<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982</id><updated>2011-12-12T12:49:12.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Jaymie</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>62</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-1621821751985954659</id><published>2011-12-12T12:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T12:49:12.129+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another year</title><content type='html'>12th December 2011&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;2 more weeks, and it is going to be another year. Time flies so fast, or rather you feel it especially when you are older. 2011 hasn't been kind to mommy, sweetie. There are more sighs than wows, more tears than laughs. Coming to the end of the year, was hoping at least I could smile through Christmas, but... sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New year resolution? I don't know sweetie. Besides making the best for you and continue to be thankful, I guess I actually don't have much to look forward to right now. I am so glad i have you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Always proud of you and love you awful lots.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-1621821751985954659?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/1621821751985954659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/12/another-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1621821751985954659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1621821751985954659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/12/another-year.html' title='Another year'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3676423646711955198</id><published>2011-09-25T20:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T20:58:16.521+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gossip is Sin's Best Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:PunctuationKerning/&gt;   &lt;w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/&gt;   &lt;w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:Compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:BreakWrappedTables/&gt;    &lt;w:SnapToGridInCell/&gt;    &lt;w:WrapTextWithPunct/&gt;    &lt;w:UseAsianBreakRules/&gt;    &lt;w:DontGrowAutofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:BrowserLevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt; /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was watching a real cute movie called "Little Red Flowers" a few days ago. This movie talked about children, very young kids of 4 to 5 years old having to stay in a boarding school, how they were taken care of by the teachers, what were their daily activities, what did they learn from each other and how they play with each other. And every time they behaved or did well in a single task, they would get a red paper flower and would be displayed on the white board for everyone to see. So, if any boy or girl gets a lot of paper flowers, it would mean that he or she has behaved quite well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was interesting to see how the children learned discipline like washing hands after going to the toilet, raising their hands whenever they need to ask a question and so forth. They were also taught daily tasks such as unbuttoning and taking off their clothes on their own. But it is quite sad though to think that they had to live so far away from their mommies and daddies for such a long time in such a young age. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There was a particular part of the movie that I found rather ‘fascinating’ (in a way). It started when the class teacher, Miss Li was imitating the orangutan for the children to guest. By seeing her acting like an animal, one of the boys suddenly managed to form an idea in his head that Miss Li was actually a monster and would eat little children. He started whispering to a little next to him his thought. The next few days, the boy and the girl started to check other boys and girls if they have monster tails to make sure that they were not little monsters. They then started talking and fantasizing about the scary children eating monster teacher.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;One night, when the lights were off, the children decided to have a closer look at Miss Li who they suspected was a monster. They crawled quietly to the teacher’s bed and look at her nervously. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;The teacher suddenly woke up and frightened the children. They screamed and scampered back to their beds waking everybody up. The teachers were perplexed and confused with what was going on and one of the children told them that Miss Li was a monster. Miss Li was of course furious as she was definitely not a monster.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sweetie, you know what really happened there? It was gossip. It started with one little highly imaginative boy whispering to the little girl next to him. Then they started telling other boys and girls about the story, and every time they passed on the words, new things were added into it. In the end, it was all lies and Miss Li was made upset and hurt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A Swiss poet and theologian names Jahann Kaspar Lavater quoted, ‘Don't speak evil of someone if you don't know for certain, and if you do know ask yourself, why am I telling it?’&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt; I strongly agree.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Love you lots,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Mommy&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3676423646711955198?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3676423646711955198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/09/gossip-is-sins-best-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3676423646711955198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3676423646711955198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/09/gossip-is-sins-best-friend.html' title='Gossip is Sin&apos;s Best Friend'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-2273619127868278343</id><published>2011-09-08T12:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T12:57:46.147+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Enjoy being a kid, Sweetie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;8&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; September 2011&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was watching your photos and the children playing by the pool, it made me think how much I want to be at your age. You play, go to school, do homework, watch tv, play the Nintendo, meals would be readied on time and you don’t have to worry about it. The only worry is school exams and it comes only 4 times a year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There are times when I wish that you won’t grow up, sweetie. I hope you would be 9 every year and stay put in primary school. I hate to think of you having to worry about finding and staying in a job, mountains of bills to clear, dealing with car problems, house problems, bank problems and mostly people problems and their expectations of you, and they come almost every day. Sigh. It’s true, baby, but it is life and I can’t stop you from growing up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mommy wishes and prays for your happiness every night and hope you would grow up and be a lady and makes us all proud. But until then, enjoy your childhood, sweetie. I hope that when you are an adult, you would think back of your childhood with lots of smiles and laughter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Love you lots,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mommy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-2273619127868278343?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/2273619127868278343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/09/enjoy-being-kid-sweetie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2273619127868278343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2273619127868278343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/09/enjoy-being-kid-sweetie.html' title='Enjoy being a kid, Sweetie'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-170682217302854884</id><published>2011-08-25T05:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T05:42:29.198+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Ears &amp; Sensible Mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:PunctuationKerning/&gt;   &lt;w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/&gt;   &lt;w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:Compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:BreakWrappedTables/&gt;    &lt;w:SnapToGridInCell/&gt;    &lt;w:WrapTextWithPunct/&gt;    &lt;w:UseAsianBreakRules/&gt;    &lt;w:DontGrowAutofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:BrowserLevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt; /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;	mso-style-noshow:yes;	mso-style-parent:"";	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;	mso-para-margin:0in;	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;	mso-pagination:widow-orphan;	font-size:10.0pt;	font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-ansi-language:#0400;	mso-fareast-language:#0400;	mso-bidi-language:#0400;}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;25&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; August 2011&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;I have been told that God has given me a good pair of ears, and a sensible head. I also have been given the talent of keeping secrets, so I have been told as well. A good pair of ears, meaning I am a good listener, apparently and a sensible head; I guess it would mean I think the right things. Well, maybe I have all those talents; if you could say they are; because I seem to have quite a number of people telling me their problems, agony, fear and whatever in their head, and, I don’t seem to mind. It sometimes surprises me that I actually have that kind of patience. They would talk and go on and on, and I would be listening for hours. I think it is partly because I don’t judge them and I seem to know the right things to say, most of the time. If not, I would just keep my mouth shut – silence is golden. Most importantly, I don’t tell and gossip. Well, it is their problem, not mine and 99% of the time it has nothing to do with me, so it is really none of my business.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;On the contrary (maybe unfortunately), it is quite opposite when comes to myself in this matter. Telling another person of my problems is really not my expertise. One of the things that I learned when growing up and when I am going through life is that, generally, people don’t really want to know about other people’s problems because they have their own set of problems to deal with. Also, one’s problem is always bigger than other people’s problem. And, some tell (tsk! tsk!). Sweetie, let’s not be like them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;So, what do I do? Suck it up, deal with them myself. If I don’t help myself, who will? Usually, I’ll cry a little and then try to think sensibly. Most of the time it works. There are times that the crying would take a longer time, but, my so-called sensible head above my shoulders would take over, eventually.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;You know what, sweetie? It actually would be nice to let it out once in a while, and followed by a big, warm hug. Having a friendly, loving face and someone to hold your hands would be quite comforting. This person would not need to say anything and might not be able to help solve the problems, but, it would warm the heart. Sweetie, let’s be this person. It would be rewarding to your heart and soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Love you and miss you lots&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mommy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-170682217302854884?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/170682217302854884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/08/good-ears-sensible-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/170682217302854884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/170682217302854884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/08/good-ears-sensible-mind.html' title='Good Ears &amp; Sensible Mind'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-7693846682751627237</id><published>2011-08-16T02:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T02:02:25.335+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grow up fast, Sweetie</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:PunctuationKerning/&gt;   &lt;w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/&gt;   &lt;w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:Compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:BreakWrappedTables/&gt;    &lt;w:SnapToGridInCell/&gt;    &lt;w:WrapTextWithPunct/&gt;    &lt;w:UseAsianBreakRules/&gt;    &lt;w:DontGrowAutofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:BrowserLevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt; /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;	mso-style-noshow:yes;	mso-style-parent:"";	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;	mso-para-margin:0in;	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;	mso-pagination:widow-orphan;	font-size:10.0pt;	font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-ansi-language:#0400;	mso-fareast-language:#0400;	mso-bidi-language:#0400;}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;16&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; August 2011&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You know what, sweetie, today is the loneliest I’ve felt in my almost 40 years of life. I have so much to say to some one dear, there’s so much in my mind I want to say it out loud, so much to share. I want so much to have someone to listen for hours, till the night turns day. Guess what? I actually have none. Friends? They are friends, they have only a certain amount of time that they can spare. No matter how many good ones I have, they are friends, not that I am not thankful though, but in actual fact, it is not the same. When I come back home everyday, it’s just me. Cupcake is a cat, sweetie… if she can talk. I have the tv on, the radio is on the highest volume sometimes, cook a great deal, do chores, mop the whole house, write 20 pages of stories, anything at all to kill time… they just don’t do much. Today, a long warm hug is worth more than a million bucks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This is the time when silence has lost its golden ray.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sweetie, please grow up fast, be with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mommy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-7693846682751627237?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/7693846682751627237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/08/grow-up-fast-sweetie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/7693846682751627237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/7693846682751627237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/08/grow-up-fast-sweetie.html' title='Grow up fast, Sweetie'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-1845100663876567434</id><published>2011-08-12T12:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-12T12:03:46.127+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't even talk about the weather</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:PunctuationKerning/&gt;   &lt;w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/&gt;   &lt;w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:Compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:BreakWrappedTables/&gt;    &lt;w:SnapToGridInCell/&gt;    &lt;w:WrapTextWithPunct/&gt;    &lt;w:UseAsianBreakRules/&gt;    &lt;w:DontGrowAutofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:BrowserLevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt; /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;	mso-style-noshow:yes;	mso-style-parent:"";	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;	mso-para-margin:0in;	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;	mso-pagination:widow-orphan;	font-size:10.0pt;	font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-ansi-language:#0400;	mso-fareast-language:#0400;	mso-bidi-language:#0400;}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;12&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; August 2011&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Do you know what it means by “Silence is golden?” I think I did tell you, but anyway, for me it means, you don’t need to talk all the time and sometimes it is better to keep quiet. Yes, especially when you have nothing else better to say, it is best that you remain silent. Why? Well, it is because of several reasons. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For a good one, sometimes, we need some quiet moments. Yes, sweetie, like mommy. Mommy loves her quiet time for her reading and thinking. But, it doesn’t mean that you should leave the room. I love to have you holding my hands, hugging me. It is always a pleasure to lie lazily on the bed together like we always do, enjoying these precious moments and we need not talk or make a sound. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sometimes, in some not very harmonious situations, it is better to keep absolutely quiet as you could say the wrong thing, make not very good statements that could aggravate the delicate situations which may lead to a major blow up in tempers. Yes, we human beings are quite unpredictable and not everyone has the ability to keep their tempers in-check. Don’t even talk about the weather. However, as human beings are also filled with ego and pride, they just can’t take a back seat. More often, they just want to have the last word or just have to be heard. But trust me, sweetie, sometimes you would say more or make better statements by not saying a word. An oxymoron? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Well, sweetie, it simply means, look at the situation and see how the people around you are behaving. Then, talk when you have to and need to, and don’t force a conversation. Being too chatty and trying to be too friendly is sometimes not a good thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Love you lots,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mommy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-1845100663876567434?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/1845100663876567434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/08/dont-even-talk-about-weather.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1845100663876567434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1845100663876567434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/08/dont-even-talk-about-weather.html' title='Don&apos;t even talk about the weather'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-9027514350409035686</id><published>2011-08-05T04:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-05T04:30:44.478+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Your Birthday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;5&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; August 2011&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;Pumpkin baby, Happy-happy Birthday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;Time flies really fast, and here you are a big girl today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;9 is a big number, and next year it’s going to be 2 digits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;So sweetie, with all your heart, you got to enjoy it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;It makes me smile when you told me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;You’re gonna have friends over for your birthday party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;We had a great moment, making the birthday invitations,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;Finding the right colour papers, and how the words should be written.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;Mommy wishes you all the best wishes, and may God blesses you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;I love you with all my heart, and I pray that you know this is true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;Happy Birthday, Jaymie darling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mommy love you lots and lots.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-9027514350409035686?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/9027514350409035686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-your-birthday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/9027514350409035686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/9027514350409035686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-your-birthday.html' title='It&apos;s Your Birthday!'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-8112677110115097731</id><published>2011-07-18T21:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-24T21:51:41.091+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mind Your Manners</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;18&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; July 2011&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;It has been a long while that I bumped into people at work or in the same project that was extremely rude. It so happened that I met one during my last project. Dealing with this kind of people is always daunting as it tests one’s patience and sometimes it could make you lose your temper. It always puzzles me as how anyone could forget to mind his or her manners. And, what does he or she hope to achieve out of being rude? Personally, it makes me think how this person was brought up and it disgraces the parents and other family members. Doesn’t matter if you are a boy or a girl, how old are you, whether if you are the boss or not. If you are rude, you are rude. No excuses whatsoever. I don’t have respect for this kind of people and I always try to stay away from them. Even when you are angry or agitated, it shouldn’t be a reason for you to be rude. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;That is why I always stress the importance of keeping your manners. Reminding you always to say hello, thank you, salam or shake hands, say good bye, good night, say sorry when you accidentally burped out loud and all the manners that everyone at home taught you since you were born. Never ever leave your manners at home. Never ever give anyone the reason to say that you are rude and have no manners. If you by any chance, accidentally behaved rudely to anyone, please apologize immediately. And if someone happens to be rude to you, please, do not retaliate. Take a deep breath, be calm and walk away. Yes, you would be angry, but there is really no point to waste your anger and energy over this person and the situation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I believe that I brought you up to be a good person with good manners and so far, mommy is very proud of you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #003399;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use" By Emily Post&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Love you lots,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mommy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-8112677110115097731?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/8112677110115097731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/07/mind-your-manners.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/8112677110115097731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/8112677110115097731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/07/mind-your-manners.html' title='Mind Your Manners'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-6454600084589966650</id><published>2011-06-19T21:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-19T21:35:16.169+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, It's Father's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:PunctuationKerning/&gt;   &lt;w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/&gt;   &lt;w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:Compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:BreakWrappedTables/&gt;    &lt;w:SnapToGridInCell/&gt;    &lt;w:WrapTextWithPunct/&gt;    &lt;w:UseAsianBreakRules/&gt;    &lt;w:DontGrowAutofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:BrowserLevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt; /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;19&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; June 2011&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today is Uncle Richard’s 41&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt; Birthday. Last year we were in Cherating celebrating his 40&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; birthday, and we had so much fun, didn’t we. And, today is Father’s Day as well. I had a sleepless night thinking how you would react.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I watched you talking to your daddy this morning, and I know how much you missed him. You were trying to hold your tears when it was time to put down the phone. It made my eyes teary too, sweetie. I remember last year you made a Father's Day card. You showed it to me and told me that you didn't know where to send it to. It broke my heart. But, we have moved on, haven’t we? He is still there, sweetie, you can always call him. It is your choice. No, I don’t know why he doesn’t call you instead. I don’t have the right answer and I don’t want to analyze this question. It won’t be right and fair to him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So far we are doing ok, right? Despite mommy struggling at work, everything seems to be under control. And, congratulations for bringing home all As except 1 B. Mighty proud of you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;Love you lots,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: purple; text-align: justify;"&gt;Mommy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-6454600084589966650?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/6454600084589966650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/06/yes-its-fathers-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6454600084589966650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6454600084589966650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/06/yes-its-fathers-day.html' title='Yes, It&apos;s Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-6850043743828574815</id><published>2011-04-28T14:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-28T15:45:47.638+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything Happens for a Reason</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0in;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ansi-language:#0400;  mso-fareast-language:#0400;  mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;28&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; April 2011&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Everything happens for a reason. This thought is constantly on my mind for many years, more so these few months. There must be a reason, there has to be a reason. There must be a reason why I have to go through what I’m going through now. Maybe God wants me to remember humility. Maybe He wants me to remember not to get lazy and comfortable, to know what my priorities are. Maybe He wants to remind me that I can’t have everything I want and should be thankful of what I already have in life and be happy and content about it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Funny, it reminded me of my visit to the fengshui master back in December last year. Master reminded me repeatedly to be good to myself first, for a start. “How could you make other people around you happy if you yourself are not happy?” Don’t get me wrong, sweetie. I’m not being superstitious or stopped believing in God. Master is far from being superstitious and does have a religion. It was a good visit, mainly because of the conversations that made a lot of senses and quite logical. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;“And… don’t be too stubborn, don’t chase for perfection”, he stressed. Yeah, that is my biggest setback. Everything needs to be perfect, like my bills payment schedule. I often get stressed up when bills are paid a day late or a cent short. End of the conversation, he told me this, “you know, God is always fair, either your God or my God… however you put it… you are not rich, struggling at work, you had bad relationships, your marriage didn’t work, but, you know what? God gave you health. He made you smarter than a lot of people (hehe, I take this as a compliment). He gave you a caring family and he gave you a daughter. Mind you, a lot of “rich” people don’t have this.” &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Yes, I am learning to “chill”, doesn’t matter if the circle, sometimes, is not perfect, and I am quite thankful for what I have now. Of course, I am still working hard hoping things would be more comfortable for both of us. Oh, mommy is quite happy, yes. I have found someone, in a way.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Love you lots,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;Mommy&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-6850043743828574815?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/6850043743828574815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/04/everything-happens-for-reason.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6850043743828574815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6850043743828574815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/04/everything-happens-for-reason.html' title='Everything Happens for a Reason'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-9196040112764532405</id><published>2011-03-04T15:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T15:12:19.686+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Dog Named Mac</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DQnRZcv010/TXCQary00SI/AAAAAAAAAIA/uG-ecc8RShc/s1600/IMG00957-20110301-1049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DQnRZcv010/TXCQary00SI/AAAAAAAAAIA/uG-ecc8RShc/s320/IMG00957-20110301-1049.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580118726418944290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HHVEfEutEo8/TXCQaqyppWI/AAAAAAAAAH4/1bq7e5XXN7Y/s1600/IMG00953-20110301-1048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HHVEfEutEo8/TXCQaqyppWI/AAAAAAAAAH4/1bq7e5XXN7Y/s320/IMG00953-20110301-1048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580118726149776738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;28th February 2011&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m in Tehpeng again. The last time I was here was back in November last year. You know, there is always a place where you come back again and again. A place where you  know that you are always welcomed and can be who you are. A place where you feel so comfortable and feels like home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, I’m at the ATV base, and there’s a new family member. A dog named Mac. As soon as I walked into the base, Mac was barking as a dog should do. Then, as I walked nearer he hid under the sofa. He was actually shy, or, maybe just scared of strangers like most of us are. How do I know? I guess it was from his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"&gt;&lt;span class="" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_JustifyFull" title="Justify Full" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 13);ButtonMouseDown(this);"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Justify Full" class="gl_align_full" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mac was a stray and happened to stray into the ATV base one fine day. Thank goodness the caretakers are all friendly and most importantly have compassionate hearts. It seems that Mac has been making himself useful both as a guide during the ATV rides and as a watch dog, chasing away the monkeys who have been a total nuisance!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, sometimes it puzzles me when an animal knows how to be thankful and some human beings don’t. I met quite a number of them throughout my “ahem” years of life and during a recent job, I encountered a few of them. It’s funny that when they needed your help, the sun and the moon were promised. And, in the end, they have forgotten how to be thankful and be civil. I guess money and pride took the top spots of their priority list. This is so unfortunate, for them, not me. So, I don’t find it weird to know that some people rather live with 10 dogs or cats and talk to them like human beings. I talk to Cupcake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This should be a good trip for me, I’m pretty sure of it. When the time is right, sweetie, I’ll introduce this place to you. And, I hope that you’ll find a sanctuary of your own. Everybody needs one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you awful lots,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;br /&gt;p.s. I saw a firefly :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-9196040112764532405?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/9196040112764532405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/03/dog-named-mac.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/9196040112764532405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/9196040112764532405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/03/dog-named-mac.html' title='A Dog Named Mac'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DQnRZcv010/TXCQary00SI/AAAAAAAAAIA/uG-ecc8RShc/s72-c/IMG00957-20110301-1049.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-2837511955564764859</id><published>2011-02-24T12:09:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T12:17:54.278+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Does Not Kill You Will Make You Stronger</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0in;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ansi-language:#0400;  mso-fareast-language:#0400;  mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;24&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; February 2011&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;I always think that there’s always a reason (or reasons) why things happen, why you went through incidents or events in life and the people that you met through them, be it good or bad. It is self motivation for me and life lessons. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;However, sometimes, it is easier said than done when it comes to incidents that are… how should I put it, unpleasant? The heart aches, I cry and feel that the whole world is against me, and, sometimes I question myself – “Why me? What have I done to deserve this? Why did they do this to me? Etc etc.” But then, after some moments or a day or two I would tell myself “there are always reasons why things happen”. It might be God telling me to not make the same mistakes again or to be careful and to stay away from certain people or just to be thankful. And, behind every cloud, there’s always a silver lining. A friend wrote on my FB wall – “what does not kill you will make you stronger.” So far, sweetie, I’ve prevailed. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;And, I’ve said it before, if you keep asking why, you’ll go crazy. Move on.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;Love you and miss you lots and lots,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"&gt;Mommy&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-2837511955564764859?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/2837511955564764859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/02/normal-0-false-false-false.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2837511955564764859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2837511955564764859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/02/normal-0-false-false-false.html' title='What Does Not Kill You Will Make You Stronger'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-4465168525014308702</id><published>2011-02-13T00:13:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T15:15:48.099+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Rabbit Year</title><content type='html'>12th February 2011&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable  {mso-style-name:"Table Normal";  mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;  mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;  mso-style-noshow:yes;  mso-style-parent:"";  mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;  mso-para-margin:0in;  mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;  mso-pagination:widow-orphan;  font-size:10.0pt;  font-family:"Times New Roman";  mso-ansi-language:#0400;  mso-fareast-language:#0400;  mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dear Jaymie.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"&gt;Gong Xi Fa Cai! Mommy wishes you good health, more laughter, more rainbows and presents and more As in the year of the rabbit. By the way, I hope you know that you were born in the year of the horse. Apparently, you are quite restless and active all the time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"&gt;Anyways, in this festive season, I’ve been getting wishes through my emails, FB and also SMSes. Glad that people actually remembers me and us. But then, I’ve  also  received messages from some people that I actually don’t want them to remember me, and I don’t want to remember them. As we go through life, we meet people along the way. Thank goodness for me, I can say that I met more people that I like and still like them. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"&gt;To think about it, there were some that I did like. Past tense. Why, mostly because some people are just not what they seem to be. Like? Well, you’ll find out as you go through life, sweetie. So what did I do when I received the messages from those that I didn't want them to remember me and I didn’t want to remember them? I made 2 choices. First, I smiled and I hoped that their wishes are sincere. Second, I just pretended that I didn’t receive them. So, some fell into choice no.1 and some into choice no.2.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 0);"&gt;Whatever it is, sweetie, you always have choices and you don’t have to put up with situations that you don’t feel good about it, maybe if it is a matter of life and death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love you lots,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mommy&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-4465168525014308702?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/4465168525014308702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/02/happy-rabbit-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/4465168525014308702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/4465168525014308702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/02/happy-rabbit-year.html' title='Happy Rabbit Year'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3368066721166777085</id><published>2011-01-19T14:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T15:02:34.052+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Been A Long While</title><content type='html'>19th January 2011&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm in a middle of a shoot, and can't wait for it to end.. another 8 days to go and it's Chinese New Year! This year's CNY is going to be different, again. I'm going back to Po Po's home and you're not going to Malacca. It'll be you and I together and this arrangement is going to stay until you decide, or rather, until I let you decide. Your daddy? It's all up to him now, sweetie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Us? I don't know. It would be your 1st Chinese New Year at Po Po's home and mine for a long time. Don't know what to expect, but, we'll go with the flow. We shall have fun, ok. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love you lots and missed u lots,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mommy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3368066721166777085?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3368066721166777085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/01/been-long-while.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3368066721166777085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3368066721166777085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/01/been-long-while.html' title='Been A Long While'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3744534836538000876</id><published>2011-01-05T19:57:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T01:06:06.800+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Better, I hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;5th January 2011&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Happy New Year, sweetie! Wishing you that the year ahead be filled with all the sweetest dreams. May there be rainbows, purple gowns and ribbons, Barbie dolls and loads of hugs, kisses and nose rubs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Mommy has not been writing letters lately, sorry, sweetie. Things haven’t been rosy. Sea was rather rough, weather quite unfriendly. Crossing my fingers, going to be better times ahead. And, I’ll be keeping out of sight for some time – anti-social. Not that I’m locking myself up and avoiding the whole world, just to reduce social activities, only keeping in touch with close family members and friends. I’m liking it this way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;To think about it, I only have a handful of close friends and family members anyway. I believe in quality rather than quantity. Tired of listening to gossips and nonsense, &lt;/span&gt;of keeping a straight face when I didn’t want to or trying to keep everyone’s happy in my own expense and pretending to be happy and nice when I actually didn't want to.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Anyways, sweetie, we will be great, just you and I.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Love you and miss you lots and lots,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3744534836538000876?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3744534836538000876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/01/5th-january-2011-dear-jaymie-happy-new.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3744534836538000876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3744534836538000876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2011/01/5th-january-2011-dear-jaymie-happy-new.html' title='Better, I hope'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-8399505413654364386</id><published>2010-11-18T13:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T13:53:02.085+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I made it this year!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;18&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; November 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Congratulations to your graduation of Year 2, and being the top student of the year 2 English language class! I braved through the heavy rain, traffic jams and long queues at the petrol station and toll plazas to reach the event on time. Phew! And I’m proud of myself. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I knew that being there meant the world to you. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;When I was your age, I couldn’t remember the time my dad came to my year end school events. Maybe just once. I have this little piece of memory that he was standing at the door for a short moment. It meant a lot. Mom, well, she was always there because she was one of the school teachers.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;I’m glad that you had fun. Know that I'm proud of you and I’ll try to make it again next year. No, every year.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Love you lots&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-8399505413654364386?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/8399505413654364386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-made-it-this-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/8399505413654364386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/8399505413654364386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-made-it-this-year.html' title='I made it this year!'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-2469196413420646899</id><published>2010-11-07T23:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T23:33:50.656+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Moment of Stupidity</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;7&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; November 2010&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Lazy, lazy. Not been writing any letters lately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;It has been an emotionally challenging month… and physically as well. Age does count sometimes, as much as I hate to admit it. And, I think, I got more sensitive too. Hated it when people bitch about me. To think about it more, I have only myself to blame. Good reputation that you tried real hard to build over the years could be gone with just one moment of stupidity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;So, sweetie, whatever you are doing and plan to do, think ahead… think of the consequences.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Love you lots,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-2469196413420646899?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/2469196413420646899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/11/moment-of-stupidity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2469196413420646899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2469196413420646899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/11/moment-of-stupidity.html' title='A Moment of Stupidity'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-5406187540513086378</id><published>2010-09-21T00:52:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T01:30:38.460+08:00</updated><title type='text'>3 days 2 nights</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TJeZ_HsX4jI/AAAAAAAAAHo/wlbEbEC7haI/s1600/IMG00554-20100917-1130.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TJeZ_HsX4jI/AAAAAAAAAHo/wlbEbEC7haI/s320/IMG00554-20100917-1130.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519049178041803314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TJeZ-37WzRI/AAAAAAAAAHg/TEw0o_I4Dsk/s1600/IMG00555-20100917-1131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TJeZ-37WzRI/AAAAAAAAAHg/TEw0o_I4Dsk/s320/IMG00555-20100917-1131.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519049173809679634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TJeZ96AeYUI/AAAAAAAAAHY/tRs6YkRxcWA/s1600/IMG00543-20100916-2226.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TJeZ96AeYUI/AAAAAAAAAHY/tRs6YkRxcWA/s320/IMG00543-20100916-2226.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519049157188149570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TJeZ9PfKp1I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/YpXfzqBOmoY/s1600/IMG00582-20100917-1145.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TJeZ9PfKp1I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/YpXfzqBOmoY/s320/IMG00582-20100917-1145.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519049145774155602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TJeZ8scjfJI/AAAAAAAAAHI/0gAGa5iP2wE/s1600/IMG00596-20100917-1155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TJeZ8scjfJI/AAAAAAAAAHI/0gAGa5iP2wE/s320/IMG00596-20100917-1155.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519049136367959186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;15th September 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I’m spending a good 3 days 2 nights in Taiping (and I fondly call it Tehpeng :D), Perak at a friend’s ATV base. ATV = All Terrain Vehicle. A new found activity that I currently enjoy. There’s no TV here, no hot shower, no rooms, no beds. I stay in a tent. It’s not much of the ATV ride actually. It’s the people here. Some of them I’ve known for quite a long time, some for a few good years, a few months for some of them and more than half of them are new friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Here, I eat, sleep, read my books, trying to do a few pages of good writing and take some photos. But most importantly I’m having a lot of good conversations. For me, sometimes, good conversations do not mean long conversations or conversations that require a lot of thinking and filled with intellectual value. A short sentence or a few honest words without hidden meanings or messages spoken that make me feel good is sometimes more than enough. Long, witty conversations could be tiresome and right now, right here, I’m not in the mood for that. Here, I don’t have to put my wits upfront, don’t need to be on my toes, don’t need to be prepared for a sudden moment of battle of the words and wits. I don’t need to be too careful with what I do or say. No one is judging anyone and I’m not even worried that the battery is running out on my laptop. That feels so good! They let me be what and how I am and this doesn’t happen all the time. Even now when I’m writing, they left me alone. I respect the respect that they are giving me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;There are no sour faces, no sarcastic words, no presence of rudeness. There’s a lot of smiling, talking and laughing. And there are some moments total silence. Everyone is being how they are. Haven’t been in this environment for quite some time. Even E-ton, the cat and Rain, the eagle look chill. It makes me smile writing about it. Right now, everyone is busy preparing for a barbeque session and guess what? I don’t need to move a muscle. Hehehehehehe! And I don’t get this everyday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Going to take more photos now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Missing you, sweetie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Lots of love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-5406187540513086378?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/5406187540513086378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/09/3-days-2-nights.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/5406187540513086378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/5406187540513086378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/09/3-days-2-nights.html' title='3 days 2 nights'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TJeZ_HsX4jI/AAAAAAAAAHo/wlbEbEC7haI/s72-c/IMG00554-20100917-1130.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-9220039002237637513</id><published>2010-09-08T01:13:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T21:39:30.991+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay on the Fence</title><content type='html'>8th September 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do when you are caught up in a tug of war and you are in the middle? It is rather disheartening when some people do not know how to differentiate between personal and business matters, and you are forced to take sides. What did I do? I stood on the fence. Let them fight till one of them fell flat or walk away, if they are smart enough. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, easier said than done. What did I do? Knowing what is your priority will keep you focus. Taking sides would make things complicated. And, there were times that I forced myself to be emotionless. Not an easy thing to do, but, it was for the best. Taking sides would be more destructive, especially it involves people that you are closed to. Why??? Why did this have to happen? Oh Gosh! Why can’t they be rational about things? I know, I know. We are just human beings. But then, I don’t do that. Yeah, it is just me. Hehe. Some people did say I'm weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s just a day filled with frustration, sweetie. Mommy is ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-9220039002237637513?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/9220039002237637513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/09/stay-on-fence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/9220039002237637513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/9220039002237637513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/09/stay-on-fence.html' title='Stay on the Fence'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-184435419563602696</id><published>2010-09-07T20:56:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T20:58:33.820+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Buat, Salah.. Tak Buat Pun Salah</title><content type='html'>7th September 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do when you feel lonely and alone? Funny that despites all the madness at work, traveling and constantly working 24-7, it feels so alone. I’m so looking forward to go back home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a stressful, confusing… words can’t even describe how it has been. I’m caught up in situations where my sanity is being challenged. It is as if that whatever decision that I took and are taking, risks are there. Sigh… Buat salah. Tak buat pun salah. The field in front of me is filled with landmines. Feels like my brain is going to explode. Maybe I’m not as smart as people think I am. Or maybe I’m too smart. Or maybe I’m making things too complicated for anyone to understand. It hasn’t been fun for mommy, sweetie. But, I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do. Its life and life is not easy. Sometimes we go through some down moments and I’m there now. Hopefully it’ll just be short and things pick up. Maybe I should go mandi air bunga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots, pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-184435419563602696?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/184435419563602696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/09/buat-salah-tak-buat-pun-salah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/184435419563602696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/184435419563602696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/09/buat-salah-tak-buat-pun-salah.html' title='Buat, Salah.. Tak Buat Pun Salah'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-2830909470758269628</id><published>2010-08-14T18:45:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T02:30:51.968+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wah Lai Toi &amp; ESPN</title><content type='html'>14th August 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you remember a day when we asked you what you want to be when you grew up? Standing up proudly you said “I want to be like mommy!” Everyone gasped and answered “No!”, including me. Hehehehehe! Sweetie, my job requires me to work around the clock and often takes me away from the family. No, Sweetie. Mommy does prefer you to be a teacher or work in a bank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what? As I was growing up, I did and liked things that were quite opposite from my mom, your po-po. This fact remains and still in the present tense. She sews, paints, bakes cakes and cookies, tries all sort of new recipes, arranges flowers and I did and do none of them. She takes 1 hour to buy a pair of socks, I usually take 5 minutes. Wah Lai Toi and AEC get their ratings from her, I stick to Sports channel and now FOX. When she says “yes”, it can mean maybe or might be a no. Me, yes means yes, no means no, and an oval is not a circle. She talks about whom marries whom, who just opened up a chicken rice shop and who went to Canada to attend a graduation, which I don’t really care as there are 90% chances that I don’t know all these people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was growing up, everyone expected or “hoped” that I would be a teacher like my own mother, but, I had to choose something out of the norm. It’s not that I despise what she likes. It’s just the matter of personal preference. I greatly admire her being so laid back and her “I don’t really care if the square looks more like a rectangular or cookie A looks darker than cookie B.” And I’m thankful that she respected my choices and all my “odd” ways and thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sweetie, it is all up to you, as long as you are happy and all you would be doing is legal, no human being or animals would be hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-2830909470758269628?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/2830909470758269628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/08/wah-lai-toi-espn.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2830909470758269628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2830909470758269628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/08/wah-lai-toi-espn.html' title='Wah Lai Toi &amp; ESPN'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-512347702635191901</id><published>2010-08-05T02:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T02:10:15.587+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Jaymie!</title><content type='html'>5th August 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s 1.30am and mommy is still awake&lt;br /&gt;Why? because it is your birthday, pumpkin!&lt;br /&gt;I’m thinking of the moment when you cut the cake&lt;br /&gt;Ripping the wrappers of the presents you will be getting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish I could be there to savvy all those moments&lt;br /&gt;But, no sweat! We can do it again this weekend&lt;br /&gt;There’re so many things in my mind this very instant&lt;br /&gt;One is how to make you feel precious the best I can&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want a party, a picnic or a day trip?&lt;br /&gt;Do you want blueberry cheese cake topped with chocolate chips?&lt;br /&gt;Do you want Barbie dolls or complete the Barbie DVD series?&lt;br /&gt;But, someone dear told me, “you just need to be there for your baby”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday, Jaymie, you have reached the number 8&lt;br /&gt;For me, pumpkin, no matter you are 8 or 28&lt;br /&gt;Accept the fact that you are always my baby girl&lt;br /&gt;And know that I love you so much, forever and ever&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-512347702635191901?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/512347702635191901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/08/happy-birthday-jaymie.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/512347702635191901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/512347702635191901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/08/happy-birthday-jaymie.html' title='Happy Birthday, Jaymie!'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-6573466862778163376</id><published>2010-07-23T00:19:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T15:11:46.875+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Intention Sometimes Is Under Appreciated</title><content type='html'>22nd July 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things had been “dramatic” the past few days and I was disheartened. In actual fact, I am still a little disheartened over a few incidents, or should I say over a few people of how they behaved and what they did. Sigh… no matter how honest you can be and how you hard you try to maintain good faith with others, it always takes two hands to clap. “Being noble minded to someone doesn’t mean that you’ll get the same treatment in return” - A friend wrote this in his facebook, and unfortunately it is quite true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, most people just wanted to think of themselves first even though it was not ethically right and some decided that their ego is more important than being responsible. I am even more disappointed when one of them was the person I had good faith in. In the end, this person chose to be selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, this is always my weakness, being too trusting. A lesson for us to learn here, sweetie. Be careful but don’t lose faith. Just be careful. It's a jungle out there, watch out for the vultures, monkeys and donkeys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots.&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-6573466862778163376?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/6573466862778163376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/07/good-intention-sometimes-is-under.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6573466862778163376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6573466862778163376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/07/good-intention-sometimes-is-under.html' title='Good Intention Sometimes Is Under Appreciated'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-8359004311171492548</id><published>2010-07-10T13:20:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T00:29:53.895+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Decision Again</title><content type='html'>10th July 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a really difficult 2 weeks at work. Well, it was difficult for 2 months, but it got worse. Sigh... I'd promised to not exhaust myself anymore, but it didn't follow through again. Everything and everybody demand my attention and with limited resources - money and manpower, things don't look good, no matter how hard I have tried. You know, it boiled down to "making choices" again. I chose to be responsible and not to disappoint people around me, but, I'm not happy and exhausted by it. And, I need the job to pay our bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, as I've mentioned before, life gets complicated as you grew older. This time around, should I just make a selfish move? A friend of ours has made a choice for me - "Drop this, it's not worth it and you have nothing to lose". And he gave me a way out. But, the dilemma remains. Should I abandon the diligent people around me or leave to have peace of mind? I will have something to lose, but would it matter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps this time around I'll make a selfish move. Or, maybe when I woke up the next day, I decided to stay on. Or, maybe there is another way I could think of that can work better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots and look forward to see you later.&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-8359004311171492548?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/8359004311171492548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/07/decision-again.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/8359004311171492548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/8359004311171492548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/07/decision-again.html' title='Decision Again'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3986113391145066904</id><published>2010-06-27T00:56:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T13:20:05.909+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brother, Richard</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TCY46_IdBwI/AAAAAAAAAG4/czp9Kaquz10/s1600/IMG00207-20100620-0917.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TCY46_IdBwI/AAAAAAAAAG4/czp9Kaquz10/s320/IMG00207-20100620-0917.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487135782027986690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TCY46bBpLbI/AAAAAAAAAGw/rRwRMniIEQU/s1600/IMG00202-20100619-2247.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TCY46bBpLbI/AAAAAAAAAGw/rRwRMniIEQU/s320/IMG00202-20100619-2247.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487135772335746482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TCY46ChvgII/AAAAAAAAAGo/1mJ6FgzYgJM/s1600/IMG00184-20100619-2055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TCY46ChvgII/AAAAAAAAAGo/1mJ6FgzYgJM/s320/IMG00184-20100619-2055.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487135765759492226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TCY45tzkfJI/AAAAAAAAAGg/f-uaiFZZRcQ/s1600/IMG00179-20100619-1911.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TCY45tzkfJI/AAAAAAAAAGg/f-uaiFZZRcQ/s320/IMG00179-20100619-1911.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487135760197123218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TCY45Yb-XII/AAAAAAAAAGY/w5419SqDULI/s1600/IMG00159-20100619-1839.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TCY45Yb-XII/AAAAAAAAAGY/w5419SqDULI/s320/IMG00159-20100619-1839.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487135754461011074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27th June 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend was a bomb! Not literally, of course. We had so much fun in Cherating. It has been a while we went for a family trip. Even though it was just over the weekend, but what a weekend! Sorry, mommy was only able to join you for just a night, but, we made all seconds counted. I’m grateful and thankful for your “tai kow fu”, Uncle Richard for taking you there earlier and making sure you had fun. And, on that Saturday (19th June 2010) was his 40th Birthday. We celebrated with good fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Richard has been really nice to both of us. Ever since we were young, he was always the “big brother”, always the one with good senses, always behave, the “clever" brother and the pride of our home. When he went to the university, you can’t imagine how proud we all were, and I always wanted to do what he was able to do. We were always close and he was always “cool” and his temper checked (but, when he blew it, it was like a nuclear bomb!). He was the one I went to for advise and complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time passed us by so fast and so many things had happened. There was a length of time after he had his own family he sort of lost touch with us all. We hardly got to see him and if we did, he wasn’t as close to us as before. He would came home in a rush and went back in a rush. We probably had met up like for only twice a year for almost a decade. Honestly, it pissed me off. It seemed like I had lost a brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Richard went through a traumatic time a few years back, and one of the incidents was a failed marriage. But, God is gracious and good. He is with someone that we all can see and feel that cares so much for him and vice versa. You know who I’m talking about. Auntie Pauline and she has been great to all of us. Most importantly, now, he is back to us all. I have my brother back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, it pains me when you say you don’t have any brother or sister. I don’t know how to say or what to say anymore and I don’t want to talk about it anymore about this for the time being. Let’s move on the best we can and let God decides. Just remember you are loved by a lot of people around you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3986113391145066904?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3986113391145066904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-brother-richard.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3986113391145066904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3986113391145066904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-brother-richard.html' title='My Brother, Richard'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/TCY46_IdBwI/AAAAAAAAAG4/czp9Kaquz10/s72-c/IMG00207-20100620-0917.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-8647046880081157202</id><published>2010-06-26T23:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T00:01:25.330+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You</title><content type='html'>Dear all,&lt;br /&gt;It is my pleasure that you visited my blog, reading my letters. Thank you for all your comments and words of encouragement and wisdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-8647046880081157202?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/8647046880081157202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/06/thank-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/8647046880081157202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/8647046880081157202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/06/thank-you.html' title='Thank You'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-6920869401105392649</id><published>2010-06-16T02:19:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T02:40:29.393+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You and I... and We'll be Great</title><content type='html'>16th June 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, I don't know how to tell you this and I've been contemplating should I tell you about this. Letting you read this letter would be the best way now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as mommy wants to do all the right things for you and for your sake, but in the end, it is up to the person involved, whether he or she wants to do the same or choose the opposite. Your daddy chose the opposite. From now on, it is just you and mommy. I'm so sorry, sweetie. I'm so-so sorry. Please know that it wasn't your fault and it never will be. Remember I always say that you always have a choice? He made the choice (stupid man!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, you know what, sweetie? We'll do good. No. In fact, I'll make sure we'll do great and it is his lost. You're precious and he'll regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-6920869401105392649?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/6920869401105392649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/06/you-and-i-and-well-be-great.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6920869401105392649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6920869401105392649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/06/you-and-i-and-well-be-great.html' title='You and I... and We&apos;ll be Great'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3453832986832572129</id><published>2010-05-30T21:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T21:29:29.266+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Miss Myself</title><content type='html'>30th May 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been focusing only on work that I didn’t realize that I hardly had time for myself, until I saw a friend wrote this on her Facebook wall “I miss myself”. It made me think – when was the last time I went to a movie? When was the last time I sat down hours with a good book or write my stories? In fact, this month, I’ve only written 1 letter. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent 2 hours just to window shop or to look for a toothbrush. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shopping had been just a 20 minutes task, and it was always 20 minutes before the shop closes. And, lunch meals had been lunch meetings or with my notebook next to the plate. At home, I’ve been answering emails and SMSes related to work, 24/7. Someone made a comment “…thing that I would regret most would be, when I lived to be 75 years old I’d realized that I’d not really lived at all”… and that would be really-really sad indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do miss myself, and I vow that I’ll make more time for myself. Today, I’ll watch a whole bunch of DVDs and not answering any emails or calls related to work. Maybe I’ll go window shopping too later in the evening or continue writing my stories I’ve put on hold for a long time. Or maybe I don’t plan anything and just do what comes to mind later. Yeah! Sounds like a plan!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To think about it all, why would I lose myself and make other people rich? And I don’t think I need to prove myself anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3453832986832572129?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3453832986832572129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-miss-myself.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3453832986832572129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3453832986832572129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-miss-myself.html' title='I Miss Myself'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-7029808084562563805</id><published>2010-05-15T01:12:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T02:41:55.347+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Not Take for Granted the Simple Things in Life</title><content type='html'>15th May 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy learnt a very important life lesson today. I’d realized that there are simple things in life that we often take for granted. A simple hug, a friendly smile, a kiss on the forehead, a warm touch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For work purposes, I’ve visited a non government organization called Nur Salam. It is a place set up by a group of caring and passionate people to help the unfortunates. At this place, there are children and even babies. The moment I stepped into their playroom, all of them ran towards me, salam my hands, hugged my legs and held my hands. They were smiling and laughing. I carried a few of them and they didn’t want to let go and few of them were waiting for their turns to be carried. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who are these children? Some of them were abandoned by their mom or dad. Some of them were left to the care of the centre because their mommy and daddy couldn’t take care of them. Why? Well, some of them did some bad things and were put away in jail or rehabilitation centres and some children were simply left on the street and have no one to take care. Sigh… It broke my heart. I’ve always knew that these unfortunate events do happen. But, seeing and being there, facing the facts and reality changed my thoughts and it touched my conscious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every day we complain and whine about life. We complain of not having enough shoes and clothes. We complain about our food arriving late at our table. We complain for having to postpone our holiday plans. But, for these children, all they wanted is kind attention, human touch. They hunger for love. We just don’t realize how fortunate we all are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sweetie, let’s not forget and take for granted the simple things in life. Your smile or kind words could make a difference in somebody’s life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy love you lots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s: Things happen for a reason. And I thank God for arranging today's event.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-7029808084562563805?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/7029808084562563805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/05/lets-not-take-for-granted-simple-things.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/7029808084562563805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/7029808084562563805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/05/lets-not-take-for-granted-simple-things.html' title='Let&apos;s Not Take for Granted the Simple Things in Life'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-474528870520204373</id><published>2010-04-29T20:00:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T20:22:37.031+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And it was the other way round</title><content type='html'>29th April 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past few weeks I’ve been meeting with people that I’ve known for a long time, and most of them for more than 10 years. They are people that I’ve worked with since the 90’s in this ever so frustrating but interesting and challenging industry. It seemed that some of them didn’t realize that I’ve grown up. They talked to me as if I was still in my 20’s. It was always until I said something “grown up” that it dawned to them that I’ll be 40 soon. Then they started to recall that I’ve been around for quite some time, I actually own an apartment, a car and I have a 8 year old daughter, you. Pretty amusing, actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I am small in size and barely weight 100lbs. Yes, sweetie, sometimes mommy forgets how much you’ve grown up too and I can’t talk to you like talking to a baby any more. You have started to understand more about life than I thought you would. And it was these 2 particular events that made me realize this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One Sunday evening, a few weeks ago, I was packing up to go back to the city. You were watching me and I knew from your look that you wanted me to stay longer. I stopped and wanted to "chit-chat" with you so that you won’t cry. Before I could talk more, you said, “... you have to go back to work and earn money to pay bills and I can go for ballet and computer classes... and can buy toys for me. I’ll see you next week.” So instead, you made me felt better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one particular Saturday night, we were at the toys department in a shopping mall. You were looking and playing with the toys there. You looked at me and said, “I’m just looking... they are expensive, I know. You don’t have to buy them.” And every time I said we have to go, you have never complained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, I feel so blessed. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-474528870520204373?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/474528870520204373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/04/and-it-was-other-way-round.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/474528870520204373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/474528870520204373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/04/and-it-was-other-way-round.html' title='And it was the other way round'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-7961361691105051610</id><published>2010-04-15T22:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T23:11:27.650+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Favours or Not</title><content type='html'>15th April 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know that the most distinctive thing mommy loves about you is your laughter? You have the most infectious laugh, and it has never failed to cheer me up. Whenever I don’t feel good, whether I’m moody or not feeling well, I’ll watch your laughing videos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, you are always cheerful, always laughing, never stingy with your smiles. You are always friendly and quick to make new friends. Maybe you got it from both your mommy and daddy. It is the nature of our work, I guess. But sweetie, just be careful. You can be friendly, but not always obliging. What do I mean? Well, sometimes, some people might take your friendliness or your kindness for granted or they might take advantage of you being nice for their own advantage. For example, they might “ask” for “favours”. Favours such as asking you to do certain chores for them, borrowing money from you and so forth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sweetie, before saying “yes”, think carefully. Ask yourself these questions:&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn’t they do the chores themselves?&lt;br /&gt;Why do they pick you? &lt;br /&gt;Are their reasons for the favours feel or look right to you?&lt;br /&gt;How do you feel about it? Do you feel uneasy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If your heart and mind sense that something is not right, just smile, tell them you are not the right person for those favours and walk away quickly – especially involving money. Always trust your instinct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not asking you to be stingy or selfish or be unkind and not helpful. What I want to say is just be careful, pumpkin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you and Mommy loves you lots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-9302fa0a09c6746e" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" 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href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/04/favours-or-not.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/7961361691105051610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/7961361691105051610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/04/favours-or-not.html' title='Favours or Not'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3527729224456774599</id><published>2010-04-05T22:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T22:58:42.616+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Do Or Not To Do...</title><content type='html'>5th April 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These 2 weeks I’ve heard a lot of people telling me “I’ve no choice”, “You gave me no choice”, “I’ve to do this, no choice” and similar lines. I always ask them back, “What do you mean you have no choice?” You know what sweetie, for me, there’s always a choice. When you say, “I have to do this”, it means you have made your choice to do it, because you did have another choice, which was not to do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess, it is the consequences that concern them. IF they choose not to do something, the consequences will be bad. But by choosing to do it, they might not be too happy. What do I mean? Well, taking you, for example. You can choose either to do your homework or ignore them and watch TV instead. But, the consequence of not doing your homework would be, you might get scolded by your teachers or detained after school hours to do more school works. So, like it or not, everyday, you do and finish up your homework before dinner. (And mommy is very proud of you for your diligence and discipline)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pumpkin dear, when you got older, you would be put into situations where you need to make choices. Sometimes, it would be easy to choose and sometimes it might not. But, whatever it would be, look at all the choices and the consequences. When you made a choice, be responsible to it. Well, sometimes we do make bad choices, and we regret them. Nobody is perfect. We’re human beings. But, we have to learn from mistakes and try to be careful before we choose to do anything. Always weight the pros and cons and don’t be hasty. Mommy made some bad choices in life, but I learnt from them and still learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sweetie, everyone DOES have a choice. And sometimes it is just choosing whether to do it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God bless you, sweetie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3527729224456774599?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3527729224456774599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/04/to-do-or-not-to-do.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3527729224456774599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3527729224456774599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/04/to-do-or-not-to-do.html' title='To Do Or Not To Do...'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3749482270155590658</id><published>2010-03-27T01:35:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T23:02:47.871+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is Partly What We Make it, and Partly What it is Made by the Friends We Choose (by Tennessee Williams)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zyXsUmIhI/AAAAAAAAAFo/3f6Y54i-iI8/s1600/dv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zyXsUmIhI/AAAAAAAAAFo/3f6Y54i-iI8/s320/dv.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452999737687286290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zx0srL-3I/AAAAAAAAAFg/t1azi2R73CE/s1600/Picture+6.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 318px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zx0srL-3I/AAAAAAAAAFg/t1azi2R73CE/s320/Picture+6.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452999136486620018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zx0AYXSxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/h5GE8pV4L0s/s1600/Picture+5.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zx0AYXSxI/AAAAAAAAAFY/h5GE8pV4L0s/s320/Picture+5.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452999124596509458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zxzSA_olI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/omw2go2BgfA/s1600/Picture+4.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zxzSA_olI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/omw2go2BgfA/s320/Picture+4.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452999112150458962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zxyy2lo7I/AAAAAAAAAFI/fLn9LeTCmcY/s1600/Picture+2.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 195px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zxyy2lo7I/AAAAAAAAAFI/fLn9LeTCmcY/s320/Picture+2.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452999103785313202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zxyd1upDI/AAAAAAAAAFA/kSwDwDIouRA/s1600/Picture+1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zxyd1upDI/AAAAAAAAAFA/kSwDwDIouRA/s320/Picture+1.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452999098144564274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27th March 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was my official last day of work at my office. I’m excited to move on but sigh... I’m going to miss my work mates. They were not just my work mates. They are my friends. It almost brought tears to my eyes as I was driving away. Anyways, I needed to move on. No regrets. I’ll see them for teh tarik sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know sweetie, the people that we hang out with affect us in many ways that sometimes we don’t realize it. What does that mean? Well, to put it in a simpler way. If you spend a lot of times with people that are always happy, you will naturally be happy too. And if you spend your days hanging out with smart people, people that have wide knowledge, you would eventually be able to learn from them. And vice versa, if you are always surrounded by those who are always unhappy, always angry and lazy, you might pick up their attitude and habits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An old friend of mommy, Auntie Justine, reminded me recently “if you want to soar like an eagle, don’t hang around with turkeys”. I am always picky with who I hang out with. That’s why I only have a handful of good friends. But sometimes, I bumped into turkeys or monkeys and I didn’t realize it until things turned bad or got out of hand and got hurt. What I meant is, be careful of who you make friends and who you spend your time with, especially if you need to be around them everyday. Mommy got hurt for not being careful, but I managed to put good senses back into my head. Now, I spend time and be with people that have positive energy and attitude and trying my best to stay away from those who are always so negative. We are human being and sometimes we have our bad moments. That’s when we feel sad or angry and frustrated and everything seems so negative. But, don’t dwell on those negative feelings long. It'll eat your soul out too. Turn around and look at the positive sides of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It goes for you as well. If you are always happy and have good habits, people around you will feel and pick up your good and positive attitude. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sweetie, that is one of the reasons that mommy left the old work place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God bless you, sweetie. Mommy loves you lots.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3749482270155590658?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3749482270155590658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/03/life-is-partly-what-we-make-it-and.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3749482270155590658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3749482270155590658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/03/life-is-partly-what-we-make-it-and.html' title='Life is Partly What We Make it, and Partly What it is Made by the Friends We Choose (by Tennessee Williams)'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S6zyXsUmIhI/AAAAAAAAAFo/3f6Y54i-iI8/s72-c/dv.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3798038191871723147</id><published>2010-03-12T18:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T19:01:53.534+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving On and Forward</title><content type='html'>12th March 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I had a “lunch drink” with your “kai ma” together with 2 other friends. It is “kai ma’s” last day at work with her current company and the coming week she’ll be working with a new company, in a new office and with new work mates. I’m happy for her for the move. Mommy is also going to work in a new place real soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we change our working place? Well, sweetie, for me, it is time to move on. What does that mean? Why do we need to “move on”? When we stayed too long at a place, we could get too comfortable. Every day at work, we do the same old stuff, seeing the same old faces, followed the same old procedures and end of the month we get our salary. Isn’t that good? Well, for some people this works perfectly well for them. For me, if we continue to do the same old things over and over again without positive changes and improvement, it is not really a good thing. There will be no improvement to the value of life. And mommy chooses not to lead this life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say positive changes and improvement, it doesn’t just mean earning more money or getting promoted. Everything that we do should add value to your life. The environment that you work in, the people that you work with, the jobs that are assigned to you, all of them should provide you with knowledge, education and a certain degree of satisfaction. This is so important to improve our quality of life and add value to it. Complicated? What I meant is, work is not just to earn money. While working, we should learn and to know how to work better and smarter, to be a better person and to move forward in life. Of course, we should be happy about it all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Education is a life long process. We need to keep learning and educating ourselves till the day we die. Through education and experience, we gain knowledge and it adds value to our lives. Someone I worked with told me, “I’ve reached this level that nobody can say that I’m wrong”. This I STRONGLY disagree. For me, anyone that says this has either gone lazy and stopped learning or just plain cocky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’re a lot more aspects involved which is so important that make us happy working and one of them is the mutual respect between you and the company. Once this is lost, then both sides will be affected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, why am I going to work for another company? Well, sweetie, it’s time for mommy to move on and forward and I hope that in this new place I will be able to learn more, be a better person and be happier. It is a risk, but, a risk worth taking to add value to our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;“The illiterate of the 21st century will not be those who cannot read and write, but those who cannot learn, unlearn, and relearn.” (Alvin Toffler)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God bless you, pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots.&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3798038191871723147?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3798038191871723147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/03/moving-on-and-forward.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3798038191871723147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3798038191871723147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/03/moving-on-and-forward.html' title='Moving On and Forward'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-1224510632438847199</id><published>2010-02-23T00:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T00:44:05.321+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Adjustment</title><content type='html'>23rd February 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually wanted to call it a day but out of the sudden the urge to write came. What do I want to tell you this time? Some friends mentioned that maybe I can start telling you about my work and about the industry I’m in. Well, sweetie, I did tell you in my earlier letter what mommy does for a living and I think, for now, it is enough for you to know. Maybe in a few years time I’ll tell you more. I just wanted and I hoped that the letters will enable you to know me a little bit more as I don’t get to spend a lot of time with you as much that I want to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are changing and have changed. This Chinese New Year you weren’t with me and, it wasn’t fun at all on my side. It wasn’t the same without you around but I’m glad that you had a good time with your daddy. As long as you are happy, sweetie. I just need to adjust to this new arrangement. Maybe next year I’ll know how to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what did I do this Chinese New Year? After sending you to your daddy on the new year’s eve, I went home to prepare dinner. A friend of mine came by. It was her birthday and I’d promised to cook for her. Oh, before I forgot, this year Valentine’s day fell on the same day of the 1st day of Chinese New Year (14th February). What is Valentine’s day? It is a day where you celebrate love and affection with your loved ones. It is when you see all those pink and red colour greeting cards and “heart shape” decorations everywhere in the shopping mall. We can talk about this next time, ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, on the 1st day of Chinese New Year, I spent the day with your kai ma, Phoena, shopping at Ikea and we had pancakes and beers for dinner. The truth, I was feeling rather lousy but I was very thankful that your kai man made the effort to be with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why didn’t I go back to Bentong? Honestly, I didn’t think that I could handle the situation. All the questions that would pop up... I won’t know how to react and what to say. Your po-po was a little upset but I hope she would be able to understand and forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life gets more complicated as we grow older. Responsibilities multiply and so are the problems and concerns. Right now, my wish is that you will grow up in a healthy and happy environment. Enjoy your childhood. Enjoy being a child under 12. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t and won’t promise you when or where I’m planning to take you for a holiday. But I can promise you that I’ll do it once I am able to. And pray that it won’t be a long wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you, sweetie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-1224510632438847199?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/1224510632438847199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/02/another-adjustment.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1224510632438847199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1224510632438847199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/02/another-adjustment.html' title='Another Adjustment'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-4777790108783334519</id><published>2010-02-22T14:21:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T23:35:18.418+08:00</updated><title type='text'>“It’s better to be defeated on principle than to won on lies” Arthur Calwell</title><content type='html'>22nd February 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You must have realized that there are certain “things” that mommy always say and has been adamant about them. I’ve written some of them in a few of the letters too. These “things” are quotes and sayings that I agree with and have been trying to live by them. I supposed I could call them my principles of life. What is principle? (1 principle, many principles). To put it in the simplest way. Principle is rules of life or believes that you follow and practice which defines your character or behavior. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the beliefs that I live by and I hope that they make sense to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;You do what you have to do, so that you can do what you want to do.&lt;/strong&gt; (By Prof. Mel Tolson)&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I say this over and over again. The soonest you have finished up your home works and house works (like washing your school shoes and tidy up the mess you made), the soonest you can play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;Don’t say for the sake of saying&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other words, “mean what you say”. Don’t say things just to make you or anyone else feel better. It is mean and irresponsible. It also means don’t lie. If you tell someone “I’m sorry”, you must feel sorry when say that. If you tell someone “I miss you”, you must be missing someone for real to say it. Etc. etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;Walk the talk&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a continuation of item no. 2. Do what you said and preach. So, before you say anything, think about it. Check with yourself if you can do what you are going to say. For example, when you say “I will not eat sharks fin. It’s not right” Then don’t eat it at all, not in front or behind anyone. If you say “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again”, then don’t ever do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;A liar will not be believed, even when he speaks the truth &lt;/strong&gt;(by Aesop)&lt;br /&gt;Remember the story of “The Boy who cried wolf”? Once lies are told, every word that comes out from your mouth will be doubtful of the sincerity and truth. And that leads to the quote &lt;em&gt;“I’m not up set that you lied to me, I’m upset that from now on I can’t believe you” (by Friedrich Nietzsche). &lt;/em&gt;I’ve expressed this in my previous letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;strong&gt;If you don’t have anything nice to say, shut up, smile and walk away&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, if you don’t know what to say, it’s best that you keep quiet. Why? Well, sweetie, it is because you might say the wrong thing that would make the other parties feel worse and also you would end up looking and feeling stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;strong&gt;I’ll rather be hated for who I am, than to be loved for who I’m not &lt;/strong&gt;(by Kurt Cobain)&lt;br /&gt;Be who you are and don’t pretend to be someone else. People will and should love you for who you really are. If you love rock music and despise R&amp;B, so be it. If you love gothic fashion, so be it. If you like pink, so be it. If you are not rich, so be it, as long as you are honest with your living. People should accept the way you are, and if they found out that you are not how and who you've acted, you’ll lose their respect and trust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;strong&gt;Honesty is the best policy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m conservative about this matter and I’ve been vocal about this. Yes, sometimes it is hard to admit the things that you’ve done, especially when you’ve done wrong. But, believe me, sweetie, if you are honest about it all, people will learn to respect you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;strong&gt;When you’d made mistakes, apologize&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also applies when you’ve hurt someone with what you’ve said with regards to whether you think you’ve done wrong or not. A simple “I’m sorry” will cool things down. But, please bear in mind, if you kept making the same mistakes over and over again, you apologies would be meaningless. It would mean that you’d not learned from the mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;strong&gt;Things happen for a reason&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me a long time to realize this. Whether good or bad, things do happen for a reason. It is for me to learn from experience. Sometimes it may take a while for you to see or realise the reason, just be patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  &lt;strong&gt;You always have choices&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It says it all. Whatever you choose to do, don’t regret it, even if it didn’t turn out as you wished it would. You make your own choice and nobody can and should be able to force you to do it. But, bear the consequences and don't blame others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. &lt;strong&gt;Respect has to be earned&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respect can't be given. Why? It is because it is something that comes from the heart and mind and you can't force it. How? It starts from respecting yourself and the people around you that deserved it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we need to have principles? Well, like I said earlier, it defines you as a person with characters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are my principles and honestly, sometimes in some situations it is not easy to follow. You’ve got to believe it before you can practice it. I’m not a saint or an angel. I have my shortcomings, but, I stand firm on my beliefs and it made me who I am today and, I don’t expect everyone to agree with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, pumpkin, sometimes mommy won’t force you to like or do certain things. But, I hope that you understand that there’re things that you’ve got to do for your own good – like going to school, read a story a day. Education is the fundamental aspect of most things in your future. It is the way it is in our society. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"In matters of style, swim with the current; in matters of principles, stand like a rock" (Thomas Jefferson)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love you and God bless you.&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-4777790108783334519?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/4777790108783334519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/02/its-better-to-be-defeated-on-principle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/4777790108783334519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/4777790108783334519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/02/its-better-to-be-defeated-on-principle.html' title='“It’s better to be defeated on principle than to won on lies” Arthur Calwell'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3871779716299415163</id><published>2010-02-09T20:38:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T14:11:01.880+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Can Just Take One Lie</title><content type='html'>9th February 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received a message from an acquaintance today... not a friend, an acquaintance. What is “acquaintance”? It’s someone that you know slightly, who is not a close friend. Well, the truth, I used to be closed to this person but we have grown apart due to some “unfortunate” incidents. So now, I’ve considered this person as just an acquaintance as I do not know this person anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Well, sweetie, it was all because of “telling lies”. You know what is “lies” right? 1- lie, many - lies. We call people that tell lies “liar”. When you keep on telling lies, it will eventually become a &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;habit.&lt;/span&gt; And when you are so good at telling lies, you’ll become a &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;compulsive liar&lt;/span&gt;. From there, it will lead on to something worse. That is, you won’t realize that you are actually lying. You start believing and living your own lies. That’s for me is mental disorder. A form of mental disease. (And you’ve got to go for mental therapy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people tell lies? Hmm... there are a lot of reasons. I’ve pushed this question to a few friends and main reasons I’ve received are first of all, to save yourself. Secondly, to protect your loved ones and friends and thirdly, to gain “something”, which could be in the form of favours or materials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next questions that popped out are: &lt;br /&gt;1. How far will you go to lie (for whatever reasons)? &lt;br /&gt;2. What happen if the person or party you lied to found out he / she was lied to? &lt;br /&gt;3. How will you face the person you lied to?&lt;br /&gt;4. What action you will take to rectify the “situation”? Create more lies to cover up the previous ones or own up to all your lies?&lt;br /&gt;5. How will it all affect your friendship, family ties?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever and however you want to justify it, for me, they are all for very selfish reasons. They are destructive to both the liar and the people that you lied to. You will lose the trust and faith that everyone has placed in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Simple. This is because, in the long run, the people around you will not know when you are lying or telling the truth. Every word that comes out from your mouth will be questionable of the sincerity... and end of the day, friends and family members will walk and stay away from you. Cause and effect, and sometimes it will just take 1 lie for this to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why again? Well, they don’t want to have their feelings and emotions manipulated again. They don’t want to be disappointed anymore. They don’t want to add any more bruises to their hearts. They simply don’t want to get hurt again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;“I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you”.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;This quote by Friedrich Nietzsche keeps playing in my mind... how true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what would be more disappointing? That IF this person refused to realize the damages and harms he or she has done. Worse still, continue this sinful act for personal gain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, don’t ever tell lies, please. It is plain &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;selfish&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;irresponsible&lt;/span&gt;. And I sincerely belief I brought you up to be better than this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of the day, I still belief in the old fashion saying where&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; honesty is the best policy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you, pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S: As for the message, I've decided to ignore it. Pretend that I've not received it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3871779716299415163?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3871779716299415163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/02/it-can-just-take-one-lie.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3871779716299415163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3871779716299415163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/02/it-can-just-take-one-lie.html' title='It Can Just Take One Lie'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3727932995363890284</id><published>2010-01-19T19:30:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T16:28:24.717+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Little Lady</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S1WZz7myrOI/AAAAAAAAAE4/TEDomZ4XUhk/s1600-h/DSC00338.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S1WZz7myrOI/AAAAAAAAAE4/TEDomZ4XUhk/s320/DSC00338.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428414043317775586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S1WZze_cunI/AAAAAAAAAEw/CNiPT-pQxAM/s1600-h/Jaymie.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S1WZze_cunI/AAAAAAAAAEw/CNiPT-pQxAM/s320/Jaymie.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428414035636566642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S1WZzJnGdCI/AAAAAAAAAEo/jhME1j8Ctw0/s1600-h/159_4933.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S1WZzJnGdCI/AAAAAAAAAEo/jhME1j8Ctw0/s320/159_4933.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428414029897298978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S1WZyQm6rRI/AAAAAAAAAEg/N_jXmrLT4Ik/s1600-h/Pumpkin+001.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 269px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S1WZyQm6rRI/AAAAAAAAAEg/N_jXmrLT4Ik/s320/Pumpkin+001.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428414014595706130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19th January 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was looking at the photos we took. Goodness, you’re a young lady now. No more a baby. Sweetie, sometimes mommy forgets you’ve grown so much. I know, there are times you reminded me of the fact, “I’m not a little girl, mommy!” You’re taller, wiser and know “stuff” that I never thought you would. Time flies, you are going to be 8 this year and you’ve your own email account. Sigh… Nope, no laptops or handphones yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is going to be a short letter today. I just miss you so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S: "I'm proud of you since the day you were born"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3727932995363890284?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3727932995363890284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/01/19th-january-2010-dear-jaymie-i-was.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3727932995363890284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3727932995363890284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/01/19th-january-2010-dear-jaymie-i-was.html' title='My Little Lady'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S1WZz7myrOI/AAAAAAAAAE4/TEDomZ4XUhk/s72-c/DSC00338.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-1895191786857509627</id><published>2010-01-07T12:38:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T12:44:41.154+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never be the option</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S0VmbuUnwjI/AAAAAAAAAEY/2PbfZ0Hcum4/s1600-h/Jaymie4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S0VmbuUnwjI/AAAAAAAAAEY/2PbfZ0Hcum4/s320/Jaymie4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423853952714654258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S0VmbUraeBI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ddrvnwcySS0/s1600-h/janda+baik3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S0VmbUraeBI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ddrvnwcySS0/s320/janda+baik3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423853945830930450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S0Vma8zml8I/AAAAAAAAAEI/eAmwuiaEcgs/s1600-h/janda+baik2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S0Vma8zml8I/AAAAAAAAAEI/eAmwuiaEcgs/s320/janda+baik2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423853939422828482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S0VmaGKHiRI/AAAAAAAAAEA/7ycPTK3zCDk/s1600-h/janda+baik.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S0VmaGKHiRI/AAAAAAAAAEA/7ycPTK3zCDk/s320/janda+baik.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423853924753312018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7th January 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Never allow someone to be your priority if you’re just an option...”  - Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re starting another year, 2010... hope that it’ll be better. We’ve gone through so much in 2009 and most of them were matters of the heart, and it is always the most difficult to handle no matter how rational we may try to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above quote I got it from a good friend, Marilyn. She wrote it on her Facebook status. What is Facebook? Errrr... I’ll show you when I get home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I want to tell you, sweetie, is always look out for yourself. Always take care of yourself first because you can only take care of other people when you yourself are good. And, please remember, be good to yourself and never take second choices if you can. Mommy’s mistakes were always too compromising, always think about the other party first, always too sentimental and too emotional, always give in even when I wasn’t feeling good or right about it, always the option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sweetie, starting now, this second, I’ll be good to myself, know when to say no and know that I actually deserve better in life and not let anyone take advantage of me. Easier than said, I know but I’ll try. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll be seeing daddy later to the lawyer’s office to get the house loan matters over and done with. It has been bothering me for a long time and the truth, I do miss daddy, in a way. At least, I’d someone to talk to anytime of the day... well, that was the good part and of course I don’t miss all the shouting and yelling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, I wish you all the best for 2010 and God Bless you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you lots,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-1895191786857509627?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/1895191786857509627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/01/never-be-option.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1895191786857509627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1895191786857509627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2010/01/never-be-option.html' title='Never be the option'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S0VmbuUnwjI/AAAAAAAAAEY/2PbfZ0Hcum4/s72-c/Jaymie4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-373872336331593051</id><published>2009-12-25T04:44:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T04:56:53.477+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Manger</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SzPVgq-Iz4I/AAAAAAAAAD4/yxxdl7z7rV0/s1600-h/Jaymie19a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SzPVgq-Iz4I/AAAAAAAAAD4/yxxdl7z7rV0/s320/Jaymie19a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418909533924282242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25th December 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke 2:7&lt;br /&gt;“and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloth and placed him in the manger, because there was no rooms in the inn”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long, long... very long time ago, there lived a carpenter named Joseph and his wife, Mary whom he loved dearly. Mary was told by God that she would be a mother to a very special baby boy. The baby boy would grow up and save the people. When Mary was pregnant for a few months, Joseph and her had to travel back to the town they were born. This was because the king wanted to count all the people in his kingdom and he couldn’t do it properly when his people were all over the place. So, the best way he thought was to summon everyone to go back to the place they were born to be counted and nobody would be left out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those days there were no cars, buses, trains or planes. People either walked or used other modes of transportation such as animals. Now Joseph had a donkey he could use to travel with them. Sometimes they would walk on their bare feet and sometimes Mary will sit on the donkey as she would easily got tired as she was carrying a baby in her stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They traveled for days and when night fell, they would stay in inns. When they reached the city of Bethelhem, which was almost home, the sky was already dark. They saw an inn and decided to stay there for a night. However, the innkeeper told them that there were no more rooms left for them. As it was already too late to continue their journey, the kind-hearted innkeeper asked them if they mind spending a night at the manger. Joseph and Mary said that they wouldn’t mind at all. Now, the manger was a place to keep the animals such as sheep or cows and it wasn’t a comfortable place to sleep. But, Joseph and Mary didn’t mind at all as it was better than to travel in the dark and cold night. Besides that, they were tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of the night, Mary suddenly woke up. She told Joseph excitedly that it was time for her to give birth to the baby. Not far away from the inn, an angel appears from the sky and told shepherds surrounding Bethelhem about the birth of the special baby boy. All of them went to the inn and was first to see the baby boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were no beds in the manger. So, Mary wrapped the baby with a piece of cloth to warm him up and both Joseph and her made a small bed from straws. They tried to make it as comfortable as possible for their precious baby boy. They didn’t have trouble to think of a name for the baby because God already named him for them. He was to be called Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, the 25th of December was a wonderful special night because Jesus Christ was born and he is the Greatest Gift to The World. Amen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sweetie, that is why we have Christmas day. To celebrate the birth Jesus. It is really not about presents and Santa Claus. Some geniuses said that day wasn’t 25th December. For me, pumpkin, it doesn’t really matter. What matter most is Jesus was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, I had the best Christmas ever. Partly... well mostly because I got to do what I wanted to do and to be with the people I wanted to be with. But, it would be perfect if you were here with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas, pumpkin and God Bless you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-373872336331593051?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/373872336331593051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/373872336331593051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/373872336331593051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html' title='The Manger'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SzPVgq-Iz4I/AAAAAAAAAD4/yxxdl7z7rV0/s72-c/Jaymie19a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-1347700627345661780</id><published>2009-12-20T21:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T04:59:20.191+08:00</updated><title type='text'>No More Rooms</title><content type='html'>20th December 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s going to be 2010 in 11 days time. It has been a really tough year for me, for us and I’m praying that things will better. Someone told me “if life is too easy, we’ll never know how to appreciate life”... I’m still trying to comprehend that. It always has to do with the heart, about people... that’s the aspect of life that never can be easy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What’s my Christmas wish? My new year’s resolution? Right now, I just wish that I’ll get through the 11 days peacefully... not adding anymore bruises to the heart, no more disappointment... I don’t think there’s any more room in the heart and mind to accommodate... it affects the soul too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the coming year, I hope that I will learn not to let anyone take advantage of me, take me for granted. It is how the heart will get bruised. Believe me, sweetie. I pray that you’ll learn to take care of yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you a lot, pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you and Merry Christmas in advance.&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-1347700627345661780?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/1347700627345661780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/12/no-more-rooms.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1347700627345661780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1347700627345661780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/12/no-more-rooms.html' title='No More Rooms'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-1153939779126220444</id><published>2009-12-14T01:02:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T01:09:38.795+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Miss You.. yeah... and?</title><content type='html'>14th December 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a great day, hasn’t it? Well, at least for me. Spending the day with you is always the greatest day... even though it is quite tiring... and my wallet gets thinner in a very short time. It’s really OK because we don’t do this every day and I’m always missing you. Hmm... this makes me think of the phrase “I miss you”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When someone tells another person “I miss you”... sweet isn’t it? But, what does it really mean? Or what is that person missing about the other? When I tell you, sweetie, that I miss you, it means I want to hear your voice, see your silly face, hug and kiss you, hear all the things that you want to tell me. When I miss Uncle Steven, it means I want to talk and chat with him, telling him what happened, what made me happy and angry. And when I miss gung-gung and po-po, it means I want to hear them nagging me, which sometimes annoyed me, but I still want them to do that. It also simply means I want them to be around me, watching TV together or talking about people, things or anything at all. And of course, I want to enjoy their cooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, when someone tells me “I miss you”, I do wonder what does it really mean? Are they missing me like I’m missing you and everyone at home? Is it something that they want from me, that only I can give or do? Is it because they are so used to having me around and if I’m not there they felt there’s a space there to be filled up? Is it because they are saying just for the sake of saying, maybe hoping that it’ll make you feel good? Or they are just simply bored?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, we have to be careful of what we say. When we say something, we should mean it and don’t say things for the sake of saying. Why? It is because it involves other people’s feeling and we don’t abuse it. It is mean and irresponsible. Sometimes, we don’t have to say anything as most of the times, actions speak louder than words and words without action is cheap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m always missing and thinking of you and that’s no lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you, pumpkin. 11 more days to Christmas! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-1153939779126220444?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/1153939779126220444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-miss-you-yeah-and.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1153939779126220444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1153939779126220444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-miss-you-yeah-and.html' title='I Miss You.. yeah... and?'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-583864285709895490</id><published>2009-11-28T23:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T23:29:57.032+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brother, Steven</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SxFBzIj0vVI/AAAAAAAAADo/It7Hxofk5xg/s1600/Picture+2.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 237px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SxFBzIj0vVI/AAAAAAAAADo/It7Hxofk5xg/s320/Picture+2.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409176974175550802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SxFBySJc7HI/AAAAAAAAADg/Oviw1NAxaJI/s1600/Picture+1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SxFBySJc7HI/AAAAAAAAADg/Oviw1NAxaJI/s320/Picture+1.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409176959569423474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26th November 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, today is Uncle Steven’s birthday today! HAPPY-HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STEVEN!! He’s now in Malacca celebrating his birthday. Malacca, we were there every Chinese New Year at Jonker’s Street, and this year, we rode on the Ferris Wheel. Remember? I consider that to be our last outing together, all three of us - you, me and daddy. Sorry, pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Steven, as u know, is mommy’s younger brother. I remember when we were children, Uncle Steven and I argued a lot. We teased, kicked, pinched and yell at each other a lot. But, we also played and laughed together. We are 4 years apart but we were always close and we kept each other’s secret. Uncle Steven, I always thought was the spoilt one and most of the time got what he wanted (sorry Steve, we are bitching about you), and, he was the cute one in the family. Me... I was the tomboy – dark skin, didn’t look Chinese and was never the pretty one. Well, it didn’t really matter. Uncle Steven also had mind on his own and was a little rebellious. You’ve got to ask him yourself the things that he did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he left the country to work in Papua New Guinea in the mid 90’s I missed him so much. Back then we didn’t have the internet... well, we had, but the technology was not as “high tech” as today and not as widely used for pleasure. We wrote letters to each other, real long letters and I was always checking the mailbox. Sometimes there were photos and postcards. Now, sweetie, I’m scared of the mailbox - it mostly contains bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he came back after a few years he stayed with me and we were taking care of each other. He was my soul mate. He was always watching my back and was there for me. He was the one I trusted. Even now, as we are older, have our own lives and don’t see each other everyday, he is still my best friend. I can always pick up the phone and call him if I need help or just to chat, and I sincerely hope that this will not change. He has his own shortcomings (so do I) and we had some arguments, but for me, nothing can beat the time when we only had each other to rely on, surviving the rains and storms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, I’m sorry that I can’t give you a brother or a sister you can play with. But I pray that one day you’ll find your own soul mate and I’ll find mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-583864285709895490?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/583864285709895490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-brother-steven.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/583864285709895490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/583864285709895490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-brother-steven.html' title='My Brother, Steven'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SxFBzIj0vVI/AAAAAAAAADo/It7Hxofk5xg/s72-c/Picture+2.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-1570712213176488557</id><published>2009-11-17T01:57:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T02:04:45.229+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Actually</title><content type='html'>16th November 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, today is Auntie GG’s birthday! Let’s wish her together, OK? One, two, three!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AUNTIE GG!! WE LOVE YOU!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m alone at home now watching “Love Actually”. Love this movie, watching it for the ... 10th time... or more. In the beginning of the movie, the narrator, who is Hugh Grant, said “Love actually is all around...” Yes, pumpkin, love is around you, actually. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 2 stories which is my favourite. First is the story of Jamie who ran away to France to heal his broken heart. There, he met Aurelia, his Portuguese housekeeper. Both of them didn’t speak the same language, but it didn’t stop from falling in love with each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second tells the story of Mark who liked his best friend’s wife, Juliet and chose to stay away by appearing “unfriendly” to her. Juliet found out about Mark’s secret feelings towards her. Mortified, Mark left her and explained his departure as a “self preservation” thing. On Christmas eve, Mark appeared at Juliet’s door step. He didn’t say a word. He used cardboards to tell her that “at Christmas you tell the truth” and, “without hope or agenda... to me, you are perfect”. Then he walked away telling himself “Enough, enough now,” perhaps acknowledging that he has found closure and can move on with his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, pumpkin, has no boundaries. It doesn’t matter even if both parties are from different race. It’s the chemistry, it’s the connection of feelings. And love too means being respectful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s just what I believed in, sweetie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-1570712213176488557?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/1570712213176488557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/11/love-actually.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1570712213176488557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1570712213176488557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/11/love-actually.html' title='Love Actually'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-857075942860034729</id><published>2009-11-01T21:07:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T21:13:10.542+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunset in Manila</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt; November 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;Missing you, pumpkin. 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt; night in Manila and trying to fit in the best that I could. Here, they speak Tagalog and English and every day I try learn a few Tagalog words... useful words. The very 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt; one I learnt is “gutom” – means hungry. 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt; one is “busoq” – full. Then auntie GG taught me a few more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;text-indent: 0.5in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;“Magandang umaga” – Good morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;text-indent: 0.5in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;“Magandang hapon” – Good afternoon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;text-indent: 0.5in; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;“Magandang gabi” – Good night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;I hope I got them all right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;I’m here with my work mate, Josephine. She’s my boss here. It makes things easier for me to work, as I’m not alone. In addition, I have a few Filipino work mates over here that have been cooperative. Being away from home, from everything that is familiar teaching me to be more discipline and work even harder. When you’re in a comfortable environment you tend to take things for granted, take people for granted. I guess God puts me here to learn a thing or two about appreciating the simple things right in front of my nose that I failed to see. As I always believe, things happen for a reason or reasons. That’s one of it and I’ll discover more when I'm here longer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;I’ll be back in about 2 weeks time for a few days. Miss your hugs, sweetie, and your kisses and your silly laughter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;Lots of love and God Bless you,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;p/s: Sorry, no photos this time. Mommy is being silly forgetting to bring the camera charger. Waiting for Auntie GG to send it to me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-857075942860034729?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/857075942860034729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/11/sunset-in-manila.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/857075942860034729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/857075942860034729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/11/sunset-in-manila.html' title='Sunset in Manila'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-199981152197506842</id><published>2009-10-21T20:00:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T20:03:17.277+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fly</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;21st October 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweetie, mommy will be going away for a long time – 90 days. (We’ll, actually, it’s not long but, not short either). Let’s rephrase it. Mommy will be going away for some time for work. Should be tomorrow, but trip is postponed to next week because of the Ramil typhoon warning. Typhoon is... hmmm… really big strong wind and heavy rain? Don’t know what to expect there, but I know that I’ll be feeling a little lonely as I’ll be there alone… just for the first few days I hope. I also hope that work will keep me busy there and then, before I knew it, it’s time to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things happen for a reason, and I know that there’s a reason why I need to do this. Perhaps being away from familiar places and faces will help me sort out my mind. But, my greatest concern is leaving you for 3 whole months, and that really bothers me a lot. Remember I showed you the map to where I’m going? You told me straight in the face to find a job in Bentong and stay with you. He he he! When the time is right, pumpkin, we’ll stay together, I promise. Give me some time to work it out, ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hugs and Kisses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Lots of Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S: I’ll be safe for you, promise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-199981152197506842?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/199981152197506842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/10/21st-october-2009-dear-jaymie-sweetie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/199981152197506842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/199981152197506842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/10/21st-october-2009-dear-jaymie-sweetie.html' title='Fly'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-9082167558772548777</id><published>2009-10-14T17:09:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T17:21:08.961+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Much Needed Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/StWWyQssv5I/AAAAAAAAADY/RqG7KtRDYwM/s1600-h/wed4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392381919066111890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/StWWyQssv5I/AAAAAAAAADY/RqG7KtRDYwM/s320/wed4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/StWWxwZXPwI/AAAAAAAAADQ/J3XBYkdqBW0/s1600-h/wed3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392381910395076354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/StWWxwZXPwI/AAAAAAAAADQ/J3XBYkdqBW0/s320/wed3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/StWWxE8Q-aI/AAAAAAAAADI/bcxo35Dka4M/s1600-h/wed2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392381898730305954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/StWWxE8Q-aI/AAAAAAAAADI/bcxo35Dka4M/s320/wed2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/StWV-097_ZI/AAAAAAAAADA/uOGjODgOIEE/s1600-h/wed4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/StWV-chM5FI/AAAAAAAAAC4/j-chwypJFtg/s1600-h/wed2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;14th October 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Have not seen your face for about 2 weeks now, missing you like crazy, sweetie. I’ve just got back from a much needed break to Kota Kinabalu, Sabah. That’s in Borneo – to the East. Even though it’s still in the country, but, it felt like in another country. Maybe because it’s far from KL… far from all the problems, troubles… far away from people and things that I see everyday. And, there, we attended a wedding of Auntie Lindsay and Uncle Lester. The ceremony was in a Catholic church in the morning. Fun. In fact it was the main reason we were there. We? Mommy went with Auntie GG and Uncle Pekin. At Kota Kinabalu we have some friends too. One of them is Auntie Marilyn. It was a good trip, catching up with old friends and meeting new ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, on the day that we were supposed to go back to KL, SMSes and calls started pouring in. Sigh… reality hit us hard in the head. Whatever it was, we can’t run away from reality, responsibilities we carry on our shoulders, in our head, in our heart. That’s fact, sweetie. You’ll be feeling it too when you grow up. Actually you already have your responsibilities. Such as? Well, you need to go to school, attend classes and exams. You have your ballet classes every Saturday morning and you always want to make sure that you do the best. That could be called responsibilities, but, make sure that you enjoy all of those (yeah, I know exams are quite difficult to enjoy). Pumpkin, that’s life. As you grow older, your responsibility grows in numbers as well. So, it is so important to be disciplined, learn to be organized and plan ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Love you, Sweetie. Can’t wait for the weekend to see you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Hugs and Kisses,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-9082167558772548777?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/9082167558772548777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/10/much-needed-break.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/9082167558772548777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/9082167558772548777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/10/much-needed-break.html' title='A Much Needed Break'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/StWWyQssv5I/AAAAAAAAADY/RqG7KtRDYwM/s72-c/wed4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-6467089573051014732</id><published>2009-10-07T15:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T16:01:13.346+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Up Down! Up Down!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SsxIhNRFMnI/AAAAAAAAACw/GyAlCBInmrE/s1600-h/DSC00517.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389762589389828722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SsxIhNRFMnI/AAAAAAAAACw/GyAlCBInmrE/s320/DSC00517.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;7th October 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;You know, when you get older your priorities changes. It has been happening to me. Lately, with all that had happened, I’ve been thinking a lot about how our lives should move on. What should I do first? What should be done first? What is the best way? How should I do it? Is this the best time to do it? Etcetera and so forth. Then someone told me “Yen, one thing at a time or you’ll go crazy.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing at a time... hmm... “Take a deep breath, slow down for awhile,” he continued. Yeah, that’s what I think I want to do for a short while. There’s no point of pushing myself to the corner and get trapped. Sort out my mind, which is out of sort now. So, I started by not answering any stressful calls and SMSes. Opened iTunes, selected my favourite playlist, put on the earphone and started writing. For hours I've shut myself out from the people and whatever that is happening around me. Whatever that’s going to happen, I’ll let it be... for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life, sweetie, is always full of ups and downs. Now for me, it’s the down time. However, it is really up to us how and what to do about it. Either we continue staying down and low or we come back up. So, I choose to stay down and low for a “very short” period of time to sort out my mind like I mentioned earlier, then I'll be running around again. I’m thankful that God blesses me with a positive mind and attitude. No matter how bad things may seem I will always look for the light, after rotting in the dark for a short moment. Well, end of the day I’m still a human being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you, Pumpkin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Hugs and Kisses,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-6467089573051014732?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/6467089573051014732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/10/up-down-up-down.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6467089573051014732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6467089573051014732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/10/up-down-up-down.html' title='Up Down! Up Down!'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SsxIhNRFMnI/AAAAAAAAACw/GyAlCBInmrE/s72-c/DSC00517.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-6421735495834484347</id><published>2009-09-30T17:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T18:14:06.888+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling it too... how?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;30th September 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Sometimes you don’t have to talk and people around you can feel how you’re feeling and vice versa. Their anger, their frustration, their disappointments, their sadness, especially people that you cared for. What do we do? It really depends, sweetie. Some people, they will want to talk it out with someone and if they feel that they want to talk to you, they’ll look for you. Lend your ears, listen. If they ask your opinion, be subjective about it, don’t choose side. If they don’t, just keep quiet, let them voice out their anger, frustration and so forth because all they want is just for someone to listen to them and give them a big hug. So, reserve your comments (which I find that a lot of people are unable to do. They have to put in their 2 cents comment. "Hello!! Who’s the one that is depress here, shut up").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are some that just want to keep to themselves most of the time and don’t want to talk about it. Mommy is one of them. What do we do? Well, just let them know that you’ll be around if you are needed. Send a simple note - “hey, chill ok..”, “I’ll be around if you need to trash it out” or a simple “I love you, remember that”. Respect them, let them be, but watch over them from a distance. The more you talk, the more frustrated or annoyed they can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What important is it’s THEIR feelings that matters at the time, so, it’s up to them how they want to deal with them, as long as they are not self destructive or hurting anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I talking about all these? Well, someone that mommy care’s for is not feeling “good” today. So, I sent the person a note to take care, letting the person knows that I care and will be around if needed. How about us? We feel how they are feeling. Well, Pumpkin, say a little prayer for both. I just did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you, Pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-6421735495834484347?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/6421735495834484347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/feeling-it-too-how.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6421735495834484347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6421735495834484347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/feeling-it-too-how.html' title='Feeling it too... how?'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-6519116465999277479</id><published>2009-09-25T14:49:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T15:08:41.566+08:00</updated><title type='text'>D.I.Y</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;25th September 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I‘ve just called Agnes, mommy’s lawyer asking for some documents. Few minutes before that, I was reading an email from another lawyer, asking me to prepare all sorts of document for the new house loan. Two days before, I was meeting up with our insurance agent, sorting out our insurance policies, then, ran over to the bank to talk to the banker. Later at 3pm I’ve got to run to the bank again and to the EPF office. I’m so tired, sweetie. Now, this moment, I wished that there’s someone that can take care of all these for us. Maybe when I’m rich enough, I’ll hire a personal assistant. Well, that’s just a thought for now. It’s always better to get things done by yourself and I’ve been doing that for a long time. So, I am always thankful that I wasn’t spoilt and am always independent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"If you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, you'll probably never do much of anything" (Win Borden)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a short letter today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you, Pumpkin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-6519116465999277479?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/6519116465999277479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/25th-september-2009-dear-jaymie-ive.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6519116465999277479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6519116465999277479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/25th-september-2009-dear-jaymie-ive.html' title='D.I.Y'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-5992207892674372264</id><published>2009-09-22T18:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T19:29:23.549+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Will you want to?</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;22&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; September 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;“Have you ever wished that things were different?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Gung-gung asked me this question out of the sudden a long time ago (he was a little overdosed with the English herbal tea a.k.a beer that time and most probably had forgotten what he said). I was surprised. I remembered that I didn’t answer him but the question lingered in my mind for a while. I was about 15 then. Quietly, I did wish things were different then. Wished that I was smarter, prettier, taller, had fair skin, rode the newest bicycle like my rich neighbours. I wished that my parents were rich, I even wished that I had different parents. Yes, I did. Wished that we can go further than Singapore for holidays and stay in nice hotels, not relative’s crampy flat. Wished I would be able to study out of the country. You see, sweetie, we were never well off, just enough, sometimes ok. It seemed that we all had but only 1 choice, get good grades in STPM and enroll into a local university. To say that I had a happy childhood... hmmm... maybe one third of the time. Never been closed with po-po and gung-gung then either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Now, 20 years later, this question suddenly popped up again in my head. Will I wish that things were different? 10% still yes. There are a few mistakes in life that I really-really wished that I had not done. 90% of it, I won’t want things to be different because I won’t be the person that I am now. I might take life for granted and ended being a spoiled brat. I might not be able to do the things that I am capable of doing now. I might not meet the people that mean so much to me now. I might not know how to learn from mistakes and appreciate life. And most importantly, I might not have you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;We move forward, don’t look back unless to reflect on our mistakes, making sure that we don’t repeat them. It is really our choice, to be happy or vice versa and I choose to be happy, no matter what had happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;God Bless you, Pumpkin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Mommy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-5992207892674372264?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/5992207892674372264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/will-you-want-to.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/5992207892674372264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/5992207892674372264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/will-you-want-to.html' title='Will you want to?'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3660220182908110520</id><published>2009-09-22T16:35:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T14:16:22.422+08:00</updated><title type='text'>There's always another door...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SriPy08SImI/AAAAAAAAACo/9EYsEDWL_X0/s1600-h/Wowamazing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384211457889149538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SriPy08SImI/AAAAAAAAACo/9EYsEDWL_X0/s400/Wowamazing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SriPymfCEXI/AAAAAAAAACg/wrBqxb1DXfw/s1600-h/Wowamazing2_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384211454008365426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 188px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SriPymfCEXI/AAAAAAAAACg/wrBqxb1DXfw/s400/Wowamazing2_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SriPyGLdphI/AAAAAAAAACY/ENEZIffqlL8/s1600-h/kebaya%26kurung.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384211445336352274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 349px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SriPyGLdphI/AAAAAAAAACY/ENEZIffqlL8/s400/kebaya%26kurung.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;22&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; September 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The reason I started this blog and naming it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;dearjaymie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; is for me to tell you all that I can. So, in the future, when I'm not around anymore, you will still have my writings. They are my voices.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Pumpkin, you might have notice now that our family is a little “special” from most of your friends in school and your cousins.  I won't call it "different" because everything else is the same. There's you, mommy and daddy, gung-gung and po-po, uncles and aunties and cousins. Well, in fact you already do know for sure. It's only that mommy doesn’t stay with you all the time and only sees you during weekends and, now it is just mommy, no daddy. Things have changed a little, sweetie and I’m relieved that you are taking all the changes without any difficulty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;How about me? Well, for the past 2 months I think I’m doing quite OK. Mainly because God is Great, putting me into good companies of people that in many ways are the pillars of the important aspects of my daily life. Time is filled up with work, meeting people, socializing etc. and constantly trying to work things out so that things will be easier for us. Have been meeting up with bankers, insurance agents, lawyers, contractors, running up and down offices and banks to work out the major stuff – “leceh, penat tapi berbaloi”. Everything seems to fall into places. Hopefully all these are enough for the next few years to come for us to be a little bit more comfortable. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So sweetie, you see, it’s all about planning your life. If things don’t turn out as planned, look other ways. There’s always more than one door that is opened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;God Bless you, Pumpkin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3660220182908110520?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3660220182908110520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/theres-always-another-door.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3660220182908110520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3660220182908110520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/theres-always-another-door.html' title='There&apos;s always another door...'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SriPy08SImI/AAAAAAAAACo/9EYsEDWL_X0/s72-c/Wowamazing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-4793330991906831880</id><published>2009-09-15T01:48:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T15:04:43.083+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't You Lose Your Faith</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;15&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; September 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Sweetie, this song is for both of us. It says it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;THE CLIMB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;by Miley Cyrus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;I can almost see it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;That dream I'm dreaming but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;There's a voice inside my head sayin, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;You'll never reach it, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Every step I'm taking, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Every move I make feels &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Lost with no direction &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;My faith is shaking but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;I Got to keep trying &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Got to keep my head held high  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;There's always going to be another mountain &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;I'm always going to want to make it move &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Always going to be an uphill battle, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Sometimes I'm gonna to have to lose, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ain't about how fast I get there, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ain't about what's waiting on the other side &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;It's the climb &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;The struggles I'm facing, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;The chances I'm taking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Sometimes they knock me down but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;No I'm not breaking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;I may not know it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;But these are the moments that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;I'm going to remember most yeah &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Just got to keep going &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;And I, I got to be strong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Just keep pushing on, cause &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;There's always going to be another mountain &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;I'm always going to want to make it move &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Always going to be an uphill battle, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Sometimes I'm gonna to have to lose, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ain't about how fast I get there, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ain't about what's waiting on the other side, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;It's the climb  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;There's always going to be another mountain &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;I'm always going to want to make it move &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Always going to be an uphill battle, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Sometimes you going to have to lose, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ain't about how fast I get there, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Ain't about what's waiting on the other side &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;It's the climb  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Keep on moving &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Keep climbing Keep the faith baby &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;It's all about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;It's all about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;The climb &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Keep the faith &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Keep your faith  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Whoa a oh oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Never ever give up, sweetie. God Bless you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Love,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mommy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-5c6a21573b105dbe" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5c6a21573b105dbe%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331204154%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5CE06698F3C6D0EAE8F8AAE8B3C6203961C75EAF.68DAF32CA8ACF97B3CE7F5F68C8F9A49814C1D89%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5c6a21573b105dbe%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DuDEEcR6dVyF7f80D6SThMDjoV2w&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5c6a21573b105dbe%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331204154%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5CE06698F3C6D0EAE8F8AAE8B3C6203961C75EAF.68DAF32CA8ACF97B3CE7F5F68C8F9A49814C1D89%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5c6a21573b105dbe%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DuDEEcR6dVyF7f80D6SThMDjoV2w&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-4793330991906831880?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/4793330991906831880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/dont-you-lose-your-faith.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/4793330991906831880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/4793330991906831880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/dont-you-lose-your-faith.html' title='Don&apos;t You Lose Your Faith'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-2001922610185996567</id><published>2009-09-09T13:38:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T14:52:36.806+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shut up, smile and walk away</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9th September 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;You know, mommy just hate people taking things for granted, taking people for granted and, taking advantage of the word "friendship". Yeah, I’m feeling a little annoyed now. Not with you sweetie, don’t worry. What happened? Well, it is when people become closer to you, some tend to “forget” that there are things that you do mind them doing or saying, “forget” to mind their manners, “forget” to be considerate of your feelings, that you can get annoyed, hurt… basically, they just "conveniently forget" that you are a human being. Sigh… And they can do it without a slight hint of guilt… (double sighs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I do about all these, about those people? Well, pumpkin, most of the time I’ll walk away. Confrontation is not my style, I’d only do it if I have to. Sounds a bit like a loser, huh? Not really sweetie. Keeping quiet and walk away doesn’t mean that you are on the losing side. I do it because I don’t waste time and energy over silly arguments, and on some occasions, I didn’t want to offend someone or anyone. When people get angry, most of the time they can't think straight and often say things that they might regret later on and feel rather silly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When will I confront? I will only do it if:&lt;br /&gt;a) someone will get into trouble or hurt if I don’t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;b) to protect someone&lt;br /&gt;c) to have an answer immediately so that I can have peace of mind and move on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;d) it’s a matter of life and death&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, it takes a stronger person to keep quiet and walk away. Besides, it makes you look classier, and I believe in karma (it will come 3 folds) heheheheheh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I deal with the frustration? I’ll channel the energy to something more useful, like what I’m doing now – writing. Any energy, positive or negative, can be used for good. So, pumpkin dear, always keep your head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you, Pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-2001922610185996567?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/2001922610185996567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/shut-up-smile-and-walk-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2001922610185996567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2001922610185996567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/09/shut-up-smile-and-walk-away.html' title='Shut up, smile and walk away'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-5174664747753429770</id><published>2009-08-31T16:15:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T00:55:41.015+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are (Kurt Cobain)</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;31&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;st&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt; August 2009 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;“I’d rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;The above quote is by Kurt Cobain and he is(was) the lead singer, songwriter and guitarist of the band Nirvana. Nirvana is famous for their style of music called grunge and made it popular back in the mid 90’s with their album &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;Nevermind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;. What is grunge? It is a categorized as alternative rock and fuses the element of hardcore punk, heavy metal and indie rock. It also contains distorted electric guitars, contrasting song dynamics and angry-filled lyrics. My favourite Nirvana’s song of all time is “&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;Lithium”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;. Nirvana Rocks! Kurt Corbain rocks!.. even though he’s 6 feet under.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;I'd Really Love to See You Tonight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;” was written by Parker McGee and was a hit by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;England Dan and John Ford Coley from their 1976 album &lt;i&gt;Nights Are Forever&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;. It’s one of my favourite mushy songs; I’ll listen to it especially when I miss someone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt; Just want to let you know a bit more about mommy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#6600CC;"&gt; God Bless you, Pumpkin. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC0000;"&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify;tab-stops:82.4pt"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-11ca7b11a2891959" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param 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href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c3dc3b7285c0277d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/5174664747753429770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/wanting-to-be-someone-else-is-waste-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/5174664747753429770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/5174664747753429770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/wanting-to-be-someone-else-is-waste-of.html' title='Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are (Kurt Cobain)'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-8720118441909664149</id><published>2009-08-26T12:44:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T06:00:42.486+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...It's really your choice</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;26th August 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;This month is the month of Ramadhan. What is Ramadhan? Ramadhan is the month that the Muslims fast. Fast?? Not as in “run fast-fast”. Fast also means refraining from eating and drinking. During Ramadhan, fasting begins from early morning till evening, everyday for a month. Why do they fast? When they or we fast, we’ll get hungry and thirsty, and when we get hungry, we’ll remember the less fortunates, those who are poor. It’ll make those that fast realize how lucky they are. And, fasting tests our endurance, will power, and self discipline. See, pumpkin, this is why mommy fasts as well and I’ve been fasting during the Ramadhan month for many years. It doesn’t matter that I’m not practicing the religion – Islam, it’s my choice as an individual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And pumpkin, there’s another matter that mommy want to tell you. You know, we all (most of us) have religion or believe. Us, we are Christian Protestant. We celebrate Christmas – remember, we put up the Christmas tree, wrap presents and mommy tells you stories about Jesus Christ. But sweetie, we still celebrate Chinese New Year because it’s culture (&lt;em&gt;yeah, I know, we had to go to THAT PLACE every Chinese New Year, bored out of our skulls, but you don’t have a choice ok, until you got married.  Next CNY mommy won’t be there, hehe, good luck!&lt;/em&gt;). And “we do not celebrate” Wesak Day, Hari Raya, Deepavali as they are religions. When I say, &lt;strong&gt;“we do not celebrate”&lt;/strong&gt; it means we do not go to the Buddhist and Hindu temples or Mosque and pray, but we “are part of the celebration” and “participate” in the events by visiting friends that celebrate them, wishing them “Selamat Hari Raya”, “Happy Deepavali, “Happy Wesak Day”, “Happy Dewali”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pumpkin, you see, our country Malaysia is special in a way that we don’t only have Chinese or Malay or Indian or English people. We have Malay and Chinese and Indian and Portuguese and Sikh and the orang Asli and Kadazan and Bajau and Murut and Iban and Bidayuh and Penan and Kenyah..... and the list goes on! But whatever it is, we are all Malaysians. It’s more important being a Malaysian than a Chinese, well, that’s just me. Sweetie, when comes to religion I don’t believe in forcing anyone to believe in any faith. It’s matter of the heart and soul, and, it’s between that person and his or her God. And, back to what I wanted to tell you... your daddy has made his choice to convert to Islam and his Muslim name is Mohd Aiman Abdullah! Phew! Ok, I’ve said it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sweetie, it’s really your choice, but, please don’t become too obsessed and turns into a religious fanatic ok. Scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you, Pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-8720118441909664149?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/8720118441909664149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-really-your-choice.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/8720118441909664149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/8720118441909664149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-really-your-choice.html' title='...It&apos;s really your choice'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-6313303326517366567</id><published>2009-08-19T13:53:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T15:37:35.122+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...mixed emotions...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SouU6p4bMtI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Ijz83C8-NTc/s1600-h/DSC00358.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371550715965289170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SouU6p4bMtI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Ijz83C8-NTc/s200/DSC00358.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SouU59G5kmI/AAAAAAAAABw/kjrAGxw3QmI/s1600-h/DSC00346.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371550703946404450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SouU59G5kmI/AAAAAAAAABw/kjrAGxw3QmI/s200/DSC00346.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SouU5YHLnoI/AAAAAAAAABo/-A5oN_8A4dY/s1600-h/DSC00345.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371550694015475330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SouU5YHLnoI/AAAAAAAAABo/-A5oN_8A4dY/s200/DSC00345.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;19th August 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;On 17th August 2009, 9.00am, mommy and daddy went to the court. Daddy was late... as usual... sigh... What is the court? Hmmm... according to the online dictionary (again), it’s a place for the administration of justice. Well, pumpkin, when mommy and daddy had decided not to stay together as husband and wife any more we needed to ask for permission as well. (Yes, besides permission from gung-gung and po-po). We needed someone to help us to ask for permission and that that someone is called the lawyer. Why do we need a lawyer and not do it ourselves? Well, there were a lot of talking, letters to write, people to meet and mommy didn’t know how to (Yes, there are things that mommy doesn't know how to do). For example, when po-po’s washing machine was spoilt, po-po had to call someone to come make it move again. Po-po and gung-gung didn't not know how to fix it and had to ask someone else to do it. Not a good example, huh, but you get my point right? Anyways, inside the court there was a judge who asked mommy and daddy some questions before giving us the permission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, pumpkin, everything was done by 11.15am. Mommy and daddy are no longer husband and wife, but, we are still your mommy and daddy, always remember this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agnes, mommy’s lawyer asked me a question, “how do you feel now?” “Relieved!” I said, spontaneously. Moments later, my vision became cloudy, tears streaming down from the corner of my &lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;eyes. Too relieved till I cried? Or I guessed that I’m sad that this had to happen... felt like a loser in life for a few moments there. However, as I drove home and phone messages started to pop up one by one – “Hooray!”, “Woohoo!!”, “Congrats!”, “Shout Merdeka!”- I suddenly felt kind of happy and smiled all the way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to sum it up, I guess I was having mixed emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Relieved&lt;/strong&gt; that has finally got it over and done with;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sad&lt;/strong&gt; that we have to walk this road, and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy&lt;/strong&gt; that I finally can start a new life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sweetie, no matter what, please be assured that mommy and daddy love you the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you Pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-6313303326517366567?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/6313303326517366567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/mixed-emotions.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6313303326517366567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/6313303326517366567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/mixed-emotions.html' title='...mixed emotions...'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/SouU6p4bMtI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Ijz83C8-NTc/s72-c/DSC00358.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-1357510649050619954</id><published>2009-08-16T16:32:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T15:52:38.894+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Frogs, Dinosaurs and Rapunzel Barbie</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;16&lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt; August 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;Hope you’re having fun now with your daddy. Hmm... which playground today, I wonder, and, what kind of insects you are going to bring home this time. You know, pumpkin, you never liked playing “masak-masak” and dolls or soft toys when you were a baby. You had cars, guns, plastic dinosaurs that you rammed with the cars. “Die, you monster!!! Dush!!! Kaboom!!!”... and followed by the evil laugh. Adoi! You just loved to jump off the swing while it was still moving... real fast and high. Daddy and I (usually daddy la) would always have to be readied for the “heart attack moment”. You liked (still like) to stare at and disturb the ants, moths, frogs etc. And you played with a huge snake (at the A Farmosa) and I almost “pengsan” (that means I almost fainted). So, pumpkin, when you start liking Barbie dolls I am so glad, no lie. I am pretty glad too that you are enjoying the ballet lessons... “ahhhh... she’s doing girl’s stuff... (smiling)”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;I enjoy dancing too, sweetie. Being able to express your feelings and emotions with your body is one of the most amazing things in the world! I learned some during my university days and especially love Butoh, a contemporary dance originated from Japan (we'll take about this next time). Remember yesterday you asked me what is "University"? I explained. When you were 5, you went to nursery and most of the time you played games, sang songs, coloured some pretty pictures, learned the alphabets and counted till 20. Then the next year, when you were 6, you were in kindergarten. You learned some words, adding and deducting numbers, and still did the fun things. And now, you are in primary school. We (yes, including mommy) go to primary school from 7 year old till you’re 12. The uniform is dark blue in colour. Here, you learn more things, have homework and participate in sports. It’s so cute to see you playing badminton.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;So, after primary school, and when you are much taller, you will attend secondary school. Remember, the light blue dress for the girls and dark green pants for the boys? Here, you’ll be learning a lot more serious stuff to prepare you for college and university a few years to come. Sweetie, it’s all called education. Mommy went through all those and the last place I took exams were in University Malaya in 1995. I was studying dance, theatre, music and how to make movies and tv shows. I too took basic ballet lessons and lots more. It was a really fun time and now, mommy has a job that takes care of all of us. So, pumpkin, getting a good education is to prepare yourself to face the society and to survive. Meaning, you will need to take care of yourself all by your own. You work, meet people, learn about the world. But don’t worry pumpkin, mommy will watch over you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;Only work? Of course not, pumpkin. Mommy, I, work hard and play hard. No Joke. You can always ask auntie GG and Kai Ma. But like I always say &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;“You do what you have to do, so that you can do what you want to do”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;. Yes, it’s back to that. Understand that I am not expecting straight As all the time. What I would like you to do is to always try your best. Getting a good education is more important than getting all As and, education continues till the day that we die.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;Someone named Robert Green Ingersoll said this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;“It is a thousand times better to have common sense without education than to have education without common sense.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt; Pumpkin, for me, I’d want both of us to have both education and common sense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;God Bless you, pumpkin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(102,51,102)"&gt;- Nelson Mandela -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-aa32dc90450cd0c3" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" 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href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/1357510649050619954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/education.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1357510649050619954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/1357510649050619954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/education.html' title='Of Frogs, Dinosaurs and Rapunzel Barbie'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-3959791891222579227</id><published>2009-08-11T12:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T14:10:48.667+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Priority</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;11th August 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;“&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;You do what you have to do, so that you can do what you want to do”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt; Yes, pumpkin. You’ve heard mommy telling you this many-many times. This quote is by a person named Professor Mel Tolson and, do you know why I kept telling you this? Simple. You do whatever that’s important first – like your homework, revision, and then, you can do what you like – watch cartoons, play with your Barbie dolls. So, the earlier you finish up your homework, the sooner you can play, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This applies to mommy as well. There are things that I need to do first before I can rest and ‘play’. I call it priority. What is priority? Well, my way of putting it - matter / people that is regarded as more important and needs to be attended to 1st. Priority – 1 thing, priorities – more than 1 thing. Yes, you can have more than 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every morning, I will sit down and write down the things that I need to do for the day. Then, I’ll plan how to do them and what time I need to do them. Why do I need to do all these? Well, this is to organize and to know my priorities for the day. And, it only takes like 10 minutes. Yes, it's like your school time table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes, things just won’t and don’t go the way I’ve planned it. Why? Well, sweetie, sometimes things just don’t go the way we want them to. Sometimes there are reasons for it and sometimes it just happen, and if we keep asking why, we’ll go crazy. Just try not to get too upset when things don’t go your way. ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what will mommy do then? I’ll just plan when I will or can do the particular thing again. For example: Mommy wants to watch a movie with Auntie GG and Kai Ma at 8pm tonight. But, I have not finished up my work in the office? So, I’ll arrange with Auntie GG and Kai Ma to go the next day. Why can’t I just leave? Well, pumpkin, working is the priority at that moment. It’s the thing that I need to pay attention to 1st. Why? It’s how mommy pays the bills and put food on the table. And, that brings us into another matter called ‘responsibility’ which we will talk about it in another letter, ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds too complicated, pumpkin? Just remember this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;“You do what you have to do, so that you can do what you want to do”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you, pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-3959791891222579227?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/3959791891222579227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/11th-august-2009-dear-jaymie-you-do.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3959791891222579227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/3959791891222579227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/11th-august-2009-dear-jaymie-you-do.html' title='Priority'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-898379664938711955</id><published>2009-08-07T15:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T18:06:08.040+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Loved Ones and Respect</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/Snve17TfUuI/AAAAAAAAABg/9oU-vwz5Fn0/s1600-h/Chill3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367128398975947490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/Snve17TfUuI/AAAAAAAAABg/9oU-vwz5Fn0/s320/Chill3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/Snve1XylPVI/AAAAAAAAABY/io3Ek5u6O6A/s1600-h/Chill2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367128389442682194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/Snve1XylPVI/AAAAAAAAABY/io3Ek5u6O6A/s320/Chill2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/Snve048FfNI/AAAAAAAAABQ/18Qxp_jyD4E/s1600-h/Chill4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367128381161045202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 304px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/Snve048FfNI/AAAAAAAAABQ/18Qxp_jyD4E/s320/Chill4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;7th August 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;Do you know why mommy always asks who sits next to you in the classroom? What is his or her name? How many people in your classroom? Do you know all of them? Who do you play with in school? What is ‘sai kow fu’s name? Who is Richard Tang?&lt;br /&gt;When we were queuing up for your KFC nuggets last Saturday, and you saw someone from school, I’d asked you to go say “hi” to him. Do you know why?&lt;br /&gt;Hmm... always too many questions... I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, pumpkin, we do not live alone in this world, nobody can live alone. We need to have family and friends. I am thankful that I have you, your ‘po-po’ and ‘gung-gung’, ‘tai kow fu’ and ‘sai kow fu’. You are all my family. Besides that I also have your ‘kai ma’ – Phoena, Auntie GG, Uncle Eric, Uncle Odeng, Auntie Lindsay, Auntie Marilyn, Uncle Edmund (sorry, Edmund, you tak layak dipanggil ko-ko oredy) who are my good friends. Pumpkin, I want to tell you that nothing in this world means anything without family, friends and loved ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you are happy, family, friends and loved ones will be there to share your happiness – meaning, they are happy that you are happy. When you are angry, you tell them what makes you angry, and they listen to you. When you are sad, they will make silly jokes to make you smile (but sometimes tak jadi lah, but you know they mean well). When you are afraid or scared, they tell you “I’ll give you courage, go!”. And when your mind is floating in the air, they are the one that pull you back to reality, keep you grounded, rational. Meaning – for example, I have 100 ringgit and I want to spend all on a pair of shoes. They will come around and smack my head and ask me, “do you really need the 100 ringgit shoes?” Then smack me again and tell me to buy something cheaper and keep the rest for rainy days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, pumpkin, we do not take our loved ones for granted, and that brings us to another thing that I want to tell you. It’s called ‘respect’. What is respect? Hmm.. some definition according to the online dictionary I’m looking at now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Verb: To feel or show deferential regard for; esteem&lt;br /&gt;Noun: A feeling of appreciation&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respect, for me, you can’t ask for it. You've got to earn in, and you start by respecting your ownself. And how to respect your ownself? You accept the way you are and be happy about it. You are who you are and don’t try to be somebody else. Got it? Always smile, be polite. Then, have respect for people around you. How to do this? I start by accepting who they are, the way they are and we don’t question them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, when we love and respect someone, we don’t gossip about him or her. What is ‘gossip’? Gossip is talking and telling about other people’s personal life, and most of the things are not true at all or just partly true. And most of the time also, the things that people gossip about have nothing much to do with you and is a total waste of time. Pumpkin darling, please, DON’T GOSSIP, ever. It’s one of the habits that mommy truly despises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that we don’t do to people that we love is ‘back stab’. Literally it means using a knife (or a lot of knives) and stab someone on the back. Here, it means talking bad about the person behind his or her back. Trust me, pumpkin. Words are sharper than knives, they hurt more. ‘Back stabbing’ is definitely really a bad-bad habit and is as bad as gossiping. So, NEVER EVER BACK STAB.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pumpkin, again, always stay true to yourself. It doesn’t really matter what you want to be when you grow up – rock star, skydiver, ballerina... as long as you don’t break the law, don’t do anything illegal and you earn enough to feed yourself and don’t need me to pay your rent every month. Got it? And, also... please don’t go around breaking people’s heart on purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you, pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-898379664938711955?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/898379664938711955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/of-loved-ones-and-respect.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/898379664938711955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/898379664938711955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/of-loved-ones-and-respect.html' title='Of Loved Ones and Respect'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/Snve17TfUuI/AAAAAAAAABg/9oU-vwz5Fn0/s72-c/Chill3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-2204006719250994397</id><published>2009-08-06T17:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T23:49:46.456+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Does Mommy Do?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6th August 2009&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dear Jaymie&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;You must be curious, why does mommy always sleep late, get up late and why ‘po-po’ kept on telling you not to disturb mommy when she’s resting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;“What’s with mommy anyway? Why can’t she wake up at 6.30am like I do?”&lt;br /&gt;...6.30am??... unless it is my call time or to catch a flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today, I’ll tell you what mommy does for a living. So... where to begin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Occupation: TV Producer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does a TV Producer do? Hmmm... actually, I’ve been asked thousands of times by friends, families, car mechanics, bank officers, nasi lemak makcik, char kuey teow uncle and the list goes on. To make it simple for you, pumpkin... The TV shows that you watch, they are all “made” by a lot of people and with a lot of equipment, and have to go through a lot of processes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the people are actors whose job is to play pretend. (So, pumpkin, Hannah Montana is “not real”. She is a girl named Miley Cyrus pretending to be Hannah Montana). The actors are people that talk, walk, sing and dance, being silly and so forth in front of the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot of other people that are “behind” the camera – the TV director who yells “Action!”, “Cut!”, like you saw on TV. This person will tell the actors how to play pretend in front of the camera. Your mommy, I, am the TV Producer. My job is to make sure that everyone do their work and that the show will go on TV. To do this, there are a lot of processes and I need to work with a lot of people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Processes are long and most of times, tiring. I start from doing the budget - that means how much money to spend to do the show and the schedule – means what day to do what for every single things. Then I need to look at the story that we are going to put on TV for people at home to watch. Usually there will be a person that writes the story. We call this person the “scriptwriter”, but, sometimes if money is not enough, I will write the stories myself (...hmmm without any extra fees pulak tu). Next, I will look for people to work with me. They are the director, people that put makeup on the pretty actors (we call then the “makeup artist”), people that look for nice houses, shops, offices and so forth for us to record and put on TV (we call them the “Location Manager”) and many-many more people. And sometimes I have to make sure that these people behave and nobody fights while working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the “shoot” begins. “Shoot”, pumpkin, doesn’t mean we use a gun and start shooting people on the street. It’s a common word we say when we use a camera to record the actors playing pretend on tapes. The “shoot” will last for days and sometimes months. These are the times, pumpkin, that mommy couldn’t spend much time with you. You see, sometimes we need to work from very-very early in the morning until very-very late at night. Yes, earlier than your school time and we stop when you are in dreamland combing Rapunzel Barbie’s hair. And sometimes we have to work on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after days and days and days of “shooting”, it’s time for editing. “Editing” means putting the pictures together. Imagine putting together 1 big piece of jigsaw puzzle. For this, we use a computer. The person that “plays” with the computer is called the Editor. The director (remember – the one that tells the actors how to play pretend) will check later if the “puzzle” is fit nicely and properly. There are times where mommy has to sit down and play the puzzle as well. Sounds like a game, right! Yeah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides that, mommy needs to come out with stories too and hopes that people will like them. Here, we call them “programme proposals”. Well, pumpkin, this is basically what mommy does everyday, from Monday till Saturday. And sometimes at home, mommy will work extra too, writing scripts and translating scripts. Translating scripts means I will write the stories again into another language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that’s why sometimes mommy sleeps so much on Sundays, as every other days, I’ll have to work hard and smart. I need a day to re-charge my energy – like putting in new batteries. But, whenever I’d holidays, I’d spent quality time with you, and this will not change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you asked me why I have to work, do you remember what I said? I said, I need to work so that I will have “cow cow” to buy food and new clothes, so that you can continue enjoying your ballet classes, to put petrol into the car so that we can go shopping and buy more Barbie dolls. Pumpkin, most importantly, I have to work hard for our better future, for your better future... not just to build your Barbie’s Kingdom and expand your shoes collection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God Bless you, Pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love&lt;/strong&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;br /&gt;P/S: We would like to thank Auntie GG for this pretty blog. Muah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-2204006719250994397?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/2204006719250994397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-does-mommy-do.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2204006719250994397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/2204006719250994397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-does-mommy-do.html' title='What Does Mommy Do?'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7570535543715397982.post-7788686459355855475</id><published>2009-08-05T20:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T01:16:47.350+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Happy Birthday, Jaymie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/Snl9Q12018I/AAAAAAAAAAM/TrBaC0Da-1Q/s1600-h/159_4929.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/Snl9Q12018I/AAAAAAAAAAM/TrBaC0Da-1Q/s320/159_4929.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366458159277070274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: lucida grande;font-family:'lucida grande',tahoma,verdana,arial,sans-serif;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;h5 class="self" style="border-top: 1px solid rgb(238, 238, 238); margin: 2px 0px 0px; padding: 3px 6px 1px; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(119, 119, 119);"&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;5&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; August 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Sweetie, you’re my rainbow in the sky,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Colours my life and makes me smile;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Pumpkin, I promise I will try,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;For you, I’ll walk the extra mile;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So captivating, to watch you run and fly,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;And I always give in with your “mommy, one more time!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Happy-Happy Birthday, my pumpkin pie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Know that I love you till the end of time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Dear Jaymie,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Happy-Happy Birthday, Pumpkin! You’re 7... big girl already and know that I love you so-so much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Pumpkin, I am so sorry that beginning this year  you have to celebrate your birthday separately with mommy and daddy. You didn’t ask much when I explained to you that daddy and I are not staying together anymore. You might not understand why, but, I want you to know that we both still love you the same. In fact, we love you more by each second, each moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Please trust us that you are and will always be our priority, my priority, and that’s why we have to do this. We have to find our happiness so that you will be happy too. You might not understand now, but, in the future I hope that you will. It wasn’t an easy decision and please know that mommy and daddy did try and the best way is to part ways. It broke my heart to see you watching us fight, argue and there were times that you stood in between us and told us to chill “..mommy, daddy.. don’t shout ok? ... we hold hands... group hug!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;And there were times too that you came to me, holding a packet of tissue papers in your tiny hands, wiped away my tears and told me “...mommy, don’t cry...” So young, so mature... and I’m so thankful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I am so-so sorry, pumpkin. We really didn’t mean to do this to you. Daddy and mommy had been too selfish and I promise you that I will not let you dry my tears anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I will be lying if I tell you that nothing changes. But Pumpkin, I promise you that all changes will be for your good, your happiness, for your better future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Happy Birthday, darling. May God Bless you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Love,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;/h5&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7570535543715397982-7788686459355855475?l=dearjaymie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/feeds/7788686459355855475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-happy-birthday-jaymie.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/7788686459355855475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7570535543715397982/posts/default/7788686459355855475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dearjaymie.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-happy-birthday-jaymie.html' title='Happy Happy Birthday, Jaymie'/><author><name>Sarah Yen Yen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10978306117966306055</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/S8cuAuft9pI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rpWFsgbjiVQ/S220/yen.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NyPukYVQRmY/Snl9Q12018I/AAAAAAAAAAM/TrBaC0Da-1Q/s72-c/159_4929.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
