeah. I'm so not getting into that
Cash Cab<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>with my family. </span></span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I will just stare at all the questions with
my mouth hanging open, not knowing a single answer.<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Unless we get hit
with an Adam Lambert related question, then I could be of service
there. What can I say, <span style="font-size: large;">"<span style="font-size: large;">It's a Glambert thing!"</span></span>). </span></span></b><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqolNFpRftLjxt8f5BbpTN-5E2qlOjC7CaIFczkCFqABYL2H-2rgQ76GBD-zDuQUsy0POGgI6M7Vz6tk4zBLVr_8uwrLweXJoxMhP1dMQSxD2jswimrHpA86vp6dHQ28aYaMckiH_v8A/s1600/Cash+Cab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt=""Cash Cab Asia" "Oli Pettigrew"" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqolNFpRftLjxt8f5BbpTN-5E2qlOjC7CaIFczkCFqABYL2H-2rgQ76GBD-zDuQUsy0POGgI6M7Vz6tk4zBLVr_8uwrLweXJoxMhP1dMQSxD2jswimrHpA86vp6dHQ28aYaMckiH_v8A/s200/Cash+Cab.jpg" title=""Cash Cab"" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source : <a href="http://www.hersmagz.com/2011/page/15/" target="_blank">http://www.hersmagz.com/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">We are so planning to hunt down Oli Pettigrew and his Cash
Cab when we go to Singapore<span style="font-size: large;">. Oli<span style="font-size: large;">, you have<span style="font-size: large;"> been <span style="font-size: large;">forewarned. You can start getting scared now. Hide, I tell you.. H.I.D.E! </span></span></span></span></span></span> </b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She
has excessive knowledge about football or soccer as it is known in
America. Even stunning my father with her knowledge of the ins and
outs of the game. Most of the time I look at her like she's speaking
some foreign language, like French, German or something when she
starts talking about this person and that. The only football star I
know is David Beckham.. Yeah.. That's it.. So the rest of the names
just sound like gibberish to me. </span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></b>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Which
is why it is great that she found a guy, who share<span style="font-size: large;">s the same passion; <span style="font-size: large;">a </span></span>football fanatic just like her. For my mom and me, it doesn't
matter who she chooses as her beau as long as she is happy. So to see
her with someone who understands her, shares similar passions, who is
good to her, makes her </span></span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmZY2cZM93fe7KbUWU9WyIhaaMc7LMGqB_iqDFmmx9fXFPyx_kqLoOVDK9d9Kq-rSwPqdrjr7_OLwXvvUFa0_dB3YBwLwiNp5MajxygvVnSbKQyeRMxRhoIEfy5MACbbTdF9zBoqrzQ/s1600/Last+Picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmZY2cZM93fe7KbUWU9WyIhaaMc7LMGqB_iqDFmmx9fXFPyx_kqLoOVDK9d9Kq-rSwPqdrjr7_OLwXvvUFa0_dB3YBwLwiNp5MajxygvVnSbKQyeRMxRhoIEfy5MACbbTdF9zBoqrzQ/s320/Last+Picture.jpg" width="320" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">happy and who is pleasant and helpful, is all
that we ever wanted for her and I am glad she found that. </span></span></b>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></b>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">My
wish for my sister is that she finds happiness in her chosen career.
That she will have joy all the days of her life. That she will not
worry about what people think or how difficult things may seem, she
should just reach for her dreams. Take a risk. Most importantly,
live life to the fullest. </span></span></b><br />
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Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-27983199193247245492012-07-18T21:55:00.000+08:002013-06-03T13:19:37.036+08:00My mom, Jacinta Ramayah<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyjDAZ-hnEleoNLJokNA-0G9YG6jkbbP-GKi4dy9aiWlL8jZyYZEqvzzrWaZKE2jO06KXo_9KMJMtsTsappLxBFYtNba8p_xjKb-t6PWgOWu8bcgLKDbsK3aU4Zb_PXuzAj0MDlirRZQ/s1600/Pic+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyjDAZ-hnEleoNLJokNA-0G9YG6jkbbP-GKi4dy9aiWlL8jZyYZEqvzzrWaZKE2jO06KXo_9KMJMtsTsappLxBFYtNba8p_xjKb-t6PWgOWu8bcgLKDbsK3aU4Zb_PXuzAj0MDlirRZQ/s320/Pic+1.jpg" width="460" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“I know how to do anything – I'm a mom” - Roseanne Barr</span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"> </span></b><br />
<br />
<b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">That statement best describes my mom. </span></b><br />
<b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">She does know how to do
everything. </span></b></div>
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<b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">She's our MacGyver, </span></b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjthd-OMopSlw6sLTefFn8xTFMOLrWNXlkPMZo8tZz9IeiCPR4QCwpHTjOxYZUhOozxaX3muQ4OhIS06Nt61nB7IZDivy4MRhEjX6qdTapzRJn9RPuFJxiIynBfYSIJgr5VOopMkcj5mA/s1600/macgyver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Mac, Richard Dean Anderson" border="0" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjthd-OMopSlw6sLTefFn8xTFMOLrWNXlkPMZo8tZz9IeiCPR4QCwpHTjOxYZUhOozxaX3muQ4OhIS06Nt61nB7IZDivy4MRhEjX6qdTapzRJn9RPuFJxiIynBfYSIJgr5VOopMkcj5mA/s200/macgyver.jpg" title="MacGyver" width="200" /></a><b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"> </span></b><br />
<b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">the one who comes up with innovative
ideas in fixing things at our home. If the neighbor's cat is driving
her mad by sneaking into our compound and constantly attacking her
plants and shoes, she comes up with a plan to foil that
darn cat, armed with a metal fence, some flowers and a stapler. </span></b><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiziCJX91OYi_wRDFDQnon2AudIdtpp1U7in6kW6yu-71WsA8BJfzuSTnmTGBCq7bVNi-hFtrV-Htbt7iwGOG8_N64tLVmZcS-xj9l9xRDbSpl4hwNyaEYMoD7470ltpJdJScXW47AUoQ/s1600/Flower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Arrangement, Wedding, Bouquet" border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiziCJX91OYi_wRDFDQnon2AudIdtpp1U7in6kW6yu-71WsA8BJfzuSTnmTGBCq7bVNi-hFtrV-Htbt7iwGOG8_N64tLVmZcS-xj9l9xRDbSpl4hwNyaEYMoD7470ltpJdJScXW47AUoQ/s200/Flower.jpg" title="Flower" width="200" /></a><b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">She's
already making plans to decorate the house with a flower arrangement
that will line the patio (I think it was something like that, I
spaced out when the discussion got too technical (I should say too creative) for my brain to
comprehend), for my sister's engagement event, which is like months
away </span></b><b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">(right??)</span></b><b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">. </span></b><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>She's the one we run to, screaming as if we had the devil at our
back, when we see a centipede and don't know what the heck to do with
it ("just crush it with your bathroom slippers", she says matter of factly, like it's
such a simple thing to do, while we look at her in horror. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>CRUSH. IT. WITH. OUR. BATHROOM. SLIPPERS! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>FAINT<img alt=""Photobucket" "Animated" "Gif" "Faint" "Fainting" "Shocked"" border="0" src="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/funny-smiley-3.gif" title=""Fainting Smiley"" />). </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqIPDOhhVnj3t2yDHu3gA9aGEhrb0mfWzcoh3NdeI-ZxPTzixgMQMRcw9_uGkcrAw9UK-mPT-EI4oU6_CLuFNLmlR3IOeVViL3WYJRDxjHqRQvGnkvmd9_lyh8qqN4E5sM7XAZHzwZDQ/s1600/amma.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqIPDOhhVnj3t2yDHu3gA9aGEhrb0mfWzcoh3NdeI-ZxPTzixgMQMRcw9_uGkcrAw9UK-mPT-EI4oU6_CLuFNLmlR3IOeVViL3WYJRDxjHqRQvGnkvmd9_lyh8qqN4E5sM7XAZHzwZDQ/s320/amma.bmp" width="145" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>In my mind, I can picture her resume looking something like this:</b></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>
<span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: orange;">Name</span> </span>: <span style="color: red;">Jacinta Ramayah</span></b></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>
<span style="color: purple;"><span style="color: orange;">Experience</span> </span>: <span style="color: red;"> </span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">1. Mother </span>(1979 – present) </b></span></div>
<div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>2. <span style="color: red;">Retired Senior Assistant/Teacher
</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>
<span style="color: orange;">Skills</span> :</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">1. </span><span style="color: red;">Storyteller</span>. She used to weave exciting stories for us; she still does actually (though nowadays I'm fully glued to my computer and don't really pay much attention)<img alt="Photobucket "Sorry" "Smiley" "animated" "cute" "gif"" border="0" src="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/sorry_smiley.gif" title="Sorry Smiley" />.</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBPCptGY8clk240Y48F-6xF9cssAK2mKCI7QitM50qKl9njstfLlRYIDdpagDoy3jkmI87-uMbDJupunWPM3bFJEvTkIcO4IANcY85gB0gKxOfKx0YY7zMFSR5p9OtViDuyBrU2m7W8Q/s1600/Birthday.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBPCptGY8clk240Y48F-6xF9cssAK2mKCI7QitM50qKl9njstfLlRYIDdpagDoy3jkmI87-uMbDJupunWPM3bFJEvTkIcO4IANcY85gB0gKxOfKx0YY7zMFSR5p9OtViDuyBrU2m7W8Q/s200/Birthday.bmp" width="144" /></a></div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">2. </span><span style="color: red;">Baker</span>. Even difficult to do doll cakes like this. Yeah, she actually did this cake, on her own, armed with a recipe book, lots of flour and butter and... and.... and.... hmm.. you know... cake stuff.</b></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">3. Walking Encyclopedia and Dictionary</span>. Her favorite hobby is reading
the dictionary (looking up words for Scrabble, so she says), so she
knows most of the words in the dictionary. "Walking Dictionary", was the moniker given by
</b></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>her colleagues in the school she used to teach and it describes her
to perfection. She does know everything!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>So nowadays, I don't need to read
the newspaper as she will tell me all the latest happenings and events. Earthquakes. Floods. Murders. You name it! Since her History and Geography </b></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>knowledge is out of this world (s</b></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>he has practically </b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOn2TiB88oSexG9YtTc2fCPLLcb6I4EZr81Uh6bItjN2ARcnkcbtXjD_YVSqBvG5kOE25CvtfHFqneYisKOZE6RiECqBCKzDSzSTTKkoGGSiPouh1MsGuiwl7OoIsjcALuXTXiz8kc9A/s1600/glacier.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""Mountains" "3D" "Wallpaper" "Beautiful" "Scenic" "Visual Paradox"" border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOn2TiB88oSexG9YtTc2fCPLLcb6I4EZr81Uh6bItjN2ARcnkcbtXjD_YVSqBvG5kOE25CvtfHFqneYisKOZE6RiECqBCKzDSzSTTKkoGGSiPouh1MsGuiwl7OoIsjcALuXTXiz8kc9A/s320/glacier.jpg" title="Glacier" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>memorized the entire World Map and knows every valley, mountain, river and can name places, I never even knew existed) so anything we don't know, we just turn to her and she will gladly give us a History or Geography lesson then and there. The best part is she makes it into a delightful story and not some boring lesson, that can make you slip into a coma. </b></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b></b></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b> </b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>She even
knows all the latest happenings in Hollywood, which leads to some
arguments when we disagree with her on certain facts. Thank Goodness
for the invention of the Internet, for when we tell her that her
facts are wrong, she will say “WAIT!” then goes to the computer <img alt="Photobucket computer typing smiley cute funny" border="0" src="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/msn-emoticon-nerd-007.gif" title="Smiley Typing" />
and Googles it (we really need to get her a blackberry), then points
at her findings and says “See! I told you!”.<span style="color: purple;"> </span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: purple;">(Moral of the story : Never
have a facts related argument with your mom, because most of the time, she's
right and you're so dead wrong!) </span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">4. Censorship Board.</span> She was the strictest of the strictest
Censorship Board, never allowing me to read Mills & Boons or
Sidney Sheldon till I was 18. </span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyRFFqO3GZyhxBkclfal1Ys0pKF-hgyGmN0XV7My82U9NVZKxRx9hZZ_Dco13ttLgu0XTwEwFYbqHqBmQsFTihP3ONzDizk-lZ2c6KS9jFcV7_P2uzkxzCxiCWZjXem-8GN9VPuPdNSA/s1600/Georgette+Heyer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="April Lady, Books" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyRFFqO3GZyhxBkclfal1Ys0pKF-hgyGmN0XV7My82U9NVZKxRx9hZZ_Dco13ttLgu0XTwEwFYbqHqBmQsFTihP3ONzDizk-lZ2c6KS9jFcV7_P2uzkxzCxiCWZjXem-8GN9VPuPdNSA/s400/Georgette+Heyer.jpg" title="Georgette Heyer" width="490" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">I was only allowed to read Georgette
Heyer as Heyer's books were clean and “did not have any descriptive
scenes”, my mom's favorite phrase to describe the love scenes in books. When
I hit 18, I excitedly read my first Mills & Boons and to my dismay, found it
to be boring as hell. So yeah, with my imaginary tail between my legs, I went back to Georgette Heyer, totally repentant. I guess a mother knows best. She
instinctively knew that romance books were not to her<span style="color: #a64d79;"> (spinster for life/nun)</span> daughter's taste.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">But it was from her that I inherited my love for books and now when we go on holidays,
the first place we look for and our first stop (to the horror of my siblings) is the bookshop and if we find one
having a sale, our trip is complete. Heck. Our life is complete. We'll spend the whole day at that bookshop (even through all the dirty looks <a href="http://zaazu.com/" target="_blank"><img alt=""mad", "dirty looks", " border="0" height="47" src="http://images.zaazu.com/img/male17-male-mad-angry-smiley-emoticon-000059-medium.gif" title=""angry smiley"" width="47" /></a>and grumbling sent our way by my siblings. But then again, it is due to love for our mother that they're willing to wait patiently albeit </span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">begrudgingly</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: black;">while their mother and oldest sister shop books to their hearts' content). Most of the time during holidays, all our shopping budget
will be spent on books (who needs a skirt or shirt, right? Ok. My colleagues will be like "Oh no wonder she wears the same shirt and skirt every week; her money is spent on books!" You're so right, peeps!)</span></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">5. Oldies Promoter</span>. She introduced us to the Oldies.
Singers, some people would probably go "WHO?". Which is why, I
was the odd one out in school, with my oldies instead of the latest
boybands (No regrets there. I would rather hear “The Young Ones”
instead of “Step by Step”). She introduced us to movies, actually
more like forced us to watch all those old movies, like "The Scarlet Pimpernel", “The
Champ”, “To Sir with Love” and many others, which we were
pleasantly surprised to find were actually good and enjoyable, though we would never admit it to her. Never admit it to her, face to face, I mean (Cue : Evil grin). </span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDsdHFLTWzdteMHqOfZvZxrCDD6-OQ8Aceaipeci17BjcJH8gj27svoUlpDNEThxxgGrI1NyqwAhKhl-_6FSBEKw-wL-ibek3IjSp022C07f7CdC4TyIjNb8qEWZq57AliKsFOXmyiYw/s1600/cliff_richard-the_definitive_love_album_a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Cliff Richard Album" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDsdHFLTWzdteMHqOfZvZxrCDD6-OQ8Aceaipeci17BjcJH8gj27svoUlpDNEThxxgGrI1NyqwAhKhl-_6FSBEKw-wL-ibek3IjSp022C07f7CdC4TyIjNb8qEWZq57AliKsFOXmyiYw/s1600/cliff_richard-the_definitive_love_album_a.jpg" title="Cliff Richard" /></a><b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">However, we were
not full converts. Cliff Richard, Elvis Presley, Bee Gees and
the Everly Brothers, we could handle and still do enjoy listening to
them but we drew the line at Jim Reeves and Harry Belafonte (we would
rather eat chalk. No offense to them. Maybe they work more for the
DNA of those born in </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrM62W1ruhYNVUe5_fROi9XqsgezzZ2DFoByDbSoeAAjGocryw9AWtFrf1rYQDRlw4eiskNp-2w3-4nBMiYP1daTymnqrYAPoa0zx5IaRBXjj58dYZ5QPaw6LyGA0Q-K7ew0HPYyC-yA/s1600/Rockn_Roll.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""Rock Smiley" "Rock and Roll Smiley" "Smiley" "Rockin Smiley" "Peace Smiley"" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrM62W1ruhYNVUe5_fROi9XqsgezzZ2DFoByDbSoeAAjGocryw9AWtFrf1rYQDRlw4eiskNp-2w3-4nBMiYP1daTymnqrYAPoa0zx5IaRBXjj58dYZ5QPaw6LyGA0Q-K7ew0HPYyC-yA/s1600/Rockn_Roll.jpg" title=""Rock and Roll"" /></a><b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">the 50s. We are more of the Rock and Roll <span id="goog_1883878762"></span><span id="goog_1883878763"></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a> </span></b><br />
<b style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">generation).</span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"> </span></span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">6. Poet. </span>She can write a poem in 1o minutes and these are not just any one stanza poems, they actually
rhyme and all and most of the time, a dictionary is needed in comprehending the vocabulary in these poems.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDaIf98QgDa6NlCkvpROUXiN0dQRENfVgP2CXALvcgf-p1sAD3IOiHv55-5oxrvxvNrASoSVrJSj2UWmeM-WJd1meDh5ze2vvM08hy1Bs_4fFQ25omrcKUVSfiFCS8ZfM10Slw8Zshw/s1600/Write.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Quill, poetry" border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDaIf98QgDa6NlCkvpROUXiN0dQRENfVgP2CXALvcgf-p1sAD3IOiHv55-5oxrvxvNrASoSVrJSj2UWmeM-WJd1meDh5ze2vvM08hy1Bs_4fFQ25omrcKUVSfiFCS8ZfM10Slw8Zshw/s200/Write.jpg" title="Write" width="200" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Some of the poems she has written has even
been used in general websites (with </b><b>acknowledgment to her) </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1F2-D9V-mEwLu2-e8dv2UzoJgCIc6JhlAg2SGKE4e1ECzXfXvnaLB4OHywF-xc8Ral1E5lOWWXJRrdztMjWG8fFdoqgWfTjkOJ8VQs7TBgC7KjbMv75LK1c3MBSkXYLNX6MNrJGMwpQ/s1600/Poetry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1F2-D9V-mEwLu2-e8dv2UzoJgCIc6JhlAg2SGKE4e1ECzXfXvnaLB4OHywF-xc8Ral1E5lOWWXJRrdztMjWG8fFdoqgWfTjkOJ8VQs7TBgC7KjbMv75LK1c3MBSkXYLNX6MNrJGMwpQ/s320/Poetry.jpg" width="225" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;">and she has won poetry writing competitions. At Voicesnet.com, she has a group of friends, whom she treasures, showering her with praise on the poems she has written. So that means, I guess, she must be good at it. Being an undutiful daughter, </span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;">most of the time she has to force me to read those poems, as I tell her, "poetry ain't my thing", while I secretly admire her and
wish I had her skills and </span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;">when she writes poems specially dedicated to us kids, </span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;">we're thrilled</span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;"> beyond words</span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;">.</span></b><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;"> </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">7. Rockstar.</span> She's the Rockstar
mom who enjoys all the latest movies and songs with us, who even goes to concerts with us. We have pleasant childhood memories of Monopoly and Poker
<img alt="Photobucket gif animated smiley" border="0" src="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/PokerSmiley.gif" title="Poker Smiley" /> game nights but when it comes to Scrabble, we always say “ESCAPE!”
when she brings out her scrabble board as she always ends up playing
scrabble with herself. </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-7CjuIixTwhBQbYef1S7_7jIR-8CW23XQ7TAAATaOlhhRdcYEn7u5aNQSMncBwt3xMgF4tHBkqCdadtTKhej8m8hFwa8QPKtbNO4YIsyutfRCz8JOmuAfUNxAMmmO8lQKyx7Rfaxiw/s1600/Scrabble.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-7CjuIixTwhBQbYef1S7_7jIR-8CW23XQ7TAAATaOlhhRdcYEn7u5aNQSMncBwt3xMgF4tHBkqCdadtTKhej8m8hFwa8QPKtbNO4YIsyutfRCz8JOmuAfUNxAMmmO8lQKyx7Rfaxiw/s200/Scrabble.jpg" title="Scrabble" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Herself, you might wonder. That is what it is
called when you end up making up the words for your children so that
they can get 50 points instead of the measly 5 points they were going
for with the word “the”. Her excuse when we complain "let us make
our own words while you handle your words" is “<span style="color: purple;">But you're wasting that
triple word score!</span>”. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>She's the computer games expert, shocking my
brother once when he got up at 3am to see her in front of the
computer, her eyes glued to the screen and her mind in full </b></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTk0I_ZMhYz64z1lfSdUBtB9piw4zW80q95LJwi1_GU9IqRNxul1bB2mec62DW3qRiJYOCqy4CupSVXDj-Z55oXDngfQjMzkf-P0qbDy701QQQ21AY8NH9J8ScHlNMfL6l4AA4cW0VZA/s1600/mickey_mouse_whistling_wallpaper_-_800x600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""whistling" "Mickey Mouse" "Cartoon"" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTk0I_ZMhYz64z1lfSdUBtB9piw4zW80q95LJwi1_GU9IqRNxul1bB2mec62DW3qRiJYOCqy4CupSVXDj-Z55oXDngfQjMzkf-P0qbDy701QQQ21AY8NH9J8ScHlNMfL6l4AA4cW0VZA/s200/mickey_mouse_whistling_wallpaper_-_800x600.jpg" title=""whistle"" width="176" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>concentration of the Zuma game. She's an awesome whistler, having
whistling competitions with my brother, while my sister and I look at
them with envy, wishing we too could whistle. </b></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">8. Chef.</span> My mom loves cooking and comes up with interesting restaurant-worthy cuisines to the delight of her children and sometimes their friends. Which is
why, her children can only lose weight when they leave home (I agree with you, I SO
need to leave home!). She loves cooking for her younger brothers'
</b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>(Uncle Majilla and Uncle Jude) </b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>family</b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>. Delighting in throwing parties, cooking and sending dishes over to them. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>For Christmas <img alt="Photobucket, gif, "Season's Greetings"" border="0" src="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/ChristmasSmiley.gif" title="Christmas Smiley" />last year, she spent the whole month,
thinking of the</b></span><img alt="Photobucket "animated" "Santa" "Ho Ho Ho" " border="0" src="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/christmas-smileys-7.gif" title="Christmas gif" /><span style="font-size: large;"><b> Christmas Eve meal she was planning to prepare for family and friends. She was looking forward to her youngest brother, Uncle Jude's children coming over for Christmas as
she knew his children would love to participate in the whole
cooking process. I guess we're too grown up for her and we don't get
excited over cooking and baking as we used to when we were young and since we haven't given
her any grandchildren (not planning to do anything about this... like ever..), the pleasure her young niece and nephews have
for her cooking, especially in wanting to get involved in the cooking
process, fills her with pleasure. That is essentially the type of person she is, gaining pleasure not from accumulating accolades but from doing simple things to make her family and friends happy.</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">“[A]
mother is one to whom you hurry when you are troubled.” - Emily
Dickinson </span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">When we were in school and the math questions were turning us into
brain dead zombies<img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/36_1_5.gif" />, our mom is the one we hurried to. She will look
at the math question and tell us gleefully, “I LOVE MATH!” and
promptly solve the question for us. Her favorite subjects were
Geography, Mathematics, History, heck, I think every subject was her
favorite. </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">“I love school” is her catch-phrase. Some of you might have heart palpitations (like ME!) with this statement but my mom did literally love school. I am not sure if she was saying this to her children as a form of psychology manipulation that moms are gifted with, hoping to get us children interested in studying (yeah. It didn't work!) or if she really meant it.</span></b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4k0L9lPNQOkwr6T_yyRYObstRbBcWtVBw0zvdvvHGRreFS47Y2w_XrW2lELoVVTHOsqDAGJP0uAG0fw9kmYpAJdywfF8IyZIlM2We75b9OODvyS_OlWEOO6ng0UgDypC5j78_gcC0aA/s1600/Amma+child.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4k0L9lPNQOkwr6T_yyRYObstRbBcWtVBw0zvdvvHGRreFS47Y2w_XrW2lELoVVTHOsqDAGJP0uAG0fw9kmYpAJdywfF8IyZIlM2We75b9OODvyS_OlWEOO6ng0UgDypC5j78_gcC0aA/s320/Amma+child.bmp" width="219" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">However, I remember our grandmother telling us
with pride that when my mom was younger, she was never away from her
books. Even when she was eating, she had the book on the table, in
front of her. When we asked my mom to explain herself and this anomaly, her reply was “Eating was boring, so at least with a book, it was less boring”. That is our mom. She never missed a day
of school, crying miserably, the one time she was sick and had to cut
school (so said my grandmother).</span> </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Which is why, I guess, she reacts with
horror <img alt="Photobucket "React with horror" "Surprised" "animated" "gif"" border="0" src="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/Surprised-large.gif" title="Shocked Smiley" />anytime we tell her we want to take a day off from school or work. The expression on her face is like we just told her “Mama,
I just killed a man, Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger
now he's dead” (Yeah I was just listening to Queen's <i><span style="font-style: normal;">"Bohemian
Rhapsody” performed by Adam Lambert while writing this.... so yeah..... now you know. TMI? Yeah. My blog posts are filled with TMIs.)</span></i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOg0P7lbq4_iqb6UW6rhTtC7Y3NhqR90GZMQ7Yrgy9kS4HGcEMaCMhUJEcjb3nnySsaiRa4RhGbYFwFTiLtFiI69ffTx_ahS8W-svA-XvrieYHePlgS04yjBWpkc8kUP_dU_LUMvHew/s1600/amma+4.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrOg0P7lbq4_iqb6UW6rhTtC7Y3NhqR90GZMQ7Yrgy9kS4HGcEMaCMhUJEcjb3nnySsaiRa4RhGbYFwFTiLtFiI69ffTx_ahS8W-svA-XvrieYHePlgS04yjBWpkc8kUP_dU_LUMvHew/s320/amma+4.bmp" width="89" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;">With
someone who loves school so much, is it any wonder she became a
teacher. For 35 years, 10 years of that, teaching the
hearing-impaired students. The best thing is that years later, many of her students, who now have children of their own, still remember her. </span></i></b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;">The guy at the bank. The lady at the hospital. All having the courtesy to acknowledge her and wish her well. The burger guy calls her "Teacher" and says he will do the burger "Special" only for her. </span></i></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3XzyhfvPkohIHBLhefZQVm-8vUfkEgyDlZ-7hMh-HXakJQ0Og1FiLObrCDjSWzzvq_6eq6TCbz_1jPLuq2F0DzEXnUro42I2Coig5OBA-Q-ieTUr2a6Dw3u3mQLYTc57CMeAxgrkug/s1600/Char_kway_teow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""char kway teow" "delicious" "Malaysian food" "Chinese"" border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_3XzyhfvPkohIHBLhefZQVm-8vUfkEgyDlZ-7hMh-HXakJQ0Og1FiLObrCDjSWzzvq_6eq6TCbz_1jPLuq2F0DzEXnUro42I2Coig5OBA-Q-ieTUr2a6Dw3u3mQLYTc57CMeAxgrkug/s200/Char_kway_teow.jpg" title="kway teow" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;">The kway teow guy in the midst of frying the kway teow, reminisces on some of her teaching techniques. "Some of the best English lessons ever!", he vehemently says. </span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;">However, for her, the best time she ever had was teaching the hearing-impaired students. They had no pretense, always honest to a fault, telling it as it is. If they like you, they like you. If they don't, then heaven help you. Years after she has taught them, they have never forgotten her. Sending her wedding invitations. Taking the trouble to visit her, 20 years after she had taught them. Screaming “Teacher” loudly from across the road (they cannot hear so they do not
realize how loud their screams are), sometimes causing massive jams
but definitely touching our hearts when they tell her in their own language, the sign language, how much
they miss her. I don't
remember my teachers in school (some I don't even want to remember. shudder)
so I will never think of acknowledging any I meet on the street, except for one or two, I guess, </span></i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;">but
for my mom's students to actually acknowledge her, more than 20, 30 years after she has taught </span></i></b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRT_gSO-kXyCmWYVw4AlLBFp-h4Es_HNWoqdP03Rc1g1nbIjea1BlVBO-4DZ87tyI1Yh74dSFitr-uK6r7FaELFL4u6XMNY593B3BfcKnpsZjiOhHra8AHQhMm3jx1InbUkthZnpf2Bg/s1600/eruption.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=""Erupting" "Volcano" "Visual Paradox" "3D"" border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRT_gSO-kXyCmWYVw4AlLBFp-h4Es_HNWoqdP03Rc1g1nbIjea1BlVBO-4DZ87tyI1Yh74dSFitr-uK6r7FaELFL4u6XMNY593B3BfcKnpsZjiOhHra8AHQhMm3jx1InbUkthZnpf2Bg/s320/eruption.jpg" title="Volcano Eruption" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;">them is a testament of the impact she made on them.</span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;">She definitely enjoyed teaching and was a good teacher. Working late into the night to come up with teaching aids to make her lesson interesting as well as get her information across. </span></i></b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;">Charts, graphs even creating a volcano for her Geography
lesson. </span></i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGCYkNUClYIxCI1DGQ31uNRSTCG38LPpUdnR7pOiTycUXdvdkt8FrSU4hYVeINdZjg0UV46R3ivBez_LPiZ-3plssVBWsILP21-WoOroznUrAWVlmkTe9joZgBFTATyqDqPbnyk6L1A/s1600/ID-10061402.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""Delicious" "Tasty" "Chicken Club Sandwich"" border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwGCYkNUClYIxCI1DGQ31uNRSTCG38LPpUdnR7pOiTycUXdvdkt8FrSU4hYVeINdZjg0UV46R3ivBez_LPiZ-3plssVBWsILP21-WoOroznUrAWVlmkTe9joZgBFTATyqDqPbnyk6L1A/s320/ID-10061402.jpg" title="Sandwiches" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;">Buying bread, eggs, tuna and so on to make sandwiches with her students for her English class lesson and recording songs to be used during her English lesson on Grammar.</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">"A
mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for
five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie." -
Tenneva Jordan </span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Our
mom willingly sacrifices anything for those she loves.
She gave up an offer to do her Form 6 in College, as she needed to
start working and support her mom and younger siblings. Then after
getting her hearing-impaired teaching certificate qualifications, she
was offered the chance to do her degree but she rejected the offer as
it </span></span></span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">would take 2 years and we, her young kids at home, were missing
her terribly. Heck. Even now, when she's away from home, we're like a cat, who has lost its tail (I seriously don't know how I come up with these comparisons; they don't make sense to me either), going about life aimlessly, missing her terribly.</span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">With
no transportation when we were young, she used to walk for miles and
miles. Carrying me in one arm, while she was pregnant with my sister,
walking to her hospital appointment. When she was pregnant with my
brother at 36, she used to walk to my grandmother's house then from
there, catch the bus for church. Which is why for her, the car </span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KqVGYcVjtKAwTp5BfFOrXAVV-_PPYC7ELzaRleYCZO0sVPCz3KmBb28iEwaeAtMKYggFLtYxzUB4X4CShFPaOwipfZrexMPFICNp1t1m7gUbrR1RRkLRB2-T0ESb9yBbbofxiuf80g/s1600/Car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Proton" border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KqVGYcVjtKAwTp5BfFOrXAVV-_PPYC7ELzaRleYCZO0sVPCz3KmBb28iEwaeAtMKYggFLtYxzUB4X4CShFPaOwipfZrexMPFICNp1t1m7gUbrR1RRkLRB2-T0ESb9yBbbofxiuf80g/s320/Car.jpg" title="Car" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">is
the greatest invention on the planet and the thought that she now owns her own car
and has the ability to drive it anywhere she wants, is joy beyond words. When she sees strangers waiting at the
bus-stop, especially if they are going to the hospital, she stops and
gives them a lift, no matter how far the place is, saying "I know what it is like not to have your own transport".</span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">When
she was diagnosed with cancer, instead of lamenting and bemoaning her fate, she took it all in stride and spent her time comforting us, downplaying the situation so we won't
worry. For us kids, she's a superhero. A supermom, going for her </span></span></span></i></b></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwfwJFuqtCJPFUtCKvJDib3B_ZHmTHGBk-WPgwHt-vQt36SEKkhOtqk8aY1gJBqHtoIKs5qNpKqE8Ppu8zJ1lsWJW-jRycIRGe6d0_TZSNvRGzW2OjzFo3t1VUTWQHqmMpvofM0dOa8A/s1600/chemotherapy-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt=""Chemo drugs" "medicine"" border="0" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwfwJFuqtCJPFUtCKvJDib3B_ZHmTHGBk-WPgwHt-vQt36SEKkhOtqk8aY1gJBqHtoIKs5qNpKqE8Ppu8zJ1lsWJW-jRycIRGe6d0_TZSNvRGzW2OjzFo3t1VUTWQHqmMpvofM0dOa8A/s200/chemotherapy-2.jpg" title=""Chemo"" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">chemotherapy, then instead of lying prostrate in bed recovering from the torturous, nausea-inducing chemo regiment, she would finish her chemo treatment, then come home and see to the needs of her
ailing 88-year old mother. She never felt any anger towards her siblings for not offering to take care of
their mother while she completes her chemotherapy. All she had to say to us is "It's fine. I can do it. I'm still
ok. It's just chemo. It's not that bad". </span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">When she begged her sister to take
care of her mother for a month while she goes through radiotherapy
and her sister slammed the phone down on her saying "It's your
duty!", she just shrugged it off and said "It's ok. My
sister must be having a bad day. Can you children take care of your </span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">grandmother while I go away for a month for my radiotherapy?". Not realizing, we, her children, loved her deeply and would do anything for her (you know, the whole catch a grenade for her, kinda of thing). </span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">She
took care of her mother-in-law for my father and now she takes care
of her mother. Doing it with a smile even though hitting 90 now, my
grandmother can be difficult sometimes. When my grandmother throws a
tantrum as she tends to do, a lot, my mom remembers the good times when my grandmother was at her prime.</span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">She is the forgive and forget kinda of person. We are the ones who are ready to make war </span></span></span></i></b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">with people who treat her like crap </span></span></span></i></b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">(along the lines of "I'm gonna give them a piece of my mind, punch them in their face" <img alt="http://zaazu.com "Punching" "Smiley" "Punch in the face" "Knockout" "Animated Smiley"" border="0" height="96" src="http://images.zaazu.com/img/tko-boxing-boxer-athlete-smiley-emoticon-000579-medium.gif" title="Punching Smiley" width="107" />. I've always been a peaceful girl but some people just bring out the blood lust in me)</span></span></span></i><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">.</span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">Some people have always been there for my mother. I remember my father's sister, Aunty Loga, who wept during my mother's cancer treatment, saying "She took care of my mother not like a daughter-in-law but like a daughter, bathing my mother, feeding her, now that she's sick, there's nothing I can do for her". My aunt wanted to stay and take care of my mom after my </span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4QcK6dv3VuPWeLf5wwUe3ZWCsWT6JtHe2O0O_F_WnaaidahIa_mChpMwvm7UhtsfWMs6VrsLjWpvkuacMo7E5CLqzEPwHhuJkUD5ADQ_B5pea_Tc7yxbwgXLm-fuA4D16dvQXvvMpQ/s1600/Chemotherapy+drugs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""chemo"" border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh4QcK6dv3VuPWeLf5wwUe3ZWCsWT6JtHe2O0O_F_WnaaidahIa_mChpMwvm7UhtsfWMs6VrsLjWpvkuacMo7E5CLqzEPwHhuJkUD5ADQ_B5pea_Tc7yxbwgXLm-fuA4D16dvQXvvMpQ/s200/Chemotherapy+drugs.jpg" title=""cancer'" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">mom's surgery and during her chemo, but thought it would be more of a bother instead of help and so refrained. However, for us, it's the thought that counts and we're grateful for that. My father's siblings took the trouble to catch the bus and come all the way to be there for my mom during her surgery, calling almost every day for an update on the progress of her health during her chemo. Then there's Aunty Sundari, my mom's younger brother's wife, who is always there to lend a ear to my mom's frustration when the burden of solely caring for my grandmother gets too much. </span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">So that is why our mom is our inspiration. I know I cannot be like her. I cannot easily forgive and forget and when it comes to my mom, you mess with her and I will hold a grudge against you for the rest of my life. No forgiveness or nice words for you, buster! You can smile and spew sweet words but hatred will be all I feel. I don't think I'm a quarrelsome person, but when it comes to my mom, I am </span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSiagF93A3WsLxfTchcDu6FIr9J7oqd6_gCtoMgXw3jy8LNgXRvc0etEmpRTOf4TXGKwDfRe_zjPbR6XpvjBb-TKWSKMf-_-R6nfGRwrLcfhdsIeZWQ5jRiPqRzIMzDOUqqzjE0uZEPg/s1600/dragon-slayer-wallpaper-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt=""Slay the dragon" "Dragon Slayer" "Wallpaper" "Medieval Graphic"" border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSiagF93A3WsLxfTchcDu6FIr9J7oqd6_gCtoMgXw3jy8LNgXRvc0etEmpRTOf4TXGKwDfRe_zjPbR6XpvjBb-TKWSKMf-_-R6nfGRwrLcfhdsIeZWQ5jRiPqRzIMzDOUqqzjE0uZEPg/s320/dragon-slayer-wallpaper-1.jpg" title="Dragonslayer" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">always ready for battle (Slay the dragon kind of battle! YEAH!) On the other hand, you do a good deed or have some kind words for my mom, and you will have my eternal and undying gratitude.</span></span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">My mom inspires me with her strength and perseverance. No matter what difficulties she faces or what obstacles are thrown her way, she is never disheartened but faces everything with optimism and cheerfulness. She has an enduring faith in God, never blaming Him for her misfortunes and illness but thanking Him when she is blessed with good fortune. She has a kind heart, always ready to help her family, friends and even strangers she meets on the street. </span></span></span></i></b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>“<span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">My
mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed
it.” - Mark Twain</span></span></i><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">We
are not the greatest of children (I wonder if my siblings will be
rolling their eyes and saying “Speak for yourself!”) but we do
strive to make her proud. We haven't really achieved anything
pride-worthy (I know I haven't) but we hope deep down, she is happy and proud of us (and doesn't wish she had some other children as her own..) </span></span></i></b></span>
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<a href="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/ConfessingSmiley.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Photobucket "Confess" "Apologize" "Sorry" "Smiley" "Animated" "gif" "guilty" "Did something wrong" "Sorry Ma"" border="0" src="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/ConfessingSmiley.gif" title="Apologizing Smiley" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">We
are the type of children, who even though we know we have done
something wrong, we will still not be able to keep anything from our mom.
We'll confess our deepest darkest secret to her, fully expecting a
scolding but just relieved to get it out in the open. </span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I am not perfect and tend to sometimes say hurtful things I don't mean but I hope my mom realizes that she will always be the most important thing in my life and whatever I say or do is done out of love. </span></span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">“God
could not be everywhere, so he created mothers.” - Jewish Proverb </span></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent;">I do not know how my mom feels about me but I know I'm truly blessed to have
her as my mother.</span></span></span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">The greatest
blessing in the world is to have a mother who's your best friend. To
me, my mother will always be my best friend. Though I don't
really say this out loud (I'm not much of the hugging type of person or a person, whom the verbal words “I love you” comes easily) but I do love you, ma. I may not say it in words but I hope I say it in my actions. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Thanks for always being our inspiration, for filling us with pride on your achievements, talents and skills, for giving us a memorable childhood (we did not have much, monetary wise, but we had lots of joy and happy memories) and for making us proud to call you, our mother. We're truly blessed to have you in our lives.</span></b><br />
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Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-44647915036241679082012-06-10T12:16:00.001+08:002021-01-23T08:53:14.709+08:00My brother, Rueben<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv1tqMHwLSWdN3xMZ7bB3g6hDPJWZDlua1usYqK2m2kUV7OfjTuTFRRa-vZD6UH2aXbH-AC5bwekPZeS56KLl-OtY0KdNZfkR1drPXqjc0R4EmBbQUlUTml-9Q_6C2RdaUSPiU1xut8A/s1600/Birthday+Pic+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv1tqMHwLSWdN3xMZ7bB3g6hDPJWZDlua1usYqK2m2kUV7OfjTuTFRRa-vZD6UH2aXbH-AC5bwekPZeS56KLl-OtY0KdNZfkR1drPXqjc0R4EmBbQUlUTml-9Q_6C2RdaUSPiU1xut8A/s400/Birthday+Pic+1.jpg" width="490" /></a></div>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I
was 12 when my brother was born. When my mom first checked with
the doctor, she was told that she was having a girl. With two
girls, one 12 and the other 8, at home, my parents did not exactly say they were disappointed but we knew that a boy would have been more welcomed. A complete
trio. Furthermore, my mother was already 36 at that time, so to try for a fourth child, would probably have been out of the question for her. </span></span></span></b></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">S</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">o
imagine our surprise, when we got a brother instead. My
mom always says that she feels my brother was a gift from
God as he was totally unexpected but has fulfilled her every
expectations.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> I
remember the pride on my father's face when he came home from the
hospital, proudly announcing “It's a boy!”. </span></span></span><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></span></span></b></span></h3>
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<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The
first moment I laid eyes on my brother, I was shocked at how tiny he
was. A quiet baby, that didn't cry much, who looked at you in wonder and seemed to enjoy the prospect of sleeping. His eyes were
huge, taking in the scenes around him, twisting his head to get a
clearer picture of his surroundings. He was so little and cute, it
was love at first sight for me.</span></span></span></b><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">My
brother was an easy, pleasant baby. No loud screaming cries from him.
It was just short whimpers when he wanted milk or a change of
diapers. He was so quiet that our neighbors used to ask if we really
had a baby in the house, as they could not hear any wailing as would have been expected from a newborn baby. I wonder if they realize that he makes up for that lack of noise in the early days of his life, by blasting all the rock songs nowadays. Sorry neighbors, you did ask why he was so quiet when he was a baby, well he's making up for it now.</span></span></b></span></span></h3><h3 style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://grist.org/climate-energy/awesome-animated-gif-of-a-supercell-thunderstorm-makes-severe-weather-look-mesmerizing/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="261" data-original-width="465" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yIGwkGap5HM/YAtzYHbnbxI/AAAAAAAAJ40/ixkWeupGvmMpDIH5AfcFI7Yg59hXcicUACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Thunderstorm.gif" width="320" /></a></div></span></span></b></span></span></h3><h3 style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">He was the kind of baby who slept through thunderstorms. I particularly remember one violent storm. There was my
mom rushing to my brother, thinking the loud blast of thunder would scare her poor baby, but that baby did not stir at all. He continued sleeping peacefully through it all, not a worry in the world.</span></span></b></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Most babies need to be rocked to sleep. Not my brother. He didn't even need a cradle. Just put him on the bed and he will <a name='more'></a>go right off to sleep. I used to love rocking him in my arms, singing lullabies to him, while he slept. Now though, I blame my terrible singing (more of caterwauling actually) to him falling asleep so quickly. "What is that awful noise. Make it stop! Make it stop!", my poor baby brother must
have thought before being knocked unconscious. </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9PDuDQqrPCCp5JwO1xBdeWSdTzga37s2lMaXexwiCViUKdJ_MaVGJWme22DrbBSpHZFz_HxNmpDWiHzg6TeN0NNU0-KBP9BlBLspdYrEO1izFhSpgXy5COeoN-iffCE1YZoe5sYqog/s1600/ID-10035833.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="blizzard storm" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9PDuDQqrPCCp5JwO1xBdeWSdTzga37s2lMaXexwiCViUKdJ_MaVGJWme22DrbBSpHZFz_HxNmpDWiHzg6TeN0NNU0-KBP9BlBLspdYrEO1izFhSpgXy5COeoN-iffCE1YZoe5sYqog/s200/ID-10035833.jpg" title="thunderstorm" width="154" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Even
now, he can sleep through blizzards. He will say “Let me have a
short nap” and we know we can say goodbye to our plans as he won't wake up till hours later. Waking him up is the most difficult thing in
the world. We can push and prod and he won't even stir. “Throw a
bucket of water on me” he used to say when we complained about the difficulties of waking him up (Yeah sure Rueben, we'll keep that in mind for future
use). </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">When
he was young, he used to always get up with a smile on his face.
Looking forward to the day. He wasn't into toys, preferring to find
fun in things people usually throw away. </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnpRQ0iPHqUG1EKiAumECd-BTFu62rwev2eGvQXQDQa4D1engxnhrDDpXVRStkGBjtlxt4sIgZwDgF9_5xsUFlXthPc9-gFEsSyo2fOMeVoAXihrfMlUIt39zEw8_LYT2duzc21giaLg/s1600/friends+9.bmp" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnpRQ0iPHqUG1EKiAumECd-BTFu62rwev2eGvQXQDQa4D1engxnhrDDpXVRStkGBjtlxt4sIgZwDgF9_5xsUFlXthPc9-gFEsSyo2fOMeVoAXihrfMlUIt39zEw8_LYT2duzc21giaLg/s1600/friends+9.bmp" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I remember him confiscating
this box my mom was planning to throw away and letting his imagination
run wild with it. Turning it into a fortress or castle (who knew what
his mind was thinking then). One of the earliest forms of recycling. </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
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<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">He
loved cars and motorbikes (he still does actually) waiting for the day when he was old enough
to ride one. He used to collect all the car magazines, excitedly
describing parts of the car, like the engine, talking about torque
and combustion, not realizing his sister, whom he was busy explaining
it to, had totally spaced out (cars just ain't my thing. I love
watching speed-related, car-chase movies, but that is as far as it
would go. Try to pull me into a conversation about the actual
workings of a car and you lose me there). </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">He
was interested in law enforcement from a very young age so he used to
make his own guns out of a wood and pegs, carving it to look like a
gun, then going from room to room, looking for his imaginary suspects (probably due to his sisters being hooked on 21 Jump Street at that time). Now he has grown up to have the build, physique and height
of a Police Officer and when he gets his stern face <img alt="Photobucket Smiley Stern Angry Bully Punch animated gif" border="0" src="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/Bully-large.gif" title="Angry Smiley" />on, he strikes
fear into the hearts of those, who had dared to mess with his family and
friends. </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">When
I left for University, he was about 8. He was shorter than me when I
left but when I returned, he had somehow managed to become
taller than me. It seemed like every time I returned home during the
holidays, he was getting taller and more mature. The little boy I
knew was not there anymore and he was turning into this young man. Till
now I regret those days I was away from home as I had missed my
brother growing up. It seemed like within a few short years, he was no longer the baby
brother. </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzgyO1ge_yLCE-E-6WOuoPvTogo_UECX0-ueBWAfyChLN0JS9ZrdSKw12w15gNFnBHcrT_tueIrBPcj4XCrmBe1Pd1La010nqldA88sE0nnPnijEFj0sftJh9uk2Cnba25GTUTrjDnA/s1600/Small+18+transparent.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzgyO1ge_yLCE-E-6WOuoPvTogo_UECX0-ueBWAfyChLN0JS9ZrdSKw12w15gNFnBHcrT_tueIrBPcj4XCrmBe1Pd1La010nqldA88sE0nnPnijEFj0sftJh9uk2Cnba25GTUTrjDnA/s1600/Small+18+transparent.png" /></a></div>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">I
remember a neighbor telling me a story I've never forgotten. My
brother was 9 and he was so fidgety. She asked him “Why
are you so excited, Rueben?”. He said “Of course I'm excited, my
sister is coming back from Sarawak today for her holidays”. That
was something that touched me and I've not forgotten it. I'm sure any sister will love to have that; the knowledge that her baby brother loved her and missed her enough to look forward to her coming
back home on her semester break. </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">A family friend once told us that my
brother will only be close to us when he's young, once he enters his
teens, he won't want to spend time with us anymore. That may be true
for that family friend's sons, who rarely spend time with
them but my brother is different. Yes. He has friends. Lots of them
and he is rarely at home because he hangs out with them. But when we
ask him to spend time with us, he never turns us down. He is even willing to go on long holidays with us, where he sits patiently waiting while we do our shopping, then carrying our shopping bags for us when we are done. When we check-in into a hotel during our holidays, he's our </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwV9eK9m17_whkou6Hp5xbJVMFkyNRYKyJ1ifAPZQqhbpClT8sZypo_aECFhDrWFAom20y-XIqn_B8i_l8l1MspmW-t9LJ46tyBFZSvdyrl8mYVkviSbzsixnJL6wiPPKzaMWlgNnjdA/s1600/ID-10052554.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwV9eK9m17_whkou6Hp5xbJVMFkyNRYKyJ1ifAPZQqhbpClT8sZypo_aECFhDrWFAom20y-XIqn_B8i_l8l1MspmW-t9LJ46tyBFZSvdyrl8mYVkviSbzsixnJL6wiPPKzaMWlgNnjdA/s200/ID-10052554.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">bellboy, carrying all our heavy bags up to our rooms for us, while saying "Do you need to pack and bring the entire house? Why do you all need so many bags. Look at me, one knapsack and I'm done".</span></span></b></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">On our holidays, we usually end up relaxing in our hotel room. Not going out. Chit-chatting. Most of the time, my brother will entertain us with his jokes and crazy stories. </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">He is not perfect though. Getting into scrapes that scares us to bits. Worrying us. The thing I like about him is that, no matter what mess he has done or in what big trouble he is in, he cannot keep it from my mom. He ends up confessing everything to her. Knowing he is going to get the scolding of his life but unable to hide it from her. </span></span></b></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Now that he's in college, furthering his studies, we miss him terribly. The house is quiet without his stories and crazy sense of humor. Although, he still makes it a point to call home <img alt="Photobucket" border="0" src="http://i1065.photobucket.com/albums/u391/ameertha29/MSN-Emoticon-phone-087.gif" />every day to talk to my parents, it is still not the same. I know my father misses him terribly as my brother is the one he can talk to freely.</span></span></span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">When
my mom was not well, my brother stayed by her side. When my father needs a
confidant to listen to all his political adventures and tales of woes, my brother is
there for him, to listen patiently and without censure. When my grandmother was sick, he was there for her,
helping my mom clean her up and take care of her. He never complains when my
mother asks him to take my grandmother to the doctors or to do things
for her.</span></span></h3>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">When
my mother was undergoing radiotherapy, he rushed home after school to
buy and send lunch over to my grandmother. He does it all without
complaint because he says he remembers how my grandmother took care
of him when he was young. </span></span></h3>
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</div>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrzP0GkFGgw_cntYjtneHMof8LKWsicQObn1yQzOgIbGNuTeEu9tSx6hn87sw657Oo2M5WVAm5fPjxJmYrgUx6_1thLXgXFy4JxA_UmsMm8m_huu9KOeFqSESPoQ-x_OYR00HQu5Zxsg/s1600/2.bmp" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrzP0GkFGgw_cntYjtneHMof8LKWsicQObn1yQzOgIbGNuTeEu9tSx6hn87sw657Oo2M5WVAm5fPjxJmYrgUx6_1thLXgXFy4JxA_UmsMm8m_huu9KOeFqSESPoQ-x_OYR00HQu5Zxsg/s1600/2.bmp" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">How she used to make a bottle of thick Milo
for him as soon as my father dropped him off at her place. He will
drink it then follow her to feed her chickens and ducks. That sense of
gratitude he has for how she took care of him makes him ready to do
anything for her now. Many children have forgotten what their mothers
have done for them, neglecting their mothers at their old age,
visiting them once or twice a year and thinking their job done. We're
proud that our brother still has that sense of gratitude, remembering
what his grandmother did for him and choosing to be there for her
when she needs him.</span></span></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOcfWxhObWL2fSlliGabe04rHH5kYftOt9m9dfCE0-WqxTuR5sE0NUtQ0AO1Pwhp7dQ5BNFvtnXU6zMCrHTmt4vBBjaWLqFr20Bid3r3smPmmjRkPKhBCgy0KhuubVHUUFTmvouYjEg/s1600/3.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOcfWxhObWL2fSlliGabe04rHH5kYftOt9m9dfCE0-WqxTuR5sE0NUtQ0AO1Pwhp7dQ5BNFvtnXU6zMCrHTmt4vBBjaWLqFr20Bid3r3smPmmjRkPKhBCgy0KhuubVHUUFTmvouYjEg/s320/3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<h3 style="color: black;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm
proud of how my brother has turned out. From the funny kid who used to sing "I'm sitting here in the boring room" at church during mass to the guy, <span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>who </b></span><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">has the ability to diffuse any tense situation with his humor. </span></span></b>I know he is someone whom I
can count on when times are tough. He jokingly says to me “You're
not married. When you are old, only my children and I will have to
take care of you”. A friend of mine said, in response to this “At
least he's planning and willing to take care of you”. </span></span></h3>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vy_3ziHNtbvn-RV1ys3B5sXA0y9FDhRqp6n5etm2nvcIULXd7tN6i35b2mq0iVlDANAoxDsit49NXYS2uk2ptiWKxwi9_zzsDVxoiy_3FfuR6cmILKlq4A0lBcxKnMuuTK6fu1eswQ/s1600/Last+Slide.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vy_3ziHNtbvn-RV1ys3B5sXA0y9FDhRqp6n5etm2nvcIULXd7tN6i35b2mq0iVlDANAoxDsit49NXYS2uk2ptiWKxwi9_zzsDVxoiy_3FfuR6cmILKlq4A0lBcxKnMuuTK6fu1eswQ/s320/Last+Slide.jpg" width="490" /></a></div>
<h3 style="color: black; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,Times New Roman,serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">God
has indeed blessed us with a son and brother, we love and that we're
proud of. Our only prayer for him is that he studies and works hard, does well
and achieves success and everything else his heart desires.</span></span></h3>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mutNE_xSG64" width="560"></iframe> </h3>
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Images courtesy of <a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/" target="_blank">FreeDigitalPhotos.net</a><br />
</h3>
Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-86538897854943223422012-05-01T11:02:00.002+08:002020-10-04T15:57:06.763+08:00My Birthday : 29 January 2012
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I'm not someone who looks forward to
birthdays. It's just another day for me. It's not like I sit by the
clock, counting down the minutes till midnight then jumping excitedly
while doing the Macarena, proclaiming loudly “It's My
Birthday! It's My Birthday!”.</b></span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Heck. I don't even know how to do the
Macarena.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Who am I kidding! Yes! I love
birthdays! Enjoy every moment of it. It does not matter that I'm
getting older, I still love it. It's funny that when I was younger, I
wanted to grow up so badly. Hated people telling me that "I'm TOO YOUNG". Too young to join in my adult cousins'
conversation with my mom (yeah. This still rankles). Too young to
read books by certain authors (My mom had a strict watch on all my reading materials. Only "safe" books were allowed. I guess that's a tale for another blog post?) </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Once I hit 18, I was so proud. Felt
like a grown-up. Like I could now do anything I wanted. Now I've hit
the 30s. I can see the 40s on the horizon in just seven years. Then
the 50s. Retirement. Creaking bones. Wrinkles. Ok.. Now I'm just
scaring myself. Saw a gray hair recently and it gave me heart
palpitations. I'm not kidding. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>HEART. PALPITATIONS. </b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRO_D9Il-74qfNJXxTq4p93lWte5cbZJzGkw76LL0Fa0qX4aagenBYJoXhhgsBwQ6o4GHmuyJODKYA9DRhNw3-KqtOpPDsl-1-C7c24oRhM3NsrlT5XmG3KxITvWtP7vrAk2i1mh3KA/s1600/George+Clooney+Gray.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="George Clooney looking good in gray hair" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRO_D9Il-74qfNJXxTq4p93lWte5cbZJzGkw76LL0Fa0qX4aagenBYJoXhhgsBwQ6o4GHmuyJODKYA9DRhNw3-KqtOpPDsl-1-C7c24oRhM3NsrlT5XmG3KxITvWtP7vrAk2i1mh3KA/s200/George+Clooney+Gray.jpg" title="George Clooney" width="138" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Drove my
colleagues crazy by harping on that gray hair the whole day. What can
I say, I'm no George Clooney who can rock the "gray hair" look. Actually, </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I can't rock any look so "gray hair"... Don't even want to think about it.. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I guess nothing else can bring your mortality to greater focus than the discovery of your first gray hair. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Anyway, the past few years, I've been over the moon, crazy excited, since I found out that I share the same
birthday with Adam Lambert (Yeah. It takes very little to get me excited). Now I can fantasize having a
joint birthday celebration with him. Would not mind learning the Macarena for
the event but then again might totally scare off Adam with all the
unwanted jiggling. Ok. Now, I'm just making myself miserable. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>In my opinion, birthdays are only special, when you have someone to share it with. Imagine sitting at home alone, staring at a single piece of cake, singing "Happy Birthday" to yourself..... Scary thought.. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I may be a little neurotic. Slightly crazy. My train of thoughts even scare me sometimes. I'm totally messed up and when it comes to idiosyncrasies and weird quirks, I have them in abundance.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>So the thing that makes it a bit easier for me to bear is that my family is awesome and I'm always lucky to meet people, who want to be friends with me. For the life of me, I can't imagine why but they seem to want to remain friends. For that, I know I'm blessed. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>So here is my way of thanking both my family and friends. For not only accepting my crazy ways and awful personality but for being caring enough to make my birthday special. </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwoKeZ6xx1SFRwP04R_jeY4B3jpLKukrkoUJA0Z4QVyolzouKUUtNtksQ8kJO4McWGrfIo8LJXxg7009LuWfEUxFt0pZ3fZI23pCHgeHvHycJhwcSa6j8ccBhU6tC6QoJNPZzAdvXpnw/s1600/Adam+Lambert.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Gorgeous Adam Lambert Trespassing Album" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwoKeZ6xx1SFRwP04R_jeY4B3jpLKukrkoUJA0Z4QVyolzouKUUtNtksQ8kJO4McWGrfIo8LJXxg7009LuWfEUxFt0pZ3fZI23pCHgeHvHycJhwcSa6j8ccBhU6tC6QoJNPZzAdvXpnw/s320/Adam+Lambert.jpg" title="Adam Lambert" width="244" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Featuring snippets of songs from Adam Lambert's second album, "Trespassing", which will be released in May 2012. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://www.myplaydirect.com/adam-lambert/?cid=lg:lpg&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=adamofficial.com&utm_content=discog%3Apreorder&utm_campaign=tresspassing" target="_blank">Acknowledgement : Use of Adam Lambert's Music</a> </b></span><br />
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<br /></div>Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-30575270527486806502012-04-09T00:18:00.001+08:002013-06-03T13:25:03.746+08:00Have a blessed Easter everyone<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG0NKH-k_IWfEMhLzmQmvMZq_5MV5EcAWtNkpQaDRsxnl9WhLauD6G5olx-WGQpDW7ZaPiG3NX7_T_3kLfeQvNQGdii7vvhG1PVJoaADvPM3tpvbXjIwSL0TIv8qgSzwWSpnznmg3naw/s1600/Cute+Easter+Bunny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG0NKH-k_IWfEMhLzmQmvMZq_5MV5EcAWtNkpQaDRsxnl9WhLauD6G5olx-WGQpDW7ZaPiG3NX7_T_3kLfeQvNQGdii7vvhG1PVJoaADvPM3tpvbXjIwSL0TIv8qgSzwWSpnznmg3naw/s320/Cute+Easter+Bunny.jpg" width="276" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>A few friends have asked me<span style="color: blue;"> <span style="color: black;">what is the reason for celebrating</span> Easter</span> as they are more familiar with the more commercialized aspects of Easter such as the Easter Egg, Easter Bunny and so on. Although, I'm not a full-fledged, baptized Christian, please allow me to offer an explanation. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Christmas celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ while <span style="color: blue;">Easter</span> is the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. The whole six weeks leading up to Easter is known as <span style="color: blue;">Lent</span>.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: blue;"><u>Lent</u> </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Lent lasts for about 6 weeks or 46 days and usually starts in February or March. It begins with <span style="color: blue;"></span></b></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: blue;">Ash Wednesday</span>. During the <span style="color: blue;">Ash Wednesday</span> Mass, ash is placed on the forehead in the sign of the cross. </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoyIZ-AagKz8sGYwX-yZR_P5XKbdNDsv8ZC7KSQ1pV-OnYzoB608c4cRE3dQa_064-hULIdPz_bvm1gDzETC9i1EA9e1WT56ULNSmk0vBLatGGDTftjNYaCUC5rtWSn4W1px6ZI4YKEA/s1600/240px-US_Navy_080206-N-7869M-057_Electronics_Technician_3rd_Class_Leila_Tardieu_receives_the_sacramental_ashes_during_an_Ash_Wednesday_celebration.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoyIZ-AagKz8sGYwX-yZR_P5XKbdNDsv8ZC7KSQ1pV-OnYzoB608c4cRE3dQa_064-hULIdPz_bvm1gDzETC9i1EA9e1WT56ULNSmk0vBLatGGDTftjNYaCUC5rtWSn4W1px6ZI4YKEA/s200/240px-US_Navy_080206-N-7869M-057_Electronics_Technician_3rd_Class_Leila_Tardieu_receives_the_sacramental_ashes_during_an_Ash_Wednesday_celebration.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>This is done to remind Christians that life on Earth is transitory and that we humans will all be turned to dust when we die. In other words, our body will become ash.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The 40 days of Lent represents the 40 days that Jesus spent fasting while He endured temptation by Satan. Thus, during Lent, Christians are also encouraged to practice abstinence</b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b> which means to give up something they have previously enjoyed such as meat. It is also the time for reflection, prayers </b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>and repentance of sins.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u><span style="color: blue;">Holy Week </span></u></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Holy Week begins with <span style="color: blue;">Palm Sunday, <span style="color: black;">which</span></span> falls on the Sunday before Easter, the sixth Sunday of Lent. During the <span style="color: blue;">Palm Sunday </span>Mass, palm leaves are distributed to the congregation.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Thursday of the same week is known as <span style="color: blue;">Maundy Thursday</span> or <span style="color: blue;">Holy Thursday</span>. It commemorates the last supper of Jesus before He was crucified.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The next day is known as<span style="color: blue;"> Good Friday</span>, which commemorates the crucifixion and death of Jesus Christ. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Jesus, betrayed by His disciple, Judas Iscariot* is sentenced to death. This death sentence is due to the fear towards Jesus, felt by those in power as Jesus was beginning to amass lots of followers and </b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>was changing the way of life at that time through His teachings and performance of </b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>miracles**. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>* This is where the definition of "Judas" as a traitor or someone who betrays a friend comes from. So when you say, "He's such a Judas", you are saying that he is someone who cannot be trusted or he's a traitor. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>** Many miracles performed by Jesus were recorded. These miracles are divided into four : cures, exorcisms, resurrection of the dead and control over nature. This includes Jesus' healing of blind men, lepers, cripples and the cure of a bleeding woman. </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhShqMWrgsdj37MucJF5ccxB7EEXN9gKb7ShgtuzFqbT4qUXEo4NjzDDmaj3ntWNSvVxLSCDhVWAft7Nn8XpcD6Cvfp6L1zFRcPmDt82zzjd5TivNGZq97_0jHueW2DqcJR7LEKRlSvYQ/s1600/The+raising+of+Lazarus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhShqMWrgsdj37MucJF5ccxB7EEXN9gKb7ShgtuzFqbT4qUXEo4NjzDDmaj3ntWNSvVxLSCDhVWAft7Nn8XpcD6Cvfp6L1zFRcPmDt82zzjd5TivNGZq97_0jHueW2DqcJR7LEKRlSvYQ/s200/The+raising+of+Lazarus.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>He also raised people from the dead, the most famous is the raising of Lazarus, who had been dead for four days and is brought back to life by Jesus. Other miracles are Jesus walking on water and calming a stormy sea. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Jesus is put to death in the most horrific and torturous way imaginable, where He is flogged, beaten, a crown of thorns is forced upon His head, forced to carry the heavy cross for many miles and then He was crucified. Crucifixion is the most cruel form of death that Jesus had to endure, in which Jesus' hands and feet were nailed to a cross and He is left hanging on the cross for 6 agonizing hours till He dies.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>On the third day after His death, Jesus is resurrected from the dead. He rises from the dead and walks out from the tomb, where He was buried. This is celebrated as <span style="color: blue;">Easter Sunday</span>. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Nowadays, the celebration of Easter has been commercialized with the introduction of Easter eggs (either jelly beans or chocolates) and the Easter Bunny, who is believed to hide Easter eggs for children to find in the morning. The symbolism of Easter eggs does have its origins in Christianity with the hard shell of the egg symbolizing the locked tomb, where Jesus was buried and the breaking of the egg, symbolizing the resurrection of Jesus.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Sources : </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://www.catholic.org/" target="_blank">http://www.catholic.org/</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ash_Wednesday" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ash_Wednesday</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lent" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lent</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palm_Sunday" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palm_Sunday</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maundy_Thursday" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maundy_Thursday</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Good_Friday" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Good_Friday</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miracles_of_Jesus" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miracles_of_Jesus</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easter" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easter</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easter_egg" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Easter_egg</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>So that is the description of Easter. In my family, my mom becomes a vegetarian (abstaining from meat, chicken, seafood, eggs and dairy products) during the entire six weeks of Lent, only breaking her abstinence after Easter Mass. In recent years, my sister has begun to follow her example, by also becoming a vegetarian the entire period of Lent. What about me, you might wonder. Am I vegetarian too? I can only answer with three phrases : "Bad Daughter", "Black Sheep" and "Weak Willpower". It's not that I don't want to but every year, when I tell my mom, I want to become vegetarian too, she looks at me in horror and says, "No. No. I won't know what to cook. I can just eat onions and rice. I can't do the same for you". So for fear of causing her a stress filled Lenten festival, I abstain from abstaining. Yeah. Excuses I know. Telling myself this and using my mother as an excuse not to feel guilty or ashamed. It ain't working, I blush to confess.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Ever since we were small, we used to have family gatherings at our home after Easter Mass. My mom will cook up something special and her brothers and their family will join us at our home for dinner. Do I actually deserve to enjoy the food, when I've not been on any vegetarian diet during the entire Lenten period, is not a question I'm going to answer. I have tried to be on a vege diet but most of my attempts have been foiled. Next year. I will try next year. I shall be strong. Fingers crossed.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Here's wishing everyone a blessed Easter. My way of thinking is that it does not matter whether you believe in Jesus or if you believe in other religions or even if you don't believe in God at all, maybe you just believe in the Universe. The important thing to cherish during this Easter season is the message Jesus shared, which is to have goodwill, peace and respect for all humans and that even though we may have different skin color, beliefs, principles, religions and way of life, we should always have love for one another. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Here is a video I did for Easter. The video is my way of commemorating Easter. It features :</b></span></div>
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<li><span style="font-size: large;"><b>My favorite Christian songs</b></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Scenes from<span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;"> the movie</span>, The Passion of the Christ</span>. </b></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><b>My favorite pictures </b></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Photos I took from our recent trip to the St. Anne's Church in Bukit Mertajam, Penang, Malaysia. The St. Anne's Church has been around from the 19th Century but in the 21st Century, a new church was built. The new church that was opened on 26th July 2002 could fit 1500 people and is one of the largest churches in Malaysia, attracting a crowd of 100,000 during the Feast of St. Anne. Source : <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Anne%27s_Church,_Bukit_Mertajam" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Anne%27s_Church,_Bukit_Mertajam</a></b></span></li>
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Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-58293917687050653612012-02-06T19:17:00.002+08:002012-05-12T17:30:10.331+08:00New Year (2012) Video<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>I</b><b> was feeling melancholy at the end of 2011. I felt the year had passed by so quickly that I could not really recall anything momentous or special that had happened in 2011 to make me hop with joy. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b> All I could think of is all the movies and songs I had enjoyed. You might shake your head at my absurdity. Yeah I know it's sad. That I did not do anything special for sonnets to be written about me but who can do that anyway, except for a select few. The chosen ones, who are gifted with intelligence, charm and talent. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>Anyway, enough of the aimless prattle. Here is a video I made that looks back on what I remember of 2011. May 2012 bring you all that your heart desires. </b></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=1152" target="_blank">Image: jscreationzs / FreeDigitalPhotos.net</a>Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-6396431032125126342012-02-06T18:42:00.003+08:002020-10-04T15:58:55.741+08:00Videos; my home-made personal gifts<div style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">It has been said that home-made, DIY gifts are the best as it comes from the heart. Ok. The cynics among us would probably roll their eyes and say “CORNY”. The word 'cheapskate' will probably be used too. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Of course, knowing the perfect gift to buy someone is a talent that very few have. I suck at this. I usually end up buying something totally inappropriate and unwanted. The stick it in the drawer type of present and not take out unless you want something to kill that pesky cockroach. Which is why, when I want to buy a gift, I usually drag my family along. Or my friends. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">I also have extremely bad taste so something </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI521QlSOTkzGD5YbB3LVTMbxjAWg7T4Fkp1MPBbKGqLXsVsSjspBTdLHfzfou4XPMBITnzFZZJWOEvhd2xRH7usNV-mMpPE1Fxpwd5VHs0eudkY6WqDTbCIwutSBrsmQWGXw6HjNVtA/s1600/128+%25288%2529.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI521QlSOTkzGD5YbB3LVTMbxjAWg7T4Fkp1MPBbKGqLXsVsSjspBTdLHfzfou4XPMBITnzFZZJWOEvhd2xRH7usNV-mMpPE1Fxpwd5VHs0eudkY6WqDTbCIwutSBrsmQWGXw6HjNVtA/s1600/128+%25288%2529.png" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">may look good to me but my siblings usually have that “What is wrong with you” look on their face when I suggest it. Something along the line of “I can't believe I'm related to her” kind of thing.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">My sister is great at buying gifts. She buys the most wonderful gifts for us. Especially clothes. Most of my apparel choices are based on her advice and are gifts from her. Even my brother has the knack for buying great gifts.</span></b> <span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Another great gift to give are home-made gifts. Writing poems, painting a picture, creating a handicraft, those are gifts that would surely be treasured. One of the best gifts we ever got, was this </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Writing poems are my mother's forte. She can write acrostic poems using the alphabets of our name. We are usually thrilled to receive one as the poems are specially made just for us with a description of our characteristics and personality. Here are a few examples : <a href="http://jacintaslyricalthoughts.blogspot.com/search/label/Acrostic%20Poems" target="_blank">http://jacintaslyricalthoughts.blogspot.com/Acrostic Poems</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Unfortunately I did not inherit her writing skills or any artistic abilities. Art was one of the subjects I detested in school as most of my drawings looked like the cat had thrown up on it. Even drawing line figures were out of my scope as the lines were usually crooked. I cannot sing as my voice has the tone and timbre of fingernails being dragged down a blackboard.. Shiver.. “Moaning Myrtle” from Harry Potter. Remember her?? You get the picture.. </b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3UKFFBqe52ZmD0FCrpExlSWn3Yfzw-AeQv6gxT3YHSzRB6W1zy-P7I0n-0yk2Yi3H0RcpgxjfDzJRZhZsppj2lGviJRjs1ASxLbi5Grz_iIPsiBQ5wnjwENxSDD31OnUzgTqhAe3rIQ/s1600/3d-smileys-7.gif" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3UKFFBqe52ZmD0FCrpExlSWn3Yfzw-AeQv6gxT3YHSzRB6W1zy-P7I0n-0yk2Yi3H0RcpgxjfDzJRZhZsppj2lGviJRjs1ASxLbi5Grz_iIPsiBQ5wnjwENxSDD31OnUzgTqhAe3rIQ/s1600/3d-smileys-7.gif" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>I can't create beautiful figurines and things for my carpentry skills are non existent and most of the things I had to create in school during the Living Skills Subject were mangled pieces of junk.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Let's not start talking about my cooking skills. Burnt. Salty. Sour. Bland. I rest my case.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>But I figured out the thing I can do to make a gift for someone seem personal and considered “home-made”, is making videos. Personal videos for my family and friends.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The videos might be totally low grade, flop at the box-office, straight to home video kind of thing, as I did not study video production and editing nor do I come from any video production or editing background but it is something I learnt on my own through Google and YouTube. Thank Goodness for the Internet. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The videos are also done using freewares so there are not much special features that can be added. Yeah, I'm totally building a case for my poor sucky videos. I have great materials to work with, like wonderful pictures of my family and friends, however, it is my editing skills that leaves much to be desired.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>However I enjoy video production and will continue to do so. The videos might be long and boring. They might ramble on as I do in my blog. All I can say is that it comes from the heart and I hope the receivers of the videos enjoy them as much as I enjoyed making them. </b></span></div>
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Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-20783071914227675982012-01-08T11:03:00.003+08:002012-05-12T17:29:41.304+08:00Building a case for my blog<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>The title of my blog is Ame's Ramblings so if you came to this blog hoping for some serious intelligent discourse on the world or politics, you will be sorely disappointed. Nothing newsworthy or illuminating will I proffer. No </b></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>life altering tips or anything </b></span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><b>to make this world a better place. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>In this blog, I can only offer my opinions on anything and everything under the sun. Books. Movies. Films. Songs. Celebrities. Food. Events in my life, that others will probably roll their eyes and look down their noses at for its total insignificance. But then since my life is totally boring, devoid of exciting happenings and I'm certainly not on any change the world missions, I just have to report on the mundane regular happenings in my life. That's the purpose of a blog right? Something that might be totally insignificant to others but means something to me. Yeah.. I keep telling myself that.. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>So that is what I offer. My ramblings on entertainment, books and my opinion on everything even if my opinion might make some people clutch their heart with shock. Whether the ramblings on entertainment will be entertaining, I'm afraid I can't promise. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Rambling on and on is part of my nature. I just love to talk and talk and talk. When I talk in public however, people can just punch me in my face to shut me up or worse, stop listening and walk away. So in this blog, I can talk without worry of repercussions. There probably still won't be anyone to listen to (or read) my ramblings but then at least I won't have to worry about anyone causing me physical harm just to shut me up.</b></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=2280" target="_blank">Image: digitalart / FreeDigitalPhotos.net</a><br />
<a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=2664" target="_blank">Image: Stuart Miles / FreeDigitalPhotos.net</a>Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-76306910244838905962011-05-09T23:34:00.005+08:002012-05-12T17:29:12.526+08:00The Tale of Why I changed my Blog Address<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">The Tale of Why I changed my Blog Address from My Life Sucks to Ame's Ramblings</span> </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I've gotten a lot of flak from everyone around me for using the title "My Life Sucks" for my blog. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My Mom gave me a long lecture, with a lot of head shaking and "I'm disappointed" in you look (that Mothers are gifted with when they bear children), for using the word "sucks" in my blog. "Improper", was the word she used. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My brother rolled his eyes and said "what kind of name is "my life sucks", couldn't you think of something better?". He was probably hoping for something like "I love my brother".blogspot.com. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My sister said "Your Blog Title is My Life Sucks. Seriously? Seriously" with her eyes way up to the heavens. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>My colleagues were ready to flatten me out with a rolling pin for daring to say that my life sucks when THEY can see how lucky I am to have such an awesome family and cool friends. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>So in the face of all that opposition, what can a girl like me do but cave in and agree to change my blog address. Yeah. All those confident people out there, would have probably loved me to stand my ground but I'm weak.. Weak.. I tell you.. All I wanted to do was wipe that "I'm disappointed in you" look my mom had every single time she accidentally stumbled onto my blog. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Then I was stumped. What name do I put that best describes me? Somehow, I think "Shrek", "Beast" or "big butt" would have caused more head shaking and "tsk"ing. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Then I realized that the thing I love most to do in the world, other than listening to music and reading (and falling in love with most of the heroic hunks in my story books. That my friends, is a tale for another blog post), is to ramble on and on. Yeah.. I just love to write.. Nonsense mostly.. But in writing, I can ramble on and on, with no one to stop me.. In person, it could be a whole lot of different.. If I talk too much, people can just whack me on the head with a newspaper to shut me up.. But they can't do that in my blog.. That is, I don't think so.. They can't do it, can they?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Anyway... Who cares.. I am going to ramble on.. Ramble on and on.. Ame's Ramblings.. Will anyone be there to read it? Hmmmm I wonder....</b></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/" target="_blank">Image: FreeDigitalPhotos.net</a>Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6708546039318458741.post-25685595784239257412009-08-09T11:50:00.003+08:002012-02-06T16:40:11.114+08:00My Life Sucks....<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>I was infected with the blog bug and thanks to the encouragement and urging from my colleagues decided to get into the blogging thing. I am no poet or writer but I do hope you enjoy my mindless nonsense ramblings on life in general. My life that sucks. </b></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />
</b></span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>You know what sucks more? I could not even use the name 'mylifesucks' for my blog. Someone else had already used it. I guess a lot of people's lives do suck. Not only mine. I wonder who was the first person, who got to use the name? Buddy, I can understand...</b></span></div>Bethanyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13110263682051013767noreply@blogger.com11