tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81824022024-02-20T16:21:27.878-08:00...Think like a genius, act like a fool...Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-22123034606085549552014-03-10T21:54:00.001-07:002014-03-10T21:54:10.051-07:00Who really cares?It is at times of calamity that you finally realize who has a heart that truly cares.<div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261612869161530773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-53010479543975555122011-06-16T10:02:00.000-07:002011-06-16T10:05:33.209-07:00Fall in love and you are doomed to death.Never love another person more than how much he/she loves you. If you love him/her even a bit more than how much he/she loves you back, you will definitely suffer. This kind of sacrifice is unnecessary as it will not be appreciated by him/her. It will be a miracle if he/she even realize that you have sacrificed a lot!<div><br /></div><div>Let's take a poll:</div><div><br /></div><div>Agree</div><div><br /></div><div>or </div><div><br /></div><div>Disagree?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>=yingoying</div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261612869161530773noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-10798173450477167982011-01-17T18:37:00.000-08:002011-01-17T18:51:12.784-08:00When I met you...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LL6ry_tHyiQYJ6kUX7Taz9kmES-l8mnNEMhILzYfMf8cBdn0fEAh_aIY5260flhGBmaVfTQU-ap8bwup7cI97NF0WdFYcorkqKHgVLGQ0BGsbpyw0B4oLnyTBVcJlaWh80cP/s1600/Tied_by_wildpolarbearqueen.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LL6ry_tHyiQYJ6kUX7Taz9kmES-l8mnNEMhILzYfMf8cBdn0fEAh_aIY5260flhGBmaVfTQU-ap8bwup7cI97NF0WdFYcorkqKHgVLGQ0BGsbpyw0B4oLnyTBVcJlaWh80cP/s320/Tied_by_wildpolarbearqueen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563350752109368370" /></a><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>Before I met you, I was a free horse, galloping wildly in the forest in search of new adventures, wondrous sights, and the freshness of my surroundings. </b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>Before I met you, I was as happy as ever, never having any worries in the world, and living my life according to my will alone...</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>Before I met you, I had dreams of venturing into what seems to be the impossible because there was none to belittle me, none to tell me I am a failure.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>But...</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>when I met you, things changed.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>When I met you, you tied a rein around me, because we are now one- you my rider, and I, your horse.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>When I met you, everyone thought that I'm your lucky charm, and I try my best to please you, to make you happy, and to make you proud.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>When I met you, I start galloping towards your dream, not mine, because I want to be deemed worthy in your sight.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>When I met you, I no longer live for me, but toil to serve you and meet your needs...</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>for I no longer am myself.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>no longer the horse.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>but now, your horse.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>=yingoying=</b></span></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261612869161530773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-13805995524662566532010-04-11T05:06:00.000-07:002010-04-11T05:08:28.918-07:00yingoying<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGBoELEwMOmguzp9B1f6XTidscElkeVFEUK7clCKTrlsfAj2AkCshSUVOfuMTJJtgeSdgSJJntsLjbJqMQ3n_xv4mCOG6yh42R775I4bGDjb7Y67xMvjsvraQ1AZBjLN_CeEq7/s1600/Image000.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGBoELEwMOmguzp9B1f6XTidscElkeVFEUK7clCKTrlsfAj2AkCshSUVOfuMTJJtgeSdgSJJntsLjbJqMQ3n_xv4mCOG6yh42R775I4bGDjb7Y67xMvjsvraQ1AZBjLN_CeEq7/s320/Image000.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458850117204519026" border="0" /></a>Life has been good so far. One more week of assignments and classes and that's it. Can't wait for that moment to come. Freedom! oh lala. Do I feel any sense of achievement? Erm, to be honest, not really yet. There are still so many things to worry about.....sigh...... But that's life, right?<br /><br /><br />=yingoying=Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261612869161530773noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-5912031377711813482009-12-07T07:26:00.001-08:002009-12-07T07:42:02.465-08:00When everything's working out too well..<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Wa2kWx0QK_eh2ulq44LS2QQtcDUXQE1MBUwR5b1zhJydbCtK4fdZFCoOVYayj8p4sBXAwVrpSypidnLAz9-O8vPvqmd_G1W8g1lzls_9dEBhgqZnp2HC95q0kmrfbnlJMK3C/s1600-h/18082009073.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Wa2kWx0QK_eh2ulq44LS2QQtcDUXQE1MBUwR5b1zhJydbCtK4fdZFCoOVYayj8p4sBXAwVrpSypidnLAz9-O8vPvqmd_G1W8g1lzls_9dEBhgqZnp2HC95q0kmrfbnlJMK3C/s320/18082009073.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412516484600207506" /></a><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></b><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663300;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">What do you do when everything's working out too well for you? Exactly... nothing. For approximately two weeks, almost everything is going smoothly for me-- I'm having my break and having so much fun that I've accomplished almost nothing. One would say that it's not a bad thing because rest and relaxation is a necessity in this time of absolute unrest, but what if my creative mind has stopped functioning in the midst of this solitude? I've taken one month off to come up with something fruitful, but I don't even sense that that will happen any time soon. This act of lying dormant in a world of nothingness is really sapping every drop of energy within me. Rest but unrest. Ironic eh?</span></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#663300;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#663300;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#663300;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b>=yingoying=</b></span></span></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261612869161530773noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-26472756332737871262009-09-22T01:13:00.000-07:002009-09-22T01:20:34.481-07:00Amazingly, I'm ok.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_2xSDjNbVN3zE26-Q0_Z11-7AIGx21B_JPYE_aBJD_4VY2olJAhQrkp7467M0pfzgNe2HURS8NE6kSkPSSFn8vG1tW6UB1H_iPewvFu0H8hy1ITykSi_V-KoRrEIFV-br3JqT/s1600-h/Michelle_ying.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_2xSDjNbVN3zE26-Q0_Z11-7AIGx21B_JPYE_aBJD_4VY2olJAhQrkp7467M0pfzgNe2HURS8NE6kSkPSSFn8vG1tW6UB1H_iPewvFu0H8hy1ITykSi_V-KoRrEIFV-br3JqT/s320/Michelle_ying.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384202651195996434" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I was KO.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Now, I'm OK.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I don't know how long I will stay OK.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">But, thanks for praying that I am not KO. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>=yingoying=</i></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261612869161530773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-11389293413061327582009-09-19T19:58:00.000-07:002009-09-19T20:21:35.257-07:00Sickness..<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8UdV-SEmvT2RnzbT2hsjgwV-qTktdjc2CVGWIcW0nYPK7ZFHCxF9jtS-a8BllNZZjNk79Q7IkCsMReTlpX3av_Y26_gfbFdYGMdVGlT0a8BLPK2JjraH0mz8XFNxyxqAQt6Jw/s1600-h/sick_by_meppol.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8UdV-SEmvT2RnzbT2hsjgwV-qTktdjc2CVGWIcW0nYPK7ZFHCxF9jtS-a8BllNZZjNk79Q7IkCsMReTlpX3av_Y26_gfbFdYGMdVGlT0a8BLPK2JjraH0mz8XFNxyxqAQt6Jw/s320/sick_by_meppol.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383379657120332706" /></a><br /><div>What do you do when you can't walk or sit without feeling an indescribable pain?</div><div><br /></div><div><i>=yingoying=</i></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261612869161530773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-31741190924352247242009-09-19T08:11:00.000-07:002009-09-19T08:57:41.824-07:00Ipoh mari!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI1be9IKSigKhX0zEmVN_YtANc0KjaBHUA4V2MUpP4cgTKClJcyQvq6qvQHRR4L5F6gwL6SQb1eA7eCqQLBFSBrjqX0eDZ4j99BPgFL3hk_gYhJYmd54VKVY0JZBBv1XDc3b7A/s1600-h/ipoh-map-big.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI1be9IKSigKhX0zEmVN_YtANc0KjaBHUA4V2MUpP4cgTKClJcyQvq6qvQHRR4L5F6gwL6SQb1eA7eCqQLBFSBrjqX0eDZ4j99BPgFL3hk_gYhJYmd54VKVY0JZBBv1XDc3b7A/s320/ipoh-map-big.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383197916939151890" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b>Ipoh, here I come! It has been ages since I've last traveled anywhere (ok. not true. I just went to Kuantan about 2 weeks or so ago?), so I decided to join my parents to Ipoh tomorrow til Monday. Ipoh, as you most probably know, is smacked right in the centre of peninsular Malaysia. Almost. :) Two things I like about Ipoh:</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b>1. The bean sprout chicken rice (nga choy kai)</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b>2. The many white-washed colonial buildings in the city</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b>Well, to tell the truth, there's nothing that special about Ipoh's chicken rice. It's like any other chicken rice in Malaysia. The special thing about it is its trademark. :) As for the buildings, there are nothing special about them either. It's just that, I felt a sense of appreciation whenever I looked at em. </b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b>haha. Call me nuts, but I just love em! Happy holidays!</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b>=yingoying=</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><b><br /></b></span></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261612869161530773noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-10819010778621086392009-07-20T22:39:00.000-07:002009-07-20T22:59:28.814-07:00Highly do not recommend Korean BBQ Chicken at Jaya Onesick to the max. Since I was going to have lunch alone today, I decided to have something nice and pricey. At first, I went to Wendy's at Jaya One. But the queue was rather long, so I decided to go somewhere else. I was walking and walking and came to this Korean BBQ Chicken opposite starbucks. I looked at the menu, it's a bit pricey, but it is said to be the No1 BBQ Chicken chain or something like that in Korea. So I thought, well, just give it a try. I went in, found a table and sat down. On my laptop and tried to get connected to the net. No connection. ok. -1 point. I sat there waiting for 5 mins and nobody came to give me the menu. So i waved at a waitress. She looked at me, and then looked away. Ok. I didn't know I look so pathetic that nobody wana serve me. Waved at another waitress. She asked me to wait and then brought me the menu. OK. I looked thru the menu and ordered a chicken drumstick with i-don't-know-what sauce and french fries. Wanted to place my order, but nobody wana come to take my order, til 5 mins later. ok. I was really pissed already at that time. The price is quite high, but this kinda service? Waited 15 mins with an empty stomach and longing for the food. At last, it arrived on the table 15 mins after. I started cutting the chicken and tasted it. Not bad. It tasted a little like the chicken they sell at pasar malam satay stalls. And it's rather smooth. So I thought, alright, I will forgive them for the bad service coz the food isn't bad. I ate half the chicken and started cutting up another slice. !@#$%^&*(). I was so busy eating I didn't notice the meat because it was all covered up with a dark brown sauce. OMG. The meat was pink in color and it was shiny! Yes, it's RAW. I ate half a raw drumstick and didn't realize it.... no wonder it was so smooth and shiny. the more i cut it, the shinier it became. I wiped away the sauce to have a better look at it. OMG. It is 100% raw! Out of my mind, i waved for a waitress. She came, and I told her bout it. She asked me to wait. 1,2,3...4..................5.....................6......................... 7mins.....she was gone for that long and didn't reappear. Then, suddenly, she appeared with a few bowls in her hands and started serving another table without looking at me! omg. -100 points. I was enraged. Took my handbag and laptop and walked to the counter. Found another waitress and complained about it to her. she asked me to go to my table and wait. another 3 mins sitting there looking at the raw food. Then she came. She said she will change my dish. I said no. i cannot eat chicken anymore. "Do you have fish? or anything more cooked?" (coz i saw they have fish fillet or something on their menu). She said, "No. We only have chicken.". What kinda waitress is that? She doesn't know what they have in their menu? I said ok. I don't wana eat anything anymore. Then she asked me want now? I was like excuse me, aren't u supposed to pay me just in case I get sick? But of course I didn't say that. Being an idiotic person, I said watever, I will pay but I don't wana eat anything anymore from here. She took the plate away and went to the counter. I followed her. I paid and then asked her where the manager is. She said the manager is very busy now. "Is there a complaint form?" . "No". "anyone else in charge i can complain to?". "You can complain to me". What the.... Then, I suddenly saw a guy with a name tag walking pass us. I asked her if he is the manager. "Yes". Ok. He wasn't doing anything. He was just walking. And I assume to malaysians, that's considered as being busy? pfft. So i was i wana talk to him. She called for him. I complained to him about everything, how i got the raw meat, complained about it but the waitress just walked away and all. Believe it or not, he didn't even smile to me or utter a "sorry". Ok. Nvm. I said just take note of that and don't repeat the same mistake. I told him that and walked out to the opposite starbucks to detox. After all the things i've been thru, I had to pay RM17.50. If I crave for a raw chicken so much, I could've bought a whole raw chicken for that price (and a fat one too!). Too bad I didn't have a camera with me, or else I would've snapped a picture of the raw meat and posted it everywhere. Please, I urge you...never ever go to that resto. Highly NOT recommended!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<div><br /></div><div>=yingoying=</div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261612869161530773noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-63658180987123537732009-07-05T23:06:00.000-07:002009-07-06T00:54:34.525-07:00Fear...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJsTM2cTCfupJk7zkXSUMaK3EFkX_x4NnPsNcjiJVbgSXEZWdBGcaBMxppQhFsxBATa0GIt9JECd7Etz5VdZtNrwH8fNeIEApG3QkeDVILNcTEPbTj2B9Cql3pBWKle0PoQ3-o/s1600-h/IMGP7820.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJsTM2cTCfupJk7zkXSUMaK3EFkX_x4NnPsNcjiJVbgSXEZWdBGcaBMxppQhFsxBATa0GIt9JECd7Etz5VdZtNrwH8fNeIEApG3QkeDVILNcTEPbTj2B9Cql3pBWKle0PoQ3-o/s320/IMGP7820.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355240818932896930" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><i>Fear. </i></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><i>What do you understand about fear? </i></span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#000099;"><b><i>Fear to me is like diving deep into an unknown world,</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#000099;"><b><i>a space so close, yet unfamiliar.</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#000099;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#336666;">A string of events have taken place lately. I went to Perhentian, came back, registered as an MA student, and started searching for a suitable job like crazy. Life cannot get more challenging than what I am facing now! The new semester will start this coming Thursday and I doubt that I will get any job at all. The feeling is like a shift from childhood to adulthood overnight. Everything is so vague. My future seems so bleak...</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#336666;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#336666;"><b> I still remember the moment I jumped down a pier at Perhentian early in the morning. It was so dark and all around me, a gigantic group of fishes were swimming and starring at me as if I had invaded their territory. On one hand, the scene was picturesque. On the other hand, it was intimidating. What if the fishes attacked me? What if there was something hidden under the wrecks found there, deep in the water? Everything was so beautiful and amazing, but there was a fear inside of me to reach out for anything. </b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#336666;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#336666;"><b> Just like my fear for what's buried deep in the ocean, I have strong fear of the unseen before me. What will happen to me in weeks to come? and months, and years? Sometimes, I am so overshadowed by worries and fears that I unconciously forget to place everything in God's hands so that He can provide for me. I always remind others not to worry about tomorrow, but I rarely live up to my words. </b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#336666;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#336666;"><b> What can I say about fear? What can you say about fear?</b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#336666;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">=yingoying=</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#336666;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';color:#336666;"><b> </b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#000099;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#000099;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#000099;"><b><br /></b></span></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12261612869161530773noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-24553346151685491292009-06-04T21:05:00.000-07:002009-06-04T21:57:05.909-07:00silence kills..<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCMdUerEYGXMVxweE7L-1XkcEuxUmzq53QKqyfsb5d8uqFaXRka-tT2JpbwlM0vDTvluRUGMdnJLb_50dWBomRTsCoW3MCewO-SdrR_5wLpxPdlM_I5tMx45j1iELpxq4vaXyE/s1600-h/a641f9db6f157775d1164ee2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCMdUerEYGXMVxweE7L-1XkcEuxUmzq53QKqyfsb5d8uqFaXRka-tT2JpbwlM0vDTvluRUGMdnJLb_50dWBomRTsCoW3MCewO-SdrR_5wLpxPdlM_I5tMx45j1iELpxq4vaXyE/s320/a641f9db6f157775d1164ee2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343690239450165458" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-family: verdana; ">Silent treatment. Many times, we practice this on the people around us without knowing the greatness of its effect. We think of it as something casual, something cool when we feel upset and discouraged to enter into a conversation. Nothing is wrong with that. At least, nothing is wrong until the silent treatment makes a U-turn and befalls upon us. Unknowingly, it creeps up behind us and stabs us at the back when we least expect it. Like a murderer, it strangles us, suffocates us until there's nothing we could do anymore...until, there's no breath left in us..no will to go on..no lights to shine on our paths...no nothing..just pure silence. </span><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">=yingoying-</span></span></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-22482924906367074322009-06-04T00:09:00.000-07:002009-06-04T00:54:05.082-07:00What hurts the most....is when you hurt someone so much you know things will just never be the same again no matter what anyone says. Peace out.Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-56417337415268690862009-04-28T06:55:00.000-07:002009-04-28T07:44:00.834-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvfUL4RGqzIMW2dEGAgVLo5SZcyXzuyPE_t9g9ctO5IVaBw6ezma9Gc8znHsIGohP7_0jdrfXHiVClmU8B-vNIGyKyJk_ru-QRc9-ftHK-9NGALSZYaNPG8tnEz-23QKoX71y7/s1600-h/Mizuho___Onegai_Teacher_by_littledeshu.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 221px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvfUL4RGqzIMW2dEGAgVLo5SZcyXzuyPE_t9g9ctO5IVaBw6ezma9Gc8znHsIGohP7_0jdrfXHiVClmU8B-vNIGyKyJk_ru-QRc9-ftHK-9NGALSZYaNPG8tnEz-23QKoX71y7/s320/Mizuho___Onegai_Teacher_by_littledeshu.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329743533045098626" /></a>It's been a few days after my last paper, but i'm still working like crazy. argh! Who would have thought that I am giving private tuition now? lol. it;s not exactly what I thought it would be. lotsa work, lotsa preperation to do, and lotsa unanswerable questions. argh. y did i sign myself up for this????<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>+yingoying+</div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-21496956065717984022009-04-07T03:15:00.000-07:002009-04-07T03:22:13.558-07:00Heart or a Higher Calling?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlw-nLW3Cb-mF0ixre1MU_mtk9lvhDhViu9Nf7a6usthJpISNvCaTWl0vM_XEhg9sJ9OBl1KkKRs96cuYAdpb7HE2fchdUhlJmMVAcjuQIIne_lAGAINzIbA3LuKAo23_hrJdv/s1600-h/heart__by_snul.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlw-nLW3Cb-mF0ixre1MU_mtk9lvhDhViu9Nf7a6usthJpISNvCaTWl0vM_XEhg9sJ9OBl1KkKRs96cuYAdpb7HE2fchdUhlJmMVAcjuQIIne_lAGAINzIbA3LuKAo23_hrJdv/s320/heart__by_snul.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321891753249002738" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-family: courier new;">What should I listen to? My heart? Or a higher calling? Sometimes, life is full of contradictions. Why can't everything be clear cut? Why must there be so many intersections in life? Why is my heart always whispering to me, telling to go against my conscience?</span><br /></div><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-family: arial; font-style: italic;">=yingoying=</span>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-10562567191768559252009-03-30T05:09:00.000-07:002009-03-31T08:23:42.244-07:00Money or Dream?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdabuuduQEP8hoH0a0HMbZnwdEvzwkdcpBnULZHRDcF2G9o14cPN4OsFfT9fOshMmVLF4t7vUiDo91h0CGx-pxRk99NggtFhbJjL4tufoqLA80dJua9ZqYRJyujkqhiQm3ZZX/s1600-h/various.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 453px; height: 254px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdabuuduQEP8hoH0a0HMbZnwdEvzwkdcpBnULZHRDcF2G9o14cPN4OsFfT9fOshMmVLF4t7vUiDo91h0CGx-pxRk99NggtFhbJjL4tufoqLA80dJua9ZqYRJyujkqhiQm3ZZX/s320/various.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318956090516229922" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Two days ago, I was chatting with a friend when he mentioned that most of the time, you have to give up your dream to earn money for a living. I kinda gave some thoughts to that issue for these few days. Somehow, it seems so true. Maybe it's true for many of you out there. .. It could be true for me as well.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">I grew up believing that my dreams are never too far out of my reach. Honestly, they aren't so great. I want to become a teacher. An English Lit teacher. And I wana teach in African villages. Do something for the refugees, the children etc etc there. I wana have a farmhouse of my own, have a happy family living together with me there and doing God's will. Nothing too complicated for me. No gigantic mansions, private islands and jets, million of diamonds and those glorious things. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Now I'm starting to wonder. Maybe for someone like me who doesn't need to support anyone but herself, it's ok. But for someone who will need to support and feed a family, it might not be ok. If it is so, then life is truly unfair. How can I pursue my passion in literature when someone who has the same passion needs to sacrifice that dream to become a boring banker? Life is really full of oddities. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;">Think of it from this point of view. When you're 60, will u regret more if u have not shown your children the real values of life or if u have not gained enough money to send them to the best universities in the world? when you're 70, will u regret more if all your loved ones have left u to make more money or if you cannot save enough to buy a tiffany diamond ring for your wife?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0); font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;">=yingoying=</span><br /><br /></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-73909091676338559192009-03-28T08:55:00.000-07:002009-03-28T09:30:49.983-07:00Hooi Chin-Buci Bday celeb. Crazy nite!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3aOpQbiJK9kvXoVWk6dxjsxRcxHGU3nE5yPwfAYOWMguxA3714r5Og9mG_QOwwonJgQS9zGsQKo_q12r6AcWeLmXAM9NY2hphczbYBVNrEZdYxyLMToHcXrmadKaFasb2qyY/s1600-h/DSC01697.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX3aOpQbiJK9kvXoVWk6dxjsxRcxHGU3nE5yPwfAYOWMguxA3714r5Og9mG_QOwwonJgQS9zGsQKo_q12r6AcWeLmXAM9NY2hphczbYBVNrEZdYxyLMToHcXrmadKaFasb2qyY/s320/DSC01697.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318276914777239650" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRW4rf_weW-5NEAvdBGJ1CSb4gwGBBKZbkMCSw9IUeMtrZJzdtf69_b1yYzi3npwEmzXihQFvCDsXTCZHWO_paBgCC7qGHW1ZuzdMQrG9NFUhkVt5zxeDnrpYzy0Q9ZvD4TGYO/s1600-h/DSC01696.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRW4rf_weW-5NEAvdBGJ1CSb4gwGBBKZbkMCSw9IUeMtrZJzdtf69_b1yYzi3npwEmzXihQFvCDsXTCZHWO_paBgCC7qGHW1ZuzdMQrG9NFUhkVt5zxeDnrpYzy0Q9ZvD4TGYO/s320/DSC01696.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318276906437221714" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy5c4zdRZl_Ia4Wd3b__WdY1kBSGbDTni_b7UiRPCSy-iji4Qy04MMC0cZ75oZA4stKc9Bl49QSUYTw3zYRmD6c05Ipv366VJy7PRr1XV2CifEt7koGqJ1yQBYxQasMKvwlSKn/s1600-h/DSC01691.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy5c4zdRZl_Ia4Wd3b__WdY1kBSGbDTni_b7UiRPCSy-iji4Qy04MMC0cZ75oZA4stKc9Bl49QSUYTw3zYRmD6c05Ipv366VJy7PRr1XV2CifEt7koGqJ1yQBYxQasMKvwlSKn/s320/DSC01691.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318276902398447570" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdhlxa2Zpcu8UNetnuo07rgBOnb-ocN3tnzukyeRH54ak9KV-3WtkqDgDV1yzB6tdULPGt8p8ytyT30szSLUnVogR8o43hNJOjwd_ltDF9hW2lLz7QTOMxgd3UdTmmm5UaOSK-/s1600-h/DSC01680.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdhlxa2Zpcu8UNetnuo07rgBOnb-ocN3tnzukyeRH54ak9KV-3WtkqDgDV1yzB6tdULPGt8p8ytyT30szSLUnVogR8o43hNJOjwd_ltDF9hW2lLz7QTOMxgd3UdTmmm5UaOSK-/s320/DSC01680.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318271024894613122" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAFX7Fy2sfA8KDeBhZ3uBeyr6SSNMGmBITnb_X2H8fyrU3FlgnLK33gdE-BT1fAkuFu0e2rnq2WozG5fWjD_Gio7TkFDS2fvYEK6Fp5XE2-k27PbPw8K1hACwBf1HgxXNWFyF/s1600-h/DSC01677.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAFX7Fy2sfA8KDeBhZ3uBeyr6SSNMGmBITnb_X2H8fyrU3FlgnLK33gdE-BT1fAkuFu0e2rnq2WozG5fWjD_Gio7TkFDS2fvYEK6Fp5XE2-k27PbPw8K1hACwBf1HgxXNWFyF/s320/DSC01677.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318271022962397618" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3qgQkNpXKkWkLU_uYBnbVNCMcJUbgqYpBU6KCsSw79VlG2jBt5q6Y79AirTRicIxRJ_zWNL6v0a1li__kgA48EzNyVb0eNf3U394ZQ5NSb_HbAU17ACgOANlhXtPHm4-SxHqI/s1600-h/DSC01671.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3qgQkNpXKkWkLU_uYBnbVNCMcJUbgqYpBU6KCsSw79VlG2jBt5q6Y79AirTRicIxRJ_zWNL6v0a1li__kgA48EzNyVb0eNf3U394ZQ5NSb_HbAU17ACgOANlhXtPHm4-SxHqI/s320/DSC01671.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318271013698822306" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwmqMIwHlSD9JoewdkcKVYRa96in5BDhT6k0rbi9QwY8Q7ZavHEe24E_zTeSYDXgFYl81OssF0S5jU4PiV-bVQkcsIwb56fOc3gqDMWxTuX7CTbKQV4KjfvDZ5vB2zdXpmfMJ/s1600-h/DSC01665.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwmqMIwHlSD9JoewdkcKVYRa96in5BDhT6k0rbi9QwY8Q7ZavHEe24E_zTeSYDXgFYl81OssF0S5jU4PiV-bVQkcsIwb56fOc3gqDMWxTuX7CTbKQV4KjfvDZ5vB2zdXpmfMJ/s320/DSC01665.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318271010011412386" border="0" /></a>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-18807922270388454562009-03-28T04:00:00.000-07:002009-03-28T06:39:31.559-07:00Uncertainties...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsjGLQb8szN9hejyxcCpy_rGxB9qE7EPbPtdiud-cHWJsdFFitsRZA9NjCCExIO8prurZbd5rHGLjx_emt1Tz0lHt-nA1Y2Sz5kGUHLFQq_rNooi4UyFpM6jk4mB6Mdhd7vRE/s1600-h/n788692833_1544906_4204617.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsjGLQb8szN9hejyxcCpy_rGxB9qE7EPbPtdiud-cHWJsdFFitsRZA9NjCCExIO8prurZbd5rHGLjx_emt1Tz0lHt-nA1Y2Sz5kGUHLFQq_rNooi4UyFpM6jk4mB6Mdhd7vRE/s320/n788692833_1544906_4204617.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318192308093656226" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-family: webdings; font-weight: bold;">It's been 2 days since the play ended. I am relieved of course. No more rehearsals, no more studying the play, no more thinking of the movements and etc etc. I am finally at peace and have time to do things I have wanted to do for such a long time. I even went to catch Confession of a Shopaholic Baby at cineleisure just now. It's awesome having such freedom to watch such an entertaining movie. But somehow, it feels rather odd. Suddenly, it seems like I'm so unused to the idea of not having to worry about who will turn up for the rehearsals, where to hold em', whether the props are done or not, our fund for the whole production and etc etc. The feeling is so similar to how a mother feels when she is about to let go of her precious child who has grown up and is ready to set off to see the world. That feeling of having to let go of everything I've worked so hard for... </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-family: webdings; font-weight: bold;">I guess it's just human nature. When we have something, we do not appreciate it much. But when we don't possess it anymore, we long for it more. These few months have been really hard on me- lotsa precious time sacrificed, strength turned to weakness, tears shed unceasingly, multiple heart-breaks and disappointments. But on the other hand, I learned a whole lot more than what I've lost through this experience. And along the way, I've grown fond of so many extraordinary people whom I'll be missing from now on. So many precious memories, yet so little time to hold on to them...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0); font-family: webdings; font-weight: bold;">What will happen to me in the coming months? I have no idea. What will I do during the short break after the semester ends? Something meaningful, I hope. Will I continue to pursue my dreams at UM for another 2 years or so? Or should I let go of everything and start an adventure which I have anticipated for such a long time? What exactly do I want? What exactly is wanted of me?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); font-family: lucida grande;">=yingoying=</span><br /></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-88985844920492495782009-03-22T19:15:00.000-07:002009-03-22T19:47:56.810-07:00A brisk moment of letting go...<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66xH6UC2Fb2Ysa0Uum9ufqoDkHAjj3SCYi1wyznvzGeJY1bI4FgvNC_MEAJXlhD5tWj_9eoM7pw0cvSopmfNSy0Byf1vMzQ4V3w5_PGF39G1G0YeLYT4jpZANormsw6q2muKf/s1600-h/Reality_1440x900_by_pyxelated.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66xH6UC2Fb2Ysa0Uum9ufqoDkHAjj3SCYi1wyznvzGeJY1bI4FgvNC_MEAJXlhD5tWj_9eoM7pw0cvSopmfNSy0Byf1vMzQ4V3w5_PGF39G1G0YeLYT4jpZANormsw6q2muKf/s320/Reality_1440x900_by_pyxelated.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316201712199770754" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-family: arial;">Yesterday, I went for an audition for a spot in the T4YP (Theater 4 Young People) at KLPAC. I prepared a 2min monologue from Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet and a shortpart of Scene 8 from Kuo Pao Kun's Descendant of the Eunuch Admiral for the audition. Mind you, I was well prepared. But the moment i stepped into the room and saw the grumpy faces of most of the judges, my mind blacked out. All my perfect shakespeare's lines just evaporated into thin air. It was a moment of pure humiliation. All the judges looked at me, impatiently waiting for me to go on, but I just gave up. But, the second piece, the contemporary piece was pretty ok. One of the judges said it's a good choice. Overall, it's an embarassing but interesting experience. One question asked by one of the judges stayed on my mind long after it was all over. Why are you here? i didn't really know the answer to that question. I mean, I was definitely there for the audition. Why else would I be there? For some reason after the audition, I realized that I might be there for a reason. All the while I was directing the production at uni, I kept on assuming that all the actors could memorize all their lines if they are determined enough, and there shouldn't be any problem for that. But after my moment of humiliation yesterday, I totally understood how it feels like acting out in front of a real audience. The moment you get up there, you will have to try hard to remember your lines and try to move in a way that will attract the audience. Furthermore, with the tensed atmosphere and sharp eyes looking at you, it's just impossible for you not to feel super duper nervous. Because of that sudden realization, I freaked out and decided to prettend that I could run away from the rest of the rehearsals and escape from everything. I even changed my FB status to "flee to singapore tomorrow" just to feel as if I could actually escape from everything. Yeppers. I was that desperate to flee. Just to feel that brisk moment of letting go is heaven... </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-family: arial;">But I deep inside that I can never just let go of everything. Even if I flee, I'll still worry about everything. What's the point of fleeing then? It will just be like Zheng He- a man with high status and everything money can buy, but no real freedom. I could flee to Bora-bora or just any deserted jungle in Africa, but my heart would still be here, worrying about every single thing of the play- how the lighting should be, when the music should start, whether all the props are there bla bla. But still, to fell that brisk moment of freedom...such pure ecstacy.... </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">=yingoying=</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"></span></span><br /></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-56427105121270614142009-03-17T02:37:00.000-07:002009-03-17T02:42:28.422-07:00Updates on Descendants of the Eunuch Admiral<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUITrZUeBULssOAXOXG__PxEb80mTYRw_mrR6NThDvJFo7yort1KLpC-BoNZb96UcOJeiv8EOwC0pnimxPREPZ-Mu0_hbrwnAJSvS8VsDsR4gsbv78K904Fqb9JtMhBf9dpLQe/s1600-h/n788692833_1499464_3419181.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 247px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUITrZUeBULssOAXOXG__PxEb80mTYRw_mrR6NThDvJFo7yort1KLpC-BoNZb96UcOJeiv8EOwC0pnimxPREPZ-Mu0_hbrwnAJSvS8VsDsR4gsbv78K904Fqb9JtMhBf9dpLQe/s320/n788692833_1499464_3419181.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314089608654900786" border="0" /></a>Interested to watch the play? call 012-3819101 for more info!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglhRXKjMOBYPXdejhi1mmZ_P0JcLpzt3ZL_t9w_-08aGbFRhdnh64n_F2mY5TZi5X4efLuZLc7O-jjmBPYxoLaoyHEQC6LntuCboMxpG8UfHSDV44tEzNKhLKEr5lMuxQjBVyS/s1600-h/2624_57720668249_623153249_1601178_242306_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 160px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglhRXKjMOBYPXdejhi1mmZ_P0JcLpzt3ZL_t9w_-08aGbFRhdnh64n_F2mY5TZi5X4efLuZLc7O-jjmBPYxoLaoyHEQC6LntuCboMxpG8UfHSDV44tEzNKhLKEr5lMuxQjBVyS/s320/2624_57720668249_623153249_1601178_242306_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314089515652540386" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAkO038gEzdT1PU2rJkYUQLC_fIFCy4dFgpvlAakkIw3phzeAHpAZfS4qB-swC6yaF2FmpvAqs5NtvatNIkA3Jq77HQiBrSH8PyzvjMgIq0uW3XdgEwLiydKJ0jPFIo82fR5G/s1600-h/2624_57726198249_623153249_1601339_1074991_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRAkO038gEzdT1PU2rJkYUQLC_fIFCy4dFgpvlAakkIw3phzeAHpAZfS4qB-swC6yaF2FmpvAqs5NtvatNIkA3Jq77HQiBrSH8PyzvjMgIq0uW3XdgEwLiydKJ0jPFIo82fR5G/s320/2624_57726198249_623153249_1601339_1074991_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314089515908862898" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZ5eq9i9fjww-N9dWQ7IXZVV2uXTqDn6dPt6n7oYtdmN39OdcEyBcXMninF93f3W4a6NmBsOM5I_zmIY4ww7U0lQMTzJKj99O4tiWG1lbtHiLZmh5e0NHKKBOcm-a_ZxuFB_3/s1600-h/2624_58011668249_623153249_1607017_7749896_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; 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float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWYA8A12bBZ8rqNb8faba2aEql7SfbjiTG7_yjeRv_eR7-39ajJv9wu01NbD50_tTj_oAcom-tJZ7xo6Ak9B3AGyQtTn63HlfJIWaaRtckVqidkX4_eh92pTWCXRwIWDtn3ph/s320/2624_58011663249_623153249_1607016_6868200_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314089279886589186" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEislUyYrtdNpXNRKn53oGxm0N30vnzjjc-wyO1uM2DlVJ7HAOEoXzrg-YcpbZlAViOfeqDFzaEt2nBLNlDm1cq1DsDsDRirzp391xlAsIaRssIUkUR-xW8t3-t_LL3WiaKoQZ6B/s1600-h/2624_58011138249_623153249_1607009_5304755_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEislUyYrtdNpXNRKn53oGxm0N30vnzjjc-wyO1uM2DlVJ7HAOEoXzrg-YcpbZlAViOfeqDFzaEt2nBLNlDm1cq1DsDsDRirzp391xlAsIaRssIUkUR-xW8t3-t_LL3WiaKoQZ6B/s320/2624_58011138249_623153249_1607009_5304755_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314089266829933826" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0mNUjQBOgZqlppB3TPFio5tamq4Qgndau0Ih-AINZLkj1o1OD2iiY5sYSDL3RWTG32O8WnzY3A8RpNuj63wji-oIp2P64UbghiIyrnjKlhkpgG-yk93rwgWFiHTxfo3IBFAje/s1600-h/2624_58011128249_623153249_1607007_4012980_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0mNUjQBOgZqlppB3TPFio5tamq4Qgndau0Ih-AINZLkj1o1OD2iiY5sYSDL3RWTG32O8WnzY3A8RpNuj63wji-oIp2P64UbghiIyrnjKlhkpgG-yk93rwgWFiHTxfo3IBFAje/s320/2624_58011128249_623153249_1607007_4012980_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314089266220930482" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDIf57BtmSvSznOarDZi7xlFkrvHc6HLuzKQSdd24a0-gAP141JeHcU4c5CDdyCOsSEJQI5cwJbQ846o8W6Gx4vLE5zFwOi5q9kp3Nykc1hrwHNQO1TCiwTmDDzjkruKT0Vddb/s1600-h/2624_58011123249_623153249_1607006_78555_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDIf57BtmSvSznOarDZi7xlFkrvHc6HLuzKQSdd24a0-gAP141JeHcU4c5CDdyCOsSEJQI5cwJbQ846o8W6Gx4vLE5zFwOi5q9kp3Nykc1hrwHNQO1TCiwTmDDzjkruKT0Vddb/s320/2624_58011123249_623153249_1607006_78555_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314089262767335330" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuiEqarwaCBVKv6gm07A4aemWpu9W0o8w9X1GMAcJbsU7SEyHplIROin6TUXL4qSnh0dpFJvsvjrpHCMd2MOTlYKjGP-v1yqQHCYrapjCvIiH88LLzyzlBQlIhhhBy1j44Thwy/s1600-h/2624_58011133249_623153249_1607008_1346816_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuiEqarwaCBVKv6gm07A4aemWpu9W0o8w9X1GMAcJbsU7SEyHplIROin6TUXL4qSnh0dpFJvsvjrpHCMd2MOTlYKjGP-v1yqQHCYrapjCvIiH88LLzyzlBQlIhhhBy1j44Thwy/s320/2624_58011133249_623153249_1607008_1346816_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314089040637618850" border="0" /></a>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-16085792371296067802009-03-12T01:18:00.000-07:002009-03-12T01:24:00.136-07:00Descendants of the Eunuch Admiral<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3HRvKQYGJhVfWolDnk6Z5XN-bGESglVGqIJXANeQ-BWbcG2LHQWBQhgBy-jP7GeqtUlmmWOCJrhtpW4xGwdB0xUIovCBbsRtVosXyy07UDKCSLoWP64A1Kch1gr-dnd4hrIl/s1600-h/he1ZhengHeHIRES.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3HRvKQYGJhVfWolDnk6Z5XN-bGESglVGqIJXANeQ-BWbcG2LHQWBQhgBy-jP7GeqtUlmmWOCJrhtpW4xGwdB0xUIovCBbsRtVosXyy07UDKCSLoWP64A1Kch1gr-dnd4hrIl/s320/he1ZhengHeHIRES.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312212970754199042" border="0" /></a>The students of the Performance Strategy in the Western Theater of the University of Malaya will be presenting a play by Kuo Pao Kun titled Descendants of the Eunuch Admiral at Perdanasiswa, UM, on the 25th and 26th of March at 7pm. The same play will be staged on both days.<br /><br />Descendants of the Eunuch Admiral tells the story of Zheng He or Cheng Ho, the famed Eunuch Admiral of the Ming dynasty. The play is a blend of little episodes of Zheng He's life and the true identity of a eunuch in the ancient China. Moving from Zheng He's castration to his attaining of fame, his adventures and explorations to his search for freedom, The Descendants of the Eunuch Admiral is a sophisticated, humorous, and thought-provoking work.<br /><br />ATTN: Ideal for those searching for the missing parts of their lives.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);">Tickets sell at RM3 each. To obtain the tix, kindly contact 012-3819101 or email yingoying@gmail.com for more information. Get the tix ASAP before they are sold out and don't forget to invite your friends to tag along! </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Dates: 25 and 26 March</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Time: 7pm-9pm</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Venue: Perdanasiswa, University of Malaya</span> <br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=University+of+Malaya%2C+Jalan+Universiti%2C+PJ%2C+Petaling+Jaya%2C+Malaysia (map to Uni of Malaya)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">http://www.um.edu.my/discover_um/find_us/campus_map.php?intPrefLangID=1& (map to Perdanasiswa at UM)</span><br /><br /><br /><table style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" id="Contact Info" class="profileTable info_table" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody><tr><td class="label">Phone:</td> <td class="data"><div class="datawrap">60123819101</div></td></tr> <tr><td class="label">Email:</td> <td class="data"><div class="datawrap"><a href="mailto:yingoying@gmail.com">yingoying@gmail.com</a></div></td></tr></tbody></table>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-47778692129721070132008-12-29T23:12:00.000-08:002008-12-31T22:01:39.121-08:00.A lil' bit of adventure.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJAr2p7BiwRYETIFtbaepgplrkuidFkV7ErEcX-UAdHoJMp1O8sq3huVfIiw0ODtMzY6-ec8zRbHyINiedvDVnTk3ZUGJAxKCnhnwCJSFXy73fmV8ZxilrhFHpHaiVeLcqrQWI/s1600-h/n673491291_1636302_3721.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJAr2p7BiwRYETIFtbaepgplrkuidFkV7ErEcX-UAdHoJMp1O8sq3huVfIiw0ODtMzY6-ec8zRbHyINiedvDVnTk3ZUGJAxKCnhnwCJSFXy73fmV8ZxilrhFHpHaiVeLcqrQWI/s320/n673491291_1636302_3721.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285611500567820450" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">I've always thought of myself as being adventurous. I've traveled to the most outrageous places on earth, tasted the oddest delicacies and done many things nobody would've ever thought of doing. But yesterday, I got a taste of being anti-adventurous. I went out for a lil' bit of an adventure with my pal, Trevor a few days ago. He successfully made me do many things I have never done before- doing lil silly actions, going to places I've never dared to enter, walking halfway across the city etc etc. I can't believe that I actually hesitated doing all that although I've labeled myself as "adventurous" all this while. Maybe the time I spend on facebook and locking myself in the house has taken away the wild-crazy me. I still remember the time when I was so carefree I would try just about anything (with the exception of booze, drugs and the likes). But as I grew up, things changed... I changed. That's one of the reasons I have always been afraid of growing up. You'll never know who you are going to transform into. You can never see the future. Many plans might not work out. I'm glad I went out to the lil adventure with Trev. It kinda rejuvenated me in some ways. As I stood on top of KL tower, looking down at the beautiful KL city at the strike of midnight, I have made two resolutions: cut down on facebook and have more wild adventures! I gotta be me again! </span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier new; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">=Happy New Year 2009=</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: lucida grande; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 51, 255);">yingoying</span><br /></div></div></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-76339046752913956022008-12-26T09:43:00.001-08:002008-12-26T09:43:44.138-08:00.Sacrifices.<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">This Christmas season, we remember the greatest sacrifice ever made- God sending His only begotten Son to earth to die for each and everyone of us. Thinking of this sacrifice, it reminds me of the many sacrifices we have to make in order for us to continue with our lives. When we were young, everything was so simple. We dream of what we want, we aspire to achieve it and then, we try to work so hard to get it. But as we grow up, reality begins to hit. We realize that we don't always get what we wish for. And to make it worse, we have to make sacrifices for things that we have never planned for. Sometimes, I just wonder whether these sacrifices are worth it. Is it possible that in 50 years, we would look back and sigh with regret, "Why in the world have I wasted my life in doing that?" By then, reality has already hit big time. The grave would be calling out to u. No more turning back. Full stop. </span><br /></div><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: trebuchet ms;">=yingoying=</span>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-31842052123470548962008-06-30T23:12:00.000-07:002008-07-01T02:00:04.100-07:00::..Imperfection..::<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcM0pX9lggg0O-efRcI_vE2HefeyY-mftYnRfpt3NHjtfawz2nQ1QZe3CXMPYjK01UP_oxvrKJs2U34_Rxlrm4BKxGpDlZR8TgxIURUN8m2v5BVsJZdPn_Hs_u_dN2mtgSuyGn/s1600-h/Imperfection_by_XxRealityDeathWishxX.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcM0pX9lggg0O-efRcI_vE2HefeyY-mftYnRfpt3NHjtfawz2nQ1QZe3CXMPYjK01UP_oxvrKJs2U34_Rxlrm4BKxGpDlZR8TgxIURUN8m2v5BVsJZdPn_Hs_u_dN2mtgSuyGn/s320/Imperfection_by_XxRealityDeathWishxX.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217928087896376802" border="0" /></a><b style="font-style: italic;font-family:webdings;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Never discourage anyone...who continually makes progress,</span></b><b style="font-style: italic;font-family:webdings;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> no matter how slow.</span></b><br /><b style="font-style: italic;font-family:webdings;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> ~Pluto<br /><br /></span></b><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-weight: bold;">It has been quite a century since I've last updated this blog.. or any other blogs that I have. Sometimes it makes me wonder why I even have so many blogs when I don't even have the tiniest inkling of updating even one. Well, from my personal observation of .. myself, I have discovered that this happens all the time mainly because of the anti-social word, "Imperfection". It is not rare for me to suddenly think of a crazily creative idea of some sorts which is worth mentioning to the world, but before I could even take up the pen (or touch the keyboard), I got nudged. Not by the ever famous MSN nudge, mind you. But by a biological nudge that injects the guilt of imperfection into my very veins- in seriously large doses! My hands, as if programmed, stop me from making a fool out of myself by writing something which is not even tiny-bee-wit close to perfection. Nothing is better than imperfection.Talk about being a perfectionist!<br /><br /> A few days ago, while trying to doze off in the car on my way to Pahang, I happen to have nothing better to do, so my mind just drifted off to some thoughts to occupy the slowly passing time (FIY it was burning hot at that time!). It kind of amazes me how my unconscious mind specifically chose the topic "Simulated Teaching" when that is exactly the issue I have been avoiding for a long long time. Trust me when I repeated <span style="font-style: italic;">long</span>. I wanted to write a perfect piece on my ST experience. If you have read any of the other posts concerning ST, you will know what I mean. Everyone has their unique experience on that course. To top that, they beautifully pointed out each and every moment of their ST experience in their own personal spaces. I didn't have that 'gift'. All I can be proud of is my short-term memory loss. The last time I met MR Lim at the 'bengkel', he asked me what I have learned from his class. I could only stare blankly at him. If there is even any blur cases in this world, I'm the most blur of them all. Everyone has their precious dignity. So, to protect mine, I have ruled out every chances of announcing myself as an imperfect blogger to the rest of the blogging community out there.<br /><br /> What I did not have the wisdom to realize earlier is the most crucial lesson I have learned from the ST course. It wasn't whether I was creative enough to create the most interesting set induction. It also wasn't whether I have the guts enough to try out a grammar activity to link the set induction to the 'while' stage through the 'pre' stage (although we spent a lot of time doing just that). Nor was it whether I was smart enough to carry out a 'while' activity which fits perfectly into the remaining time left after deducting the time allocated for the set induction, 'pre' and 'post' stages. I do not deny that all of the above are crucial for a real class, but they are not the most significant lesson I have learned from the ST course.<br /><br /> </span></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-weight: bold;">The most important lesson I have learned from all these lies in the word "Imperfection". Every week throughout the course, we kept on rushing (like hell) to try to impress our lecturer with the best lesson we could think of. It wasn't easy trying to stay up to the standard. We watched some being praised, while the others fell short of the expected glory. I wasn't exempted from the latter too. Many of us consciously or unconsciously broke down because of the imperfection that we assumed to be entitled to us. We started to feel nervous about the ugly monster in us, the monster which was threatening to break out into the world to show just how weak we were. Of that, I wasn't exempted from either. To be honest, I am a human being. And at large, I am a future teacher. As the saying goes, "Most (if not all) of the teachers are perfectionists" (if you are wondering where I quoted that from, I made it up). Week by week, we were given comments on the lessons we have conducted. There was never a comment perfect to the ears.<br /><br /> I would not have realized this important lesson I was talking about if I had not been blogging here. Unlike my ST classes, I have sooooo few comments here. Does it mean that my posts are too perfect for people to comment on? I don't think so. What I actually believe is that a lot of people just don't care enough to leave a line or two. So, what am I doing, complaining of the many comments I got from the ST course? "Check your grammar", "You are not teaching the language through this activity" and "This activity is very boring" are actually pointing out to me that I have not stopped learning. Yes, I am imperfect, but I am not lying dormant on the ground, wasting my life away. This imperfection has actually become my motivation for more progress. What better ways are there for me to see this imperfection than through the eyes of my lecturer and peers? Like our wise lecturer once said, "Teachers don't know everything". If everyone of us is perfect, what is left for us to learn from each other? Therefore, let this lesson of imperfection be a reminder for us to not stop encouraging each other as we step into the journey of teaching practice. Bon Voyage my friends!<br /><br />xoxo YingoYing<br /></span></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-weight: bold;"></span></span></div></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-78344517704028252942008-04-22T00:08:00.000-07:002008-04-22T00:31:16.504-07:00Random shots of Singapore<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi30R1UpE_kxD0rAB4QN2zWvvCxq7yBM30chKccJcDCgyuWWU-OoUUeW-R4y_f8LHrO7cosL1l_CjWz1XIrq3Vw4xeg_P29wwILuaCEtHWAbAeUY9MNefrhzoXxJtxSO1A4H0VY/s1600-h/IMGP4176.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191967388277253474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi30R1UpE_kxD0rAB4QN2zWvvCxq7yBM30chKccJcDCgyuWWU-OoUUeW-R4y_f8LHrO7cosL1l_CjWz1XIrq3Vw4xeg_P29wwILuaCEtHWAbAeUY9MNefrhzoXxJtxSO1A4H0VY/s320/IMGP4176.JPG" border="0" /></a> <em><span style="color:#993399;">This little work of art in front of the Fullerton Hotel has undoubtedly defeated the majesty of the magnificent hotel at its background.</span></em></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMATgdJ9Q8s6aZ2ZwocmDB1Km_VrpfSXMMI6fH0-azlVx4nymLtU3MQQ7P4MYHs3YVYYKRYX2-7aoj5iF6Cnf6-SWjDmkWJKmNqimzRhLPV9S9FwhNnTcM8OXd3yj56nEbf_dH/s1600-h/IMGP4171.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191966434794513746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMATgdJ9Q8s6aZ2ZwocmDB1Km_VrpfSXMMI6fH0-azlVx4nymLtU3MQQ7P4MYHs3YVYYKRYX2-7aoj5iF6Cnf6-SWjDmkWJKmNqimzRhLPV9S9FwhNnTcM8OXd3yj56nEbf_dH/s320/IMGP4171.JPG" border="0" /></a> <em><span style="color:#993399;">A boat ride through a calm river in a busy city..</span></em></div><div align="center"><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYP1CAbrJJE2ZcN5HhzA88PELgvZhJAFcI33Snsk8yjo6blJGXWxDZL5QFNRXymh6ejxifGt32PBkEcX_yaIb4JUWDPa-OTaJATnLzWltNkGUWmrtrVM-YKQ6CN5BfNx47gly5/s1600-h/IMGP4166.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191965455541970242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYP1CAbrJJE2ZcN5HhzA88PELgvZhJAFcI33Snsk8yjo6blJGXWxDZL5QFNRXymh6ejxifGt32PBkEcX_yaIb4JUWDPa-OTaJATnLzWltNkGUWmrtrVM-YKQ6CN5BfNx47gly5/s320/IMGP4166.JPG" border="0" /></a> <em><span style="color:#993399;">I just love this!</span></em></div><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0TsJJRT9QZ64So-j5moRykUWtfFoAuJseae-INrMLhPz8Iqv1gI6DJMOl0L1xtuNzaih9ygVgdF7REsfoRxDQOgh-kqXgQxWRORTBBzj9x5AAaooyt2cc7pc-eLMvJ_EyAVID/s1600-h/IMGP4184.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191964635203216690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0TsJJRT9QZ64So-j5moRykUWtfFoAuJseae-INrMLhPz8Iqv1gI6DJMOl0L1xtuNzaih9ygVgdF7REsfoRxDQOgh-kqXgQxWRORTBBzj9x5AAaooyt2cc7pc-eLMvJ_EyAVID/s320/IMGP4184.JPG" border="0" /></a> <em><span style="color:#993399;">The famous Merlion and the infamous...Me..</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0cAiUC9kdsDzAnKXVkwgujuHPcdp6HfmlaqSjtGaruO_uQuQRAec8pU8C7sqEFuijpnFC-rOi3CZpGStAQGHC6h05Ms_Y6af54cLR3a-xzmWrjs_5Y9WYXP_ThnN71vjkwTUi/s1600-h/IMGP4212.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191963698900346146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0cAiUC9kdsDzAnKXVkwgujuHPcdp6HfmlaqSjtGaruO_uQuQRAec8pU8C7sqEFuijpnFC-rOi3CZpGStAQGHC6h05Ms_Y6af54cLR3a-xzmWrjs_5Y9WYXP_ThnN71vjkwTUi/s320/IMGP4212.JPG" border="0" /></a> <em><span style="color:#993399;">3 crazy girls doing their thing at Bugis...</span></em></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><strong><span style="color:#993399;">Wish I could post more pics but time does not allow it. if u guys wana see more pics of my trip, check out my album at facebook. Muaks!</span></strong></div><div align="justify"> </div><strong><span style="color:#993399;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="color:#993399;"></span></strong></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="color:#993399;">xoxo</span></strong></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="color:#993399;">yingoying</span></strong></div><div align="center"></div></div>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8182402.post-44670535988576899812008-04-21T23:46:00.000-07:002008-04-22T00:06:55.121-07:00Trying damn hard to get myself grounded on reality!<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"><strong>It has been a while since I've last said "hi" to anyone at all. So here goes... Hi everyone! I'm back! Well I wouldn't say exactly that I'm back heart, mind and soul coz I somehow think that I'm still not totally back here. I've been pretty far from reality these past few weeks. I so want to blame it all on the "end" of all my classes. To make an outburst, "This is so </strong></span><a href="mailto:!@#$%"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"><strong>!@#$%</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"><strong> great that I can start to enjoy myself!!!" Well, I did kind of enjoyed myself too much til I flew away from reality for a while. I wanted to start my blogs on my simulated teaching thingy but as soon as my last class ended, I started a movie marathon! A few days after that, I went on a vacation to Singapore. It was really fun! I felt totally like a new person there, without any worries at all. It's as if I was a spirit looking at people rushing here and there without any smiles on their grumpy faces. But I could for once sit there, look at them, and smile...wow. I was in heaven! One thing I will never forget bout this trip is one instant when a tourist asked for my mum and I to pose for a picture. lol. We were like holding an umbrella somewhere near Esplanade and this stranger wanted to take out pic! haha. I was there in Singapore for 4 days. And now here am I, sulking that I am back here facing reality-the exams coming up soon! gosh. I so don't wana study yet. I'm still in my vacation mood... but what can I do? This is life... I want so much to start my simulated teaching blog already but looking at my mood after raging through my notes on Confusianism, I doubt that it will be a wise thing for me to write it now. I will most probably just swear all my way through and that's so not my experience of the simulated teaching class! So for those who are reading this (I doubt there's any...LOL), I'll be getting back to u guys after my exams! Ciao!</strong></span></div><br /><br /><span style="color:#993399;">xoxo </span><br /><span style="color:#993399;">yingoying</span>Ying Yinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11727744073198833810noreply@blogger.com1