<?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-824526587126267877</id><updated>2011-10-06T16:59:51.466+08:00</updated><category term='MRSMBP'/><category term='Abah'/><category term='Celebrations'/><category term='Merdeka'/><category term='firetruck'/><category term='New Year'/><category term='dinner'/><category term='renny'/><category term='hobbit'/><category term='Politics'/><category term='IKLCC'/><category term='Election'/><category term='memories'/><category term='Baby'/><category term='Batch 89'/><category term='Elise'/><category term='Ramblings'/><category term='flu'/><category term='In Memoriam'/><category term='cake'/><category term='work'/><category term='advertisements'/><category term='dinosaur'/><category term='friends'/><category term='StudioLine Photography'/><category term='business'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='Eric'/><category term='bumblebee'/><category term='reunion'/><category term='party'/><category term='Snowman'/><category term='hubby'/><category term='school'/><category term='Cicakman'/><category term='Rantings'/><category term='movie'/><category term='hopelutions'/><category term='Hud'/><category term='Kak Shikin'/><category term='food'/><category term='festival'/><category term='Fashion'/><category term='multi-tasking'/><category term='X2'/><category term='Promotion'/><category term='National Treasure'/><category term='Elixir'/><category term='Elijaz'/><category term='love'/><category term='beginning'/><category term='Father&apos;s Day'/><category term='Mom'/><category term='90s rock'/><title type='text'>It's Time For Cake!</title><subtitle type='html'>There's time for everything. And there's always time for cake.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>47</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-7278960414159618268</id><published>2011-10-06T16:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T16:59:51.509+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Babies Everywhere!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's baby season all around me! Photos of adorable little babies are flooding my FB, and while I am so happy that my friends are blessed with these gorgeous little beings, I can't help but feel down that a second one doesn't seem to be on the way yet for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truthfully, I can guess why I am not yet privileged to receive this gift. And seeing my Lil' Boy reminds me every day how I am truly blessed to be his Mommy and I hope that I don't mess him up in the future! I can't believe how much I love him, and I am eternally thankful to the Almighty for giving me such a sweet, friendly and gorgeous boy, with a smile so radiant, and a laugh so bubbly. Even writing this makes me miss him so much, although he's just a few feet away from me, playing on the lawn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, my heart just aches for another baby. I hope I am able to give my Lil' Boy a Lil' Sibling some day. In the meantime, I'll just smother him with kisses and thank God every day for this wonderful boy.&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/824526587126267877-7278960414159618268?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/7278960414159618268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=7278960414159618268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7278960414159618268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7278960414159618268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2011/10/babies-everywhere.html' title='Babies Everywhere!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-3464816006176808156</id><published>2010-11-17T18:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T19:06:07.398+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby'/><title type='text'>Approaching the big ONE!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hi all! Sorry for the long silence. Been so preoccupied with my Lil' Boy and business. We've finally moved house, although, technically, we're still staying at my parents' at the moment. We really hope we'll move in before Lil' Boy's first birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's right. My Lil' Boy is gonna be ONE! That means, a year ago, I was feeling Lil' Bean (as he was then!), kicking my inner bits. I was also seeing the Good Doctor around the same amount as Fella. And Fella and I were going crazy shopping for Lil' Bean's arrival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still can't believe that Lil' Boy is here. I thank &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Allah&lt;/span&gt; every day for giving him to me, and hope I am able to provide Lil' Boy with everything he needs &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;untuk dunia dan akhirat&lt;/span&gt; (in life and beyond). I am engulfed with love every time I see his face; his sweet smile, his cheeky grin, his quizzical look and even his cranky expressions. I love his amazement over his hands, especially his realisation that he can move his wrists (which he does so often!), his dinosaur growls, his bubbly laugh.. There are no words to describe how much I love this Boy. Even now, I'm watching him sleep as I write this, and all I wanna do is just snuggle up to him and smother him with kisses!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fella and I are hoping to throw his first birthday party next month - maybe &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Aqiqah, cukur jambul, naik buai &lt;/span&gt;and&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; doa selamat&lt;/span&gt; in the morning, and a party in the evening. A lot of planning needs to be done, and so many friends and family to invite, as so many people helped pray for Lil' Boy to come into our lives, and the least we could do is to share this special occasion with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, though, I can't believe Lil' Boy is gonna be one in less than two weeks' time. Time flies so fast! He's also growing up so fast, with sprouting teeth like there's no tomorrow, and trying to start walking. On one hand, I want him to be my baby forever, but on the other hand, there's so much I want him to experience and explore, and I can't wait for those moments to come! So I guess I'll just have to let nature take its course, and enjoy Lil' Boy while he's still lil'!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe it's now time for another lil' one? :)&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/824526587126267877-3464816006176808156?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/3464816006176808156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=3464816006176808156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3464816006176808156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3464816006176808156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2010/11/approaching-big-one.html' title='Approaching the big ONE!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-4304006851840821775</id><published>2010-06-04T01:27:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T02:14:13.384+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>The Arrival of Lil Bean</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/TAfwE9thsTI/AAAAAAAAAIs/2RbV-mpM9J4/s1600/_MG_5467.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/TAfwE9thsTI/AAAAAAAAAIs/2RbV-mpM9J4/s320/_MG_5467.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478611439795155250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/TAfwE9thsTI/AAAAAAAAAIs/2RbV-mpM9J4/s1600/_MG_5467.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Many things have happened since I saw you last. First things first, Lil Bean came early at 37 weeks! I had to have a C-section as the placenta had stopped working. Imagine.. on my checkup the previous Thursday, Lil Bean was 2.7kg. The following Monday, his weight dropped to 2.4kg. Needless to say, Fella and I were darn scared. We were told to admit ourselves to the hospital immediately. We were stunned, scared but excited cos finally the long weight was over. Lil Bean was coming!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch, we made our way to the hospital. My hospital bag was already in the car. We got our room, and soon were on the way to the labour room to monitor Lil Bean's heartbeat. The Good Doctor said that if Lil Bean's heartbeat was not how it was supposed to be, it would have to be an emergency C-section. Only God knew how I felt at that time. I rubbed my belly, and whispered to Lil Bean to be strong. Thank God his heartbeat was normal! The C-section was then scheduled for the next day, which was a Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in the room, I realised that I had only packed a change of clothes for fella! I had prepared my stuff and Lil Bean's stuff, and totally forgot about Fella's stuff! Sorry, hon. Fella went home to pick up more clothes. My parents and sister came by to show their support and promised to come again the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night Fella and I held each other, nervous and excited. We talked to Lil Bean, and told him that we love him and that we'll see each other soon. Just come out healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, as I was wheeled into the OT, many thoughts were racing in my head. The Good Doctor had warned us before this that Lil Bean would come out when I was at 37 weeks, but we were trying to negotiate to deliver at 38 weeks.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Boleh tak?&lt;/span&gt; The reason was because we were supposed to move into our new house, and I wanted to get most of the things done before I delivered. Needless to say, the Good Doctor was not amused. Thinking back, I think he knew that Lil Bean was in distress.. he just didn't want to alarm us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I went down that stark hallway, I prayed to God to please keep Lil Bean safe. Let him be born healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fella came into the OT just after they administered the local anaesthetic. I would be conscious throughout the delivery - I just wouldn't feel any pain. Fella sat next to me and held my hand. We couldn't see the procedure as a curtain blocked our view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, I felt no pain, although I could feel some light tugging. The nurse holding my other hand told me to be ready, Lil Bean was coming out soon. Fella and I looked at each other. He mouthed "I love you" and kissed my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, a flurry of activity. Suddenly I heard the sweetest sound I've ever heard; Lil Bean's cry. Immediately tears welled up in my eyes. Fella looked at me, teary eyed as well and squeezed my hand. My baby's finally here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fella had brought in his DSLR. He had taken photos of me during the procedure, and was about to take the most important shot of all. Lil Bean's first ever photo. He got that first shot - Lil Bean's face all scrunched up, umbilical cord freshly cut. Even now, it's the most gorgeous photo I have ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They cleaned Lil Bean up and handed him to Fella, to recite the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;azan&lt;/span&gt; in his ears. Then, they handed him to me. My Lil Boy. I gave him a kiss as I looked at his face for the very first time. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Alhamdulillah&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;, syukur kepada Allah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. My Boy was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Lil Boy came to this world on 1 December 2009. He weighed just 2.42kg. The Good Doctor told me that we were just in time. Had we waited just a few more days, he would have been in distress and in danger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thanked &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Allah&lt;/span&gt; for giving me a gorgeous and healthy son. I couldn't believe how in love I am with this boy I had only laid eyes on a few minutes ago. The long wait was well worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll tell you more about Lil Boy another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, all I want to do is to just kiss him.&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/824526587126267877-4304006851840821775?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/4304006851840821775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=4304006851840821775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4304006851840821775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4304006851840821775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2010/06/arrival-of-lil-bean.html' title='The Arrival of Lil Bean'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/TAfwE9thsTI/AAAAAAAAAIs/2RbV-mpM9J4/s72-c/_MG_5467.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-7254241413795614808</id><published>2009-10-23T17:47:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T17:57:54.912+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>8.5 Weeks &amp; Counting..</title><content type='html'>The third trimester is already here, and without realising, I have only about 8.5 weeks to go till Lil Bean is born.. How time flies..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting scared and excited at the same time. Sometimes I just can't wait for Lil Bean to arrive, but then I get so scared because I'm nowhere near prepared to welcome Lil Bean into this world:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) The new house isn't anywhere near ready to move into&lt;br /&gt;2) I haven't even started packing&lt;br /&gt;3) Our total number of baby stuff is 6 rompers, 1 hoodie and 1 cute cow bottle Fella bought in Geneva (this includes the 1 romper &amp;amp; hoodie which I've misplaced!)&lt;br /&gt;4) I've only just started reading up on labour and contractions&lt;br /&gt;5) I know squat about everything else!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I get all excited again when I see Lil Bean's little face in 3D. We did a 3D scan recently, and though Lil Bean was shy at first, we finally managed to see such a cute face at the end (my chin &amp;amp; Fella's nose!). Now it's my wallpaper everywhere, and I can just stare at that picture all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait too see you my little darling!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-7254241413795614808?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/7254241413795614808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=7254241413795614808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7254241413795614808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7254241413795614808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2009/10/85-weeks-counting.html' title='8.5 Weeks &amp; Counting..'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-7508954158523399510</id><published>2009-08-11T10:16:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T10:34:01.662+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celebrations'/><title type='text'>Happy Weekend!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Last weekend was full of happy news and food. On 07.08.09 my sis gave birth to an adorable baby boy (who is still nameless at this point in time), and my BIL got hitched!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My newly married BIL is fella's youngest brother, and the last to get married. His wife was his Form 2 sweetheart (sweet, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kan&lt;/span&gt;?). &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Alhamdulillah&lt;/span&gt;, so many relatives, neighbours and friends came to the wedding held at the family home in Gombak, and fella, especially, only managed to sit down at 4pm. I, on the other hand, sat whenever I could, because Lil Bean either was very excited or very annoyed by the crowd, or the fact that I was walking around, because, boy, did it kick me furiously!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, I'm now 21 weeks pregnant, still not showing so much, but Lil Bean is doing its best to make its presence known. I still don't know if Lil Bean is a he or she, but I'm happy with either, although most of the baby names I've picked out have already been chosen by friends and family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new nephew came by way of c-section at 3.18pm, although my brother was advocating for the nicer time of 12:34:56 on 7.8.09. He looks like his brother Elijaz, although he's fair like Elixir. Unfortunately, I only managed to see him once as my time was entirely devoted to BIL's wedding, so hopefully I'll see more of him when he comes home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, with the happy news comes the bad news (at least for me!). The weekend ended with a very sore back for me, and yesterday was spent sleeping and resting. Thankfully, today I feel much better, and I think Lil Bean is too, because its kicks aren't that hard anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till next time then!&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/824526587126267877-7508954158523399510?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/7508954158523399510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=7508954158523399510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7508954158523399510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7508954158523399510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-weekend.html' title='Happy Weekend!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-1629966124187531388</id><published>2009-06-21T23:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T00:13:25.206+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Abah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Father&apos;s Day'/><title type='text'>A Note To My Dad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Sj5cFfUTdRI/AAAAAAAAAIc/3YFY37ZCGy0/s1600-h/Hj+Ismail+%26+Ema.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Sj5cFfUTdRI/AAAAAAAAAIc/3YFY37ZCGy0/s320/Hj+Ismail+%26+Ema.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349814656738489618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Abah,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for being there for me. Thanks for all the love and opportunities, and blind eyes towards my many 'misadventures'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for putting family first. Thanks for never making us want for anything. Thanks for the wonderful partnership you have with Mak in making our childhood and lives filled with love and laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I wasn't the model child (and still aren't!). Sorry for all the grief I've ever caused. Sorry for not making enough time to spend with you and Mak, believe me I'm trying to change all that. Thanks for loving me anyway despite all these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for being my Dad. Happy Father's Day!&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/824526587126267877-1629966124187531388?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/1629966124187531388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=1629966124187531388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1629966124187531388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1629966124187531388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2009/06/note-to-my-dad.html' title='A Note To My Dad'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Sj5cFfUTdRI/AAAAAAAAAIc/3YFY37ZCGy0/s72-c/Hj+Ismail+%26+Ema.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-4736581210786131802</id><published>2009-05-29T22:49:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T12:04:21.974+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby'/><title type='text'>A Birthday I Won't Forget :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's my birthday today and I received the best gift I could ever get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, around the same time I was born 34 years ago, I saw my Little Bean's arms and legs for the first time. The Little Bean was moving and squirming, probably wondering where he/she is, 'cos the Little Bean was, according to the Good Doctor, scratching its little head quite a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now 10 1/2 weeks' pregnant, my first pregnancy after nearly 8 years of marriage. So far the pregnancy has been good. I haven't thrown up at all, having very mild morning sickness, and only having short bouts of nausea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a feeling my Little Bean will actually not be so little, judging from the amount of unhealthy food I've been shovelling into my mouth for the past few weeks. The closest thing I've had to vegetables are mashed/baked/fried potatoes and coleslaw (eek!). One good thing is that I eat less food in each serving, but I need more servings than usual, so this kinda negates the first statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been feeling rather lethargic, which I think is both caused by the pregnancy as well as the terrible hot weather we've been having lately, and have been denied exercise by the Good Doctor, so I feel like a beached whale most of the time. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be seeing the Little Bean in 1 1/2 weeks' time, and I seriously can't wait. That week, the Good Doctor says that we can probably see the nose and some other features. In that time, I'll be at the end of the 1st trimester, and can finally share news about the Little Bean with the whole world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Bean, Alhamdulillah you're finally in me. I can't wait to see you again, even if it's only through wavy monochrome lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay safe in there, Little Bean. Mommy will see you again soon :)&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/824526587126267877-4736581210786131802?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/4736581210786131802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=4736581210786131802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4736581210786131802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4736581210786131802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2009/05/birthday-i-wont-forget.html' title='A Birthday I Won&apos;t Forget :)'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-9144414141058483398</id><published>2009-04-03T16:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T16:43:19.976+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyone missed me? :p</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sorry haven't been blogging for so long.. My excuse? No ideas. I used to think I was a writer when I was a kid, and I've written my fair share of poems, stories, essays, scripts and etc. during my schooldays. Unfortunately, this is not a hobby I've pursued since, and apart from this blog, the only things I've written lately are shopping lists and travel itineraries, which can hardly be called literary works :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I've been quite preoccupied with work, home and most important of all, some things (actually, mostly One) on my &lt;a href="http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-hath-cometh.html"&gt;hopelutions list&lt;/a&gt;, and I must tell you it hasn't been easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I envy those who do not have to go through what I have to, I am happy that they are blessed the way they are, and I wish no one else has to go through it as well, although God has reasons for why some things are the way they are. Am I being too cryptic? If you know me, you'll know what I mean. I'll probably start another blog on this topic if I can find the time (and if I can remember what happened!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to say thank you to my dearest, dearest fella, for loving me enough to go through this with me without complaint, but with ultimate sweetness and devotion; my wonderful parents, who are living proof that love for (at times difficult!) offspring has no bounds, and are willing to go on this journey with fella &amp;amp; I; my siblings (in-laws included) and their families, who have been pillars of support and love; and my lovely friends who have helped keep me in their thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this is the beginning of a new journey for fella &amp;amp; I.. and I hope my next entry will not be so cryptic and have the news I've been hoping for! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See ya!&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/824526587126267877-9144414141058483398?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/9144414141058483398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=9144414141058483398' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/9144414141058483398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/9144414141058483398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2009/04/anyone-missed-me-p.html' title='Anyone missed me? :p'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-1684555690648190651</id><published>2009-01-06T13:41:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T09:46:02.826+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hopelutions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year'/><title type='text'>The New Year Hath Cometh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Happy New Year everyone! I have decided to do away with resolutions this year, 'cos I have never (not once!) managed to list down resolutions, let alone attempt to do any in my entire lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;However, I have decided to come up with "hopelutions" or "wisholutions" which are things I hope/wish to do this year:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;ONE: I hope this will be the year of little feet running (or crawling/kicking-whichever is applicable) in my house and life. And no, this does not include my dear Kengkang cat on his visits from my parents' house, or my little nieces &amp;amp; nephews running through the house. And little one, if you do come this year, I promise to not show you all the bills and receipts on trying to have you, unless you misbehave. Oh. And I also promise to love you forever, no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;TWO: I hope that our business will continue to flourish, and we're finally able to expand and diversify like we've always dreamed of doing. I also hope to embark on new business ventures, especially with mom &amp;amp; sis and hope that that business will also do well. To my computer, although you're not a Mac, I hope to love you anyway, and in turn hope that you will always be sufficiently protected from viruses. And if you do succumb to that virus, I hope I will be of sound mind enough not to throw you across the room or beat you senseless with a tyre wrench. Well, at least, not until I backup all my important files.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;THREE: I hope that my friends still want to be my friends, 'cos I've seriously neglected so many last year. Not by choice, though, but still.. when the only way you know what's going on in your friends' life is via stalker central aka FB, something needs to be done. I hope I'll be able to catch up with my friends more, and gossip and share like we used to before spouses and bills came between us. To my dear, close friends, I'm so sorry for not being there when you needed me last year, and for not being part of your lives, even though you guys were there for me for everything. I hope this will change this year. Just bear with me, and I hope we haven't grown too far apart for this to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;FOUR: I hope to cook more adventurous dishes this year. And hopefully eat balanced meals so I can at least just maintain how I look now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;FIVE: To my fella, I hope to be a better wife, partner, getaway driver and person to you. And I hope to do laundry more often so we're never short of er..underthings. And I hope our dreams will come true this year (re: items ONE &amp;amp; TWO) and hope that our relationship and love will grow stronger as we grow older (although I'm eternally 26 years old, if anyone asks!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;SIX: To my family (in-laws included!), I hope to be a better daughter, sister and person to all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;SEVEN: To my house, I hope to take care of you much better. I will strive to dust and mop you more, and occasionally do the windows. To my hob, hood and kitchen cabinets, I hope to take care of you more, and wipe you down after every mess. To my lawn, you will be loved. I shall strive not to allow weeds to start dwelling. To our newly Bonuslink-points-redeemed B&amp;amp;D grasscutter, I shall make good use of you more. No more will you reside in that pristine new box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;EIGHT: To my nieces and nephews (current and future), I hope to have more food in the kitchen and fridge for you, and more toys for you to play with when you're in my house. I hope to be able to bring you out more and be a fun Aunt. Although if I don't, you're welcome to my house anytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;NINE: To my neighbours and security guards, I hope you understand that my fella and I at times either don't leave the house all day, or go out and come back only in the wee hours of the morning. Please understand that this is all business related and we hope to come to and join in any neighbourhood activities if our schedules permit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;TEN: To myself, I hope I'll make me even more proud of myself this year. I hope to attempt to do all of the above and be a better person overall. I hope to be able to travel more and do more for the community. And I hope to do all these with better hair, skin, teeth &amp;amp; clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Have a good 2009 people!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-1684555690648190651?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/1684555690648190651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=1684555690648190651' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1684555690648190651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1684555690648190651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-hath-cometh.html' title='The New Year Hath Cometh'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-1350820106265542795</id><published>2008-12-15T20:27:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T20:46:45.768+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>Cheese!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SUZRnO7qNVI/AAAAAAAAAIE/o5cxMMEutKY/s1600-h/mozzarella_cheese.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279997347603559762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SUZRnO7qNVI/AAAAAAAAAIE/o5cxMMEutKY/s320/mozzarella_cheese.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I love cheese. If you want to be my friend, get me cheese. Any type of cheese is fine, except for the extra smelly ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I read with uncontainable excitement in &lt;a href="http://test.chedet.com/che_det/2008/12/mozzarella-cheese.html#more"&gt;Tun M's blog&lt;/a&gt; that there is now a mozzarella cheese-making factory in Langkawi. Efforts to google this wondrous place came up empty and now I am obsessed with finding out where this factory is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I am also now interested in making my own cheese (though I'm sure this will go away very soon), although at the current prices, I think buying one gallon of milk to make cheese will be costlier than buying a block of cheese.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;If it were up to me, I'd put cheese in every dish, but I don't want to be responsible for the bouts of food poisoning which may probably happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So.. I end this now so I can dream of cheese.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(&lt;em&gt;Pic courtesy of &lt;a href="http://www.stockphotography.com/"&gt;stockphotography.com&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-1350820106265542795?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/1350820106265542795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=1350820106265542795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1350820106265542795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1350820106265542795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/12/cheese.html' title='Cheese!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SUZRnO7qNVI/AAAAAAAAAIE/o5cxMMEutKY/s72-c/mozzarella_cheese.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-5994077664333436105</id><published>2008-10-22T19:25:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T20:14:53.525+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dinner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>Fella's Birthday Dinner</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I didn't make a cake for my fella's birthday. One, I didn't have time. Two, since moving to our own place, I didn't have time to buy bakeware (used to &lt;em&gt;pau&lt;/em&gt; all Mom's bakeware + oven when we were living at my parents!). Three, I only have a teeny round electric oven which I got by redeeming Bonuslink points.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;So anyway.. I just made him dinner. The menu was: fresh onion soup (with invisible cheese toast), steak with creamy turmeric sauce with creamy potato salad and banoffee pie for dessert. The reason the cheese toast was invisible was because I didn't have time to make it because we were trying to catch The Amazing Race Asia at 9 pm (So romantic, &lt;em&gt;kan&lt;/em&gt;?). In the end we managed to miss TARA, but made it for 24, so all was not lost :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Anyway... I forced the birthday boy to take photos of only the main course, so enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259939755259165490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SP8PVswtezI/AAAAAAAAAHo/-AZjOITp-WM/s320/Steak+%26+potato+salad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-5994077664333436105?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/5994077664333436105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=5994077664333436105' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/5994077664333436105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/5994077664333436105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/10/fellas-birthday-dinner.html' title='Fella&apos;s Birthday Dinner'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SP8PVswtezI/AAAAAAAAAHo/-AZjOITp-WM/s72-c/Steak+%26+potato+salad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-7966095255262524965</id><published>2008-10-16T22:24:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T19:24:32.673+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>My Fella :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SP8NM_xGy4I/AAAAAAAAAHg/qbV864inuyM/s1600-h/BW.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259937406719019906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SP8NM_xGy4I/AAAAAAAAAHg/qbV864inuyM/s320/BW.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today is my hubby's birthday. We've known each other for about 10 years, and been married to 7 of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Yep. Seven years. Unfortunately, we haven't been blessed with any little ones, though that's in my prayers everyday. (But that's a different story). So instead, we've spent these years learning about each other and loving each other either more, or in spite of what we've learnt. Heh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;What I love about my fella is that he gets me. He knows me and he surprises me when I think he hasn't been listening. We think the same things, we finish each other's sentences and we voice each other's thoughts. And though we spend nearly every minute together, there are still things to talk about, and stories to share.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I'm blessed to have my fella in my life. And I hope he feels the same way about me too. (&lt;em&gt;Sidenote: Yang, you'd better!!!&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I love you, yang :)&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/824526587126267877-7966095255262524965?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/7966095255262524965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=7966095255262524965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7966095255262524965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7966095255262524965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-fella.html' title='My Fella :)'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SP8NM_xGy4I/AAAAAAAAAHg/qbV864inuyM/s72-c/BW.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-7750373522689420886</id><published>2008-10-09T11:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T18:48:48.275+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rantings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><title type='text'>*Sigh*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I received a comment for my &lt;a href="http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/08/towards-our-51st-merdeka.html"&gt;previous post&lt;/a&gt;, which questioned my views and basically said I know nothing about politics and whatnot. I choose not to post the comment because I like sunshine and happiness and everything positive in my comments section, but I will address the comment here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;One : I am not a politician, and I don't aspire to be one although I come from a long line of patriots and stalwart UMNO politicians, many of which have served or are still serving our beloved country. I don't profess to know politics, I am not influenced by anyone's views and all my views are just that-they are my views.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Two : What I've written is my personal observation on today's state of affairs. It makes me sad, because among others, race relations and the country's peace and stability have been affected as a result. It bothers me because I love the Malaysia I grew up in, and I want that Malaysia to still be around for the younger generations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hopefully in light of recent declarations, the country will go back to how it once was. And to me, for it to do that, we still need the present party to lead us. I still believe the country is in peril if it falls to the opposition, but the future leadership has to be strong enough to convince and prove to us that they are capable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My only humble advice to those wanting positions in the party, if you're in it only for the position and the glamour, stop it. We want someone who can do the work and embrace the responsibility. People's faith in the party has eroded, so we need someone to strengthen and restore that faith. If you are that person, then by all means, run. If you're not, think hard and see if all that personal gain you're aiming for is worth ruining the party and worse, ultimately the country.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Again, all views and observations are my own. The only motivation behind these types of posts is wanting my Malaysia back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-7750373522689420886?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/7750373522689420886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=7750373522689420886' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7750373522689420886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7750373522689420886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/10/sigh.html' title='*Sigh*'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-4253205106020538200</id><published>2008-08-27T11:37:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T09:31:57.597+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rantings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Merdeka'/><title type='text'>Towards our 51st Merdeka</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So PKR won Permatang Pauh. Yawn. A safe seat, at best, and weak opponents, in my opinion. Not to fault BN, because there's truly no suitable opponent, unless it was Tun Mahathir himself. Mind you, I'm not saying that DSAI is a good candidate, because I tell you, if he had the oratory skills of er, shall I say, a certain ex-minister who sort of embarassed himself and us when interviewed by a certain foreign media, he wouldn't even be where he is today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;To me, DSAI is all hype. He has the speech and charm and he has stepped into an era where people want change. But what kind of change has he wrought? Street demonstrations &amp;amp; protests, street violence, particularly towards the media and running to foreign powers for help when things don't go his way. And when all else fails, he has his bad back to fall on, pun intended. But is that the Malaysian way? For years, we've enjoyed peace. We read the papers, we congregate at &lt;em&gt;kedai kopi-s&lt;/em&gt; and complain about everything under the sun. We write and complain to our assemblymen, and media, whenever we have grouses. We watch the news and see street demonstrations &amp;amp; violence happening all around the world and thank God that that's not the situation in our country.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today, it's a different life. Ever since that stupid (pardon my strong language) &lt;em&gt;Reformasi&lt;/em&gt; movement, life has changed for Malaysians everywhere. Hardcore supporters would say that it's a welcome change, but is it really? To me, we're now no different from countries who throw away their leaders like yesterday's stale bread. To be fair, part of the blame lies on the present weaker government. Wishy-washy decisions, weak leaders and outdated policies need to be addressed immediately, and to me, we still need the present government (albeit a change in the leaders. perhaps?) to bring us back to the situation when the great Tun was our leader.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I fear that if (God forbid!) another coalition rules the country, Malaysia will be another Iraq or the other countries governed indirectly by the US. Don't throw rocks at me, it is going to happen, if a certain party leads the nation. You can already see it now, the secret meetings with foreign representatives, running to other embassies for assistance, slamming our beloved nation in other countries. It doesn't help that youngsters nowadays lack the pride and love for our country that we have, and which sadly, most of my generation is also starting to lose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;For all that we dislike about the US, one thing can be said about them. They are proud of their country and their flag. They rally around each other when situations need them to. Can that be said about Malaysia? Are we already losing our identity, when we are still such a young country? That's what I fear. Already, not too long ago, &lt;em&gt;Bahasa Baku&lt;/em&gt; was implemented, which to me, sounded too much like a neighbouring country's language, which, to me, was the beginning of the erosion of our nation from what it once was. Although &lt;em&gt;Bahasa Baku&lt;/em&gt; has now been curbed, I still remember who introduced it, as well as all the foreign elements I've mentioned above.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;To me, that is unforgivable. I cannot forgive such a person for changing this country for the worse. I cannot forgive such a person who lacks so much respect for this country that he/she is willing to badmouth us to any foreign power who wants to listen, yet harbours ambition to rule us all. I cannot forgive such a person who makes a mockery of our democratic system by "suggesting" to his loyal supporters to vacate the seats which we, the people, have chosen them for, so he/she could pursue his own political agenda. I cannot forgive such a person who changes his/her views to suit whichever audience he/she is facing, even if that means he/she is betraying his/her race or people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And for now, I cannot forgive the situation that has forced such a person onto us all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Our country will be 51 come Sunday (which incidentally coincides with my 7th wedding anniversary!). I pray for her long life and prosperity, and hope that the worst won't happen, because I need for the Malaysia that I know to still be around for my grandchildren.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Selamat Hari Merdeka&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-4253205106020538200?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/4253205106020538200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=4253205106020538200' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4253205106020538200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4253205106020538200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/08/towards-our-51st-merdeka.html' title='Towards our 51st Merdeka'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-4632476375080166595</id><published>2008-07-03T11:45:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T19:27:54.681+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Mom!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SG3nA0L1lFI/AAAAAAAAAF4/dSn3Z38_W2w/s1600-h/Dato%27+Ainon+Khariyah+web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219081544386581586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SG3nA0L1lFI/AAAAAAAAAF4/dSn3Z38_W2w/s400/Dato%27+Ainon+Khariyah+web.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;My Mom, and her favourite pastime, before the era of the blog&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today is my mom's birthday. Due to the fear of repercussion (heh!), I shall not tell you how old she is, but just tell you that she looks younger than her age.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My mom is the kind of person I hope to be, but have yet to be. And don't even know if I can be half the person she is today. Sure, I blame some "quirks" on my mom, i.e. the short eyebrows and the tummy rumblings when I don't eat at the desired time. Not to mention the sudden leg cramps at night (yep, Mom, I inherited that as well). But all things considered, these "quirks" are special because these are things I share with my mom. OKlah.. unfortunately all my siblings inherited the short eyebrows thing, so note to all, if in doubt as to whether we're related, just look at our eyebrows.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I am lucky to have a mom like mine. She always had time for us, even at the peak of her political career, and boy, did she have patience, even when I threw up all over her at the beginning of a long flight to US when I was just a wee 2 year old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;At an early age, she and my dad introduced us to our love of food, books and travel. And normally we'd do all three at the same time. When we were in US, I remember my parents being the ideal hosts. Everyone congregated at our house, and birthday parties and gatherings were the best. Everyone loved my Mom's cooking and relished at any excuse to go to our house. (I wish I knew people like my parents when I was studying overseas!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My parents loved to pack us up and drive everywhere whenever they could. My siblings and I are fortunate to have travelled so much in our lifetime, which is a big thanks to my parents. They always found a way to take us somewhere, even when they were earning teachers' salaries. Even now, we make it a point to have a family holiday once a year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;My mom did it all. She is a great wife, a great mother, a great &lt;em&gt;Opah&lt;/em&gt;, a great daughter, a great sister, a great teacher and a great leader. I only hope one day I'll be able to be like her. In the meantime, I'll just invest in eyebrow pencils to make my brows look longer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Happy birthday, &lt;em&gt;Mak&lt;/em&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/824526587126267877-4632476375080166595?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/4632476375080166595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=4632476375080166595' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4632476375080166595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4632476375080166595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/07/happy-birthday-mom.html' title='Happy Birthday Mom!!!!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SG3nA0L1lFI/AAAAAAAAAF4/dSn3Z38_W2w/s72-c/Dato%27+Ainon+Khariyah+web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-7984558431636405585</id><published>2008-05-26T15:36:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T17:12:02.081+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MRSMBP'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reunion'/><title type='text'>When Nostalgia Hits, It Sure Hits Hard!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SEtAH2zS0JI/AAAAAAAAAFw/AIBpx_JHmok/s1600-h/nostalgia+text+preview.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209327897698029714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SEtAH2zS0JI/AAAAAAAAAFw/AIBpx_JHmok/s320/nostalgia+text+preview.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;The past few months I've been attacked by bouts of nostalgia. The reason? My alma mater, MRSM Balik Pulau, will be celebrating its Silver Jubilee this year. That means, it's been 19 years since I've first stepped foot on MRSMBP soil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Together with this celebration, a few of my fellow batch-mates, or fellow Batch '89ers ("89" denoting the year we entered MRSM, and not the year of SPM) felt that a reunion was long overdue, so we decided to organise a reunion dinner on 26 July 2008 in Penang.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;What brought on these influx of memories is that ever since we decided to have this reunion, we've been meeting up more often, and our once-dormant yahoogroup has been beseiged by a deluge of emails in the past few months. And as usual, this leads to talking and reminiscing about the good old days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;While I have reminisced about MRSM days &lt;a href="http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/11/friendship-without-strings.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/02/days-of-flying-saucers-nasi-lemak-pak.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;here&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, there are so many more memories which the 89ers were a part of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;For instance, only the 89ers were a part of the original batch which came in in Form 2, and had only 121 people, 25 of which were girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And only these 121 souls had homerooms with a maximum of 3 girls in it, with some sports houses having only four girls maximum representing it. My sports house, Suria, had only 4 girls, and the sad lot of us had to represent the house in all sports from athletics to team sports. Needless to say, the Suria girls were always near the bottom, if not there already.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And only the 25 girls knew how it felt to be teased mercilessly by most of the 96 boys, which only led to these girls learning how to stand up for themselves and holding their own against these boys. However, instead of declaring outright war against these boys, these 25 girls decided to stand up for them in Form 3 when the boys threatened to leave the MRSM &lt;em&gt;en masse&lt;/em&gt;, for reasons only we know, and persuaded them to stay. This strenghtened the bond we have 'til this day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;And, I believe, only the 89ers had the highest number of &lt;em&gt;kerja bakti&lt;/em&gt; "volunteers" (which nearly every original 89er was involved in) and &lt;em&gt;JDM&lt;/em&gt; "participants".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;And only the 89ers were the source of much rantings and frustrations by teachers, with many of us going through punishments which if were done this day, would probably be the cause of many lawsuits against the teaching profession. Hee. However, rather than complain to our parents, we were ashamed of our actions (rightfully so!), and opted to do the punishments quietly, hoping frantically that our parents wouldn't be informed. Unfortunately, that remorse lasted only briefly, and we were then back to our &lt;em&gt;hantu&lt;/em&gt; ways, figuring out new ways to aggravate the teachers and wardens.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Side Note&lt;/em&gt;: Such punishments included:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Having chalk, markers and/or whiteboard dusters being thrown at us, sometimes all in succession. This was normally if the student was sleeping in class.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The 4 steps of not knowing the answers to teachers' questions: Step 1 was standing, Step 2 was standing on the chair, Step 3 was standing on the table, Step 4 was standing with a table on your head. I think my highest level was Step 2. There was an implied Step 5, which meant leaving the class immediately. Step 6 was when the teacher had to look for the student who used this as an excuse to go missing entirely.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Washing the school bus. A form of &lt;em&gt;kerja bakti&lt;/em&gt;, normally reserved for groups of boys in trouble for different offences.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Raking the long jump box and pulling weed from the field. Another form of &lt;em&gt;kerja bakti&lt;/em&gt; for lesser offences. During the &lt;em&gt;jarum mas&lt;/em&gt; season, this &lt;em&gt;kerja bakti&lt;/em&gt; became quite the profitable activity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And only the 89ers were notorious for the co-op incident, which had probably contributed to any high blood pressure our teachers may now have. Which, rather unfortunately, our then vice-principal remembers to this day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And it was only our batch in Forms 2 &amp;amp; 3, who lived in the same dormitory block, where the boys lived downstairs and the girls upstairs. And it was only these girls who were regularly entertained by the guys bellowing songs like &lt;em&gt;Cintamu Mekar di Hati &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;Right Here Waiting&lt;/em&gt; at the top of their lungs downstairs. Heck, we never needed to buy radios and cassettes at the rate they were "serenading" us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And it was only our batch whose football team was both the Penang Under-15 and Under-18 champions. The Under-18 girls hockey team was also the Penang vice-champions. And it was our batch which had a representative who made 4th place in the Men's Junior Open category in the Penang International Triathlon in 1991.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;However, among the good memories, there are also some sad facts. Unfortunately, some of our friends are no longer with us, namely, Azman Yazit (Man Dayak), Husaini (Hussin), Rahman, Fadli Ayob (Korok) and Khairul (Romeo). &lt;em&gt;Al-Fatihah&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;Semoga Allah mencucuri rahmat ke atas roh-roh mereka.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;What I can say for my batch is that even though it's been nearly 16 years since most of us had last met, it's as if we last met yesterday. Every memory is as fresh as if it just happened, and most of us still look essentially the same, although some are *umm* a bit more vertical than they were before. Heh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Whatever it is, this batch shares a special bond. Even now, whenever any of us is in a fix, rest assured, help is on the way, no questions asked. The good thing is, I think I bond more with them now then I did when I was in school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;To all 89ers, I'm glad I got the chance to know you. I'm glad we grew up together and managed to be friends although we were all from different backgrounds. I'm glad we can still maintain a sense of loyalty to each other, although so many years have gone by. I'm glad no matter how much we fought or argued back then, that only served as a bond to strengthen our friendship further.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;And finally, I'm glad we're all sisters and brothers from another mother (heh!). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-7984558431636405585?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/7984558431636405585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=7984558431636405585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7984558431636405585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7984558431636405585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/05/when-nostalgia-hits-it-sure-hits-hard.html' title='When Nostalgia Hits, It Sure Hits Hard!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/SEtAH2zS0JI/AAAAAAAAAFw/AIBpx_JHmok/s72-c/nostalgia+text+preview.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-6539376077880332996</id><published>2008-05-06T19:34:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T01:04:36.069+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ramblings'/><title type='text'>What Happens When Writer's Block Strikes...</title><content type='html'>The setting: My bedroom&lt;div&gt;Attendance: Me (E) and my alter-ego, Little Boss (LB).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reason for interview: None&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is the interview going to start anytime soon?: Yes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Are you comfy there?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(Whilst reclining on bed) Uh-huh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;What do you wanna talk about?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Duh..aren't you supposed to interview me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;What did you do today?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Did some work. Updated my Mom's Mac. Made lunch for me and fella.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Fella and I.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Didn't make you lunch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I mean, the proper way to say it is "fella and I".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Oh. Are you the grammar police now?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Well, if you keep on mangling it, I very well might be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Are you trying to pick a fight? 'Cos I'm sensing very hostile vibes here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Wait.. let's start again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;OK. That's 2 minutes of my life I'm never getting back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Phbbbbth..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Now that's mature!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;OK..OK.. What are your plans for the evening?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Thought I'd go meet some old  MRSM friends. They're about the only ones I'm regularly meeting nowadays :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Haven't you met up with other friends?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;No. Been too busy and guilty to socialise. I miss my friends so much....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Oh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Looks into space, depressed&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So tell me.. why have you been meeting up with your MRSM friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We're having a reunion in July, so we're making plans and stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;That's nice! Where's the reunion going to be held?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Well, we have this Silver Jubilee thingy at MRSM itself, then later that night it's Part-ay Time at the hotel!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Must be fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is! Can't wait to see old friends again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;How's your married life?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;That's a bit out of the blue isn't it? Not to mention highly intrusive! &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kay Poh Chee &lt;/span&gt;much? One second we were talking about the reunion....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Just making conversation, OK?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Married life is great! Fella and I took a short break to Penang last weekend with the family and it was exactly what we needed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Are you traveling anywhere else soon?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Yep. We're going to Langkawi this weekend for an assignment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Wow. Two islands in two weekends. That must be fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It is! But don't know how much of the beach we can enjoy since the next trip is work related. Besides, fella isn't a beach bum. Which reminds me, I need to buy a swimming suit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It's 8.07pm. Shouldn't you be getting ready to go out?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Yikes! Can we continue this interview later?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Well.. it's quite a boring interview. You don't do anything interesting, do you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Getting depressed&lt;/span&gt;). Well thanks a lot, Mrs Obvious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Er.. you're welcome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Are you being sarcastic now?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Wha..huh???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Look... just because I don't bungee jump, or roll down hills in a plastic ball doesn't mean my life's boring, OK? I have my share of fun. Just this day I decided to make 2 separate lunches instead of 1.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LB:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Er...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Not only that, I made mashed potatoes from fried potatoes rather than boiled. And I used white pepper instead of black.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And to top it all off, I made fella &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;kopi susu&lt;/span&gt; with local black coffee instead of Nescafe today. How's that for excitement???!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;(&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pauses to assess her statements&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E:&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Who am I kidding? I'm Mrs Boring McBorington!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Error 404. Interview postponed due to interviewee having a slight nervous breakdown.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-6539376077880332996?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/6539376077880332996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=6539376077880332996' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/6539376077880332996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/6539376077880332996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/05/what-happens-when-writers-block-strikes.html' title='What Happens When Writer&apos;s Block Strikes...'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-3506030656671239626</id><published>2008-04-02T16:26:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T00:44:32.851+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='multi-tasking'/><title type='text'>Things to Do in the Car (Kids, don't try any of these EVER!)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);  font-family:verdana;"&gt;I have nice eyebrows today. And it's not because I went to a salon to have it done, but because I had to wait in the car for nearly an hour while my parents were in the bank.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;I am normally well-prepared. In my car, I have stocked the following items :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;i) &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A novel; normally fiction. Current book is "The Face" by Dean Koontz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;ii)&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A roll of sweets; currently Vita-C mixed sweets, but down to the last piece. Must &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;remember to replenish soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;iii)&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A bottle of waterless hand cleaner and a pack of wet wipes. Very handy after eating Jack n &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Jill Roller Coaster potato rings in cheese.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;iv)&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A small travel pillow which is easily the best pillow I've ever laid my head on, courtesy of &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Dunlop tyres.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;v)&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A selection of cassettes and CDs and some great preset radio stations.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;vi)&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;When I remember, a bottle of mineral water, a can of Red Bull (for my fella), the above &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Jack n Jill chips or any snack food I can get my hands on and sometimes a bar of &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;chocolate..mmm.. chocolate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;vii)&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;A map book of the Klang Valley, with pages threatening to spill out any second.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;Why do I have these things, you ask, and how is it related to my well-groomed eyebrows? The answer.. I am normally waiting for people in my car. Sometimes, when I feel adventurous and we're having an extremely hectic day, I like to call myself a getaway driver, especially since more often than not, I'm peeling myself away from banks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;On a good day, I just wait for about 10 minutes per stop. That only gives me time to fiddle with the radio, and perhaps read a page or two of my book. Other times, especially when fella's delivering items to clients, I sometimes wait for at least half an hour, and up to two hours. One day, I even managed to finish my half read book, plus get my eyebrows done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;I try to spice things up sometimes, so as to not make things too mundane. Like today, I took my trusty Swiss Army Knife, took out the tweezers and did my eyebrows. I tell you, the best place to do your eyebrows is in the car. Driver or front passenger seat is fine. You take down the visor and start tweezing away. I love the fact that the mirror is at a perfect level to do my brows, and since I am horribly short-sighted, I can even tweeze sans glasses. Plus you're in a comfy chair the whole time you're doing it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;Other times I use my tiny Swiss Army scissors to snip away at split ends. Note: This is only done if I have no other forms of entertainment, 'cos fella is not happy to see little bits of hair all over his precious car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;I once ate breakfast whilst driving to work. I packed some &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nasi goreng/nasi lemak&lt;/span&gt; in a plastic container together with a plastic spoon, and proceeded to eat breakfast in the middle of a traffic jam and at traffic light breaks. I've also applied makeup, read newspapers and presentations, and even edited photos for our Golf Club client whilst in traffic!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;My car is also my mini karaoke studio. My current fave radio station is Red 104.9, 'cos it plays my generation's music (God! That sounds old!). I've stopped listening to Hitz.fm about 5 years ago, 'cos alas, I'm not as current as I thought I am anymore. *Sigh* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;I remember days filled with me beltin' out gems such as Cryin' (Aerosmith), Why can't this be love (Van Halen), Gadisku (Search) and er.. Back for Good (Take That). Good days. I'm also smart. To try not to look like a crazy woman singing/talking to herself (er..which was what I was doing anyway), I normally stick my trusty handsfree earpiece in my ear and once in a while, hold up my phone in earnest. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lakonan semata-mata&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;If I'm tired or sleepy, I recline the seat and lay on my precious pillow. I tell you, I need to write to Dunlop asking them where they got the pillow 'cos it's so darn &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;empuk&lt;/span&gt;! I would buy that for my whole house if I could.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;Other things I've done in the car: wipe the windows from the inside, clean the interior using interior wet wipes, cut my toenails, applied lotion all over my legs and arms, did work on my computer, arranged photos in albums, stuffed dvds in their cases along with covers and plastic wrappings, wrapped presents, changed clothes (okay.. totally not advisable unless you're in a moving car and have huge sunshades covering every available window. I am not an exhibitionist people!), and many others.*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;To get more things done, I think I may need to upgrade accessories in the car. And whilst I'm at it, maybe it's time for my fella and I to get either an RV, bus, Renault Kangoo or VW Combi and just convert the back as a mini studio/salon/kitchen/car workshop etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;*Note to JPJ and PDRM: I have not done things in said paragraph whilst driving, so please don't come after me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&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/824526587126267877-3506030656671239626?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/3506030656671239626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=3506030656671239626' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3506030656671239626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3506030656671239626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/04/things-to-do-in-car-kids-dont-try-any.html' title='Things to Do in the Car (Kids, don&apos;t try any of these EVER!)'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-1755120219674308524</id><published>2008-03-16T02:18:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T02:34:46.125+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dinosaur'/><title type='text'>The Dino..It Attacks Again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R9wWdmha9UI/AAAAAAAAAEw/bO9WEBWxj2w/s1600-h/Dino+web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R9wWdmha9UI/AAAAAAAAAEw/bO9WEBWxj2w/s320/Dino+web.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178038369381971266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;I made another dinosaur cake for my friend, Pye's son's 2nd birthday party. I thought I'd colour it a Tiffany blue, and cut Sugus sweets in halves as spikes on its back &amp;amp; tail. Wanted to use Hershey's kisses, but decided the plain chocolate colour seemed too dull. The cake was chocolate. The legs were pure fondant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;I should learn more about dinosaurs. Don't think my dinosaur existed in real life! To all you paleontologists &amp;amp; dinosaur enthusiasts, please don't send me hate mail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-1755120219674308524?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/1755120219674308524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=1755120219674308524' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1755120219674308524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1755120219674308524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/03/dinoit-attacks-again.html' title='The Dino..It Attacks Again!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R9wWdmha9UI/AAAAAAAAAEw/bO9WEBWxj2w/s72-c/Dino+web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-3433191804829505367</id><published>2008-03-12T08:27:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T08:37:27.772+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fashion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='X2'/><title type='text'>Check out the March "It Girl"!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R9cldWha9RI/AAAAAAAAAEY/mzP3tIfcLm4/s1600-h/Tatler+March+It+Girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R9cldWha9RI/AAAAAAAAAEY/mzP3tIfcLm4/s200/Tatler+March+It+Girl.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176647482877867282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;No..it's not me, unfortunately. Though, I'm thinking that should be my next mission. As soon as my wish for that billion dollars comes true (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;re : previous post)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&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" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Anyway, Malaysia Tatler has Chris Abishegam, one of our favourite clients, as their "It Girl" for the March issue. Check out the magazine spread on page 76. We only take credit for the above photos (minus the cover).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-3433191804829505367?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/3433191804829505367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=3433191804829505367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3433191804829505367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3433191804829505367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/03/check-out-march-it-girl.html' title='Check out the March &quot;It Girl&quot;!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R9cldWha9RI/AAAAAAAAAEY/mzP3tIfcLm4/s72-c/Tatler+March+It+Girl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-5053228604728007715</id><published>2008-03-10T13:04:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T14:40:43.826+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Election'/><title type='text'>....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R9TW4Wha9QI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/yVujUdRSuVM/s1600-h/ShikinBN.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R9TW4Wha9QI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/yVujUdRSuVM/s200/ShikinBN.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175998135362319618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;I'll start with the good news first. I'm happy and proud to announce that my sister-in-law won her first election and is now the DUN for Kampong Gajah, Perak. The bad news is, we never thought this would lead to her suddenly becoming part of the "Opposition" in Perak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;The election results shocked and saddened me. While some part of me was glad that for once, BN could see for themselves that the public aren't happy, I wish it didn't happen at the expense of the five states. And I also wish that a certain party didn't win that many seats. And I wish that the PM had advisors who actually had good and useful advice. And while I'm wishing, I wish for a billion dollars!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Well.. what is done is done. The public has spoken. Now I hope they start demanding that the Opposition make good with their promises, because there are a lot of promises that need to be fulfilled. And I, for one, am scrutinising their every move to see if they are actually up to the challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;I hope that BN fixes whatever is broken to restore the public's faith. Most of the votes were protest votes, so that means that BN still has a chance, as long as they listen to the people.  A word of advice to BN : It's time to make radical changes to modernise BN's outlook and approach, and sacrifices have to be made. Only then can BN have a chance to recapture the people's trust. And only then, can BN hope to get these states back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;In the meantime, allow me to grieve for Perak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-5053228604728007715?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/5053228604728007715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=5053228604728007715' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/5053228604728007715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/5053228604728007715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title='....'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R9TW4Wha9QI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/yVujUdRSuVM/s72-c/ShikinBN.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-828346923039004098</id><published>2008-03-03T15:17:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T17:55:08.279+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Election'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kak Shikin'/><title type='text'>I'm Only Slightly Talking About Politics, Honest!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R80cPNJfjUI/AAAAAAAAAEI/SUEvXWMBfoY/s1600-h/Kak+Shikin.jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R80cPNJfjUI/AAAAAAAAAEI/SUEvXWMBfoY/s200/Kak+Shikin.jpg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173822594471660866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; weekend (more accurately, March 8) is bound to be a hectic one. Not only is it Election Day, it's also my niece, Elise's 8th birthday. Hopefully it'll be a double celebration, because Elise's mom, Dr. Wan Norashikin (or Kak Shikin, my brother's wife), is also standing as a first-time candidate in N49, DUN Kg Gajah, Perak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;My brother chose well. See, my family has always been active in politics, starting from my late grandfather, and followed closely by my mom and my uncle. Unfortunately, it appeared to skip a generation, as neither my siblings nor I have ever seemed interested to join politics. When I was younger, I hoped to join politics, but marriage and work kept me so busy, I couldn't even find the inclination to even join a political party. Luckily, my sister-in-law found her calling in politics, and is now my mom's favourite daughter (at least politically-wise), which my sister and I are quite happy about by the way!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;As a young woman and a fresh candidate (and the only woman candidate in the Pasir Salak constituency), she has her work cut out for her. That, I must say, does not make me envious at all. But I am thoroughly amazed by her determination and her ease in meeting the people and making the rounds. As a former dental officer at the Kg Gajah government dental clinic, it must make her proud to be given the chance to represent her former patients, their families, and the whole Kg Gajah population as a whole.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Aaannywaay.. I'm hoping to make Elise a cake for her birthday this weekend, and thought I'd make Kak Shikin one too. Besides the election, her birthday's on 11 March, so we're hoping it'd be a triple celebration this weekend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm thinking of making Elise either a Barbie cake, or something fairy-related, 'cos she loves fairies, and has tons of fairy story books. Kak Shikin? May need to rack my brain a bit. Either way, I hope I have the time to make the cakes, 'cos work is really killing me at the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Best of luck, Kak Shikin!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-828346923039004098?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/828346923039004098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=828346923039004098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/828346923039004098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/828346923039004098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-only-slightly-talking-about-politics.html' title='I&apos;m Only Slightly Talking About Politics, Honest!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R80cPNJfjUI/AAAAAAAAAEI/SUEvXWMBfoY/s72-c/Kak+Shikin.jpg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-934217930580148229</id><published>2008-02-26T17:05:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T18:00:58.916+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Election'/><title type='text'>And the GK* Award goes to.....(Warning! Political Post Ahead)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I am normally a semi-laidback person. Whatever issues I might have, I vent to people close to me (whether they want me to or not!). And this blog is supposed to be very impartial and to concentrate on cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, some statements issued during this General Election have been ludicrous, to say the least. And I take great issue against a certain political party, which to me, has only one agenda: To turn Malaysia into a dictatorship run by a certain "wronged" person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I don't deny that the present government has many flaws, and much more that needs to be delivered. And I don't deny that I long for the days when Tun Mahathir was still the PM, and whoever the next PM is going to be, would still have Tun's shadow hovering over him possibly until time immemorial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, when a certain "leader" suggests that his wife, his clearly inexperienced offspring, as well as a loyal supporter to run for seats as PROXIES for his "political comeback", that is way worse than whatever promises the government has failed to deliver. At the rate he's going, would it be wrong to assume that any seats won by his party would eventually be HIS seats once he is eligible? Am I the only one who sees this as a potential dictatorship? I mean, if his party wins (which at this point I hope to God it doesn't!), would Malaysia be then called A****sia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's bad enough that the way his party works is by sending supposedly potentially "influential" people to contest seats for the sole reason of contesting against the ruling coalition's candidates, without caring whether or not these "ideal" candidates even know where that particular area is. Plus they're fielding young candidates, who, I believe, may not even have known how to run for their school elections, much less the country's election.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am miffed. I am angry and disappointed that qualities which we abhor in our culture are visibly apparent in this election. Again, I don't deny that all the parties contesting have some sort of flaw I have issues with. However, for this party to blatantly flaunt these qualities, and try to reason them with hopes of a better government, makes me sick to the stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope voters will use reason and logic when making their decision on 8th March.&lt;br /&gt;I hope voters won't use emotional sentiments plied by certain parties to influence their decision.&lt;br /&gt;I hope that whoever wins the election realises that they are there because we put them there, thus they are then answerable to us.&lt;br /&gt;I hope that the candidates and their supporters fight fair and square.&lt;br /&gt;I hope people understand that these thoughts are all mine, and mine alone.&lt;br /&gt;I hope to no longer write politically influenced blogs.&lt;br /&gt;I hope that these next 11 days go by like the wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*GK = Gila Kuasa (Power-Mad)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-934217930580148229?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/934217930580148229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=934217930580148229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/934217930580148229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/934217930580148229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/02/and-gk-award-goes-towarning-political.html' title='And the GK* Award goes to.....(Warning! Political Post Ahead)'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-8960213915638982841</id><published>2008-02-16T20:32:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T21:05:28.753+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Election'/><title type='text'>Polling Days Are Here Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;The elections are coming. Parliament's been dissolved, politicians have started touring the country, and speculations and rumours are on the upswing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;Who am I voting for? That's a secret of course, as is my right, although those who know me would know which way my vote would be. It's fascinating, though, to see politicians, whom we'd never have seen otherwise, suddenly coming out of the woodwork, pleading for support.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;My ideal government? The list is as below:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;1) New faces. Enough with those who refuse to quit; make way for the younger generation to take their place in the administration. Although, saying that, I hope some certain new faces don't get fielded, 'cos boy are they annoying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;2) Old faces. Experienced people who were left out of the last election due to certain other people's agendas. These experienced people are more capable than the current government, have great track records and are well-liked and respected in their respective &lt;em&gt;kawasan&lt;/em&gt;. They should be called back to serve, and hopefully guide the somewhat misguided government back to the right path.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;3) Definitely not anyone who has been investigated and found guilty by the ACA. Why some of them were called up during the past election is beyond my comprehension. I mean, these people had nicknames and everything because of money politics, and yet, they are looked upon to be our leader? I can give you six million reasons why that is just wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;4) More corporate leaders. I'm not against veteran politicians and the like, but corporate leaders have better know how on how to run a smooth administration.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;5) People who want to do the job well. It's probably a rarity now, and perhaps this optimism may change once they're in power, but if they got into politics for the right reasons, hopefully some of this idealism will stick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;That said, my ideal government probably won't become a reality, but it doesn't hurt to hope. And meanwhile, I will just wait for nomination day, thrust my thumb out during polling day for the wonderful new indelible ink to be applied and hope that I don't cross the wrong name.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;Happy voting people!&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/824526587126267877-8960213915638982841?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/8960213915638982841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=8960213915638982841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/8960213915638982841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/8960213915638982841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/02/polling-days-are-here-again.html' title='Polling Days Are Here Again'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-7690135831628537369</id><published>2008-02-13T20:38:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T21:00:52.932+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IKLCC'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Promotion'/><title type='text'>The Day When Cupids Strike &amp; Roses Bloom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R7LpbAlWnuI/AAAAAAAAAD8/0iO_ZX3q7rA/s1600-h/IKLCC+Valentine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R7LpbAlWnuI/AAAAAAAAAD8/0iO_ZX3q7rA/s200/IKLCC+Valentine.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166448372769791714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;For those who aren't aware, tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Yep, the most commercialised celebration ever, but be honest, even those who don't celebrate it, deep down inside, feel that little pang of jealousy when your colleague in the next cubicle gets that gorgeous bouquet or adorable teddy bear on Valentine's Day. OK, so you'll hate her in the next 5 minutes when she starts telling anyone who'll listen that her boyfriend/husband/partner is the best one ever, but for the first 10 seconds, believe me, especially if you're a woman, you'll definitely get the pangs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those looking for a romantic dinner with your loved one, or just to make it a fun girls' night out (which I did with my best friend a few years back 'cos our significant others suddenly made themselves scarce), check out Tonka Bean Cafe at Impiana KLCC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why Tonka Bean, you ask? Well, I will be there, together with my fella, as the official photographers for the dinner. The Valentine's Set Dinner is priced at RM128++ per couple, and you get a special COMPLIMENTARY photograph from yours truly as a memento of this special dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what else can we do to make it special? Your photograph can be either in colour or in duotone, your choice. That's something worth checking out, if you ask me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so I'm shamelessly promoting my services, I admit that. But seriously.. isn't this a great deal? You get a great romantic dinner, be serenaded by a live band, the ladies get roses, and to top it all off, you get a nice photograph of you and your partner as a memento! That's why Impiana KLCC is the place to be on Valentine's night. Trust me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For reservations, call Impiana KLCC at 03 2147 1111.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-7690135831628537369?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/7690135831628537369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=7690135831628537369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7690135831628537369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7690135831628537369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/02/day-when-cupids-strike-roses-bloom.html' title='The Day When Cupids Strike &amp; Roses Bloom'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R7LpbAlWnuI/AAAAAAAAAD8/0iO_ZX3q7rA/s72-c/IKLCC+Valentine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-3222071073592342770</id><published>2008-02-09T20:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T20:52:19.763+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In Memoriam'/><title type='text'>You Will Be Missed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R62hlwlWntI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Czb0eS555m4/s1600-h/candles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R62hlwlWntI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Czb0eS555m4/s200/candles.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164962017732632274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;One of my college friends passed away recently. Zaimirawati Ramli, or Atie, was not a close friend, but we would always greet each other with smiles and small talk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;We lived in the same block in college, but because we took different courses, we didn't have that much in common. However, I remember her most because of her sunny smile, and extremely good nature, and the fact that when we do chat, it was always filled with laughter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;After college, most of us went our separate ways. However, as fate would have had it, my aunt was close friends with Atie's mother-in-law. I was always touched that Atie would ask about me whenever she met my aunt and would always send her regards. That was her nature, and it continued, even when she became sick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;My aunt would regularly update me with news about Atie, and my one regret was that I didn't make more of an effort to call her up or even email her just to say "Hi".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;After a long battle with cancer, Atie passed on peacefully on 6 February 2008. She left behind a loving husband, and two adorable children. Such a beautiful soul, both inside and out, has left us to go to a better place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0); font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Semoga Allah meletakkan dia di kalangan orang-orang yang beriman. Al-Fatihah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-3222071073592342770?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/3222071073592342770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=3222071073592342770' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3222071073592342770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3222071073592342770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/02/you-will-be-missed.html' title='You Will Be Missed'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R62hlwlWntI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Czb0eS555m4/s72-c/candles.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-4387293618245349657</id><published>2008-02-06T19:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T01:35:10.634+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><title type='text'>Night Out at the Movies</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/S0A7dtdc-nU&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/S0A7dtdc-nU&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I'm bored. I have tons of editing to do, but I'm not in the mood to do any. 'Cos I'm bored. (Have I said that already?) My fella and I thought we'd go watch a movie, but there's nothing to watch. Maybe we'll just watch DVDs tonight instead. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;My fella and I have simple tastes when it comes to movies. I personally don't enjoy movies that make me think too much. I know that probably puts me in the non-cool urban yuppie category, but hey, there's so much to think about in everyday life, why the heck should I pay good money to think some more?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;That's not to say that I don't watch heavy dramas and such, to me, it's no longer entertainment. I like movies which go beyond the realm of normalcy, for e.g. car scenes from the Transporter &amp;amp; James Bond franchise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I like action movies and romantic comedies. I love The Wedding Singer, and wish my fella would sing "Grow old with you" to me constantly. I love the Italian Job, although half of it is because I want to go to Venice, and partly because I adore Seth Green (especially as Oz in Buffy).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I love Die Hards 1-3, although I balk somewhat at Live Free and Die Hard, because Bruce Willis didn't seem like John McClane in it, unless John McClane became a broody, tired and lethargic old man since the last movie came out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I love the Lord of the Rings trilogy although I sat through nearly the whole of the first movie thinking Legolas was played by James Marsters (Spike of Buffy fame) and marvelling at the wonderful make-up job that made him look so young.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I love treasure hunt type of movies, so National Treasure, Indiana Jones &amp;amp; the Last Crusade and Da Vinci Code occupy a special place in my heart. That said, how much did it suck that Tom Hanks played Robert Langdon??? I mean, dude was wooden, boring and don't even get me started about the hair!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I hate most Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie movies, and not just because I like Jennifer Aniston (well, her movies aren't that great either). I think most Brangelina movies are hyped 'cos they're pretty people, and I strongly believe that the only reason Angelina Jolie got that Oscar was because she played a crazy person, which er.. was kind of who she was then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I love Sandra Bullock movies, even the semi-boring Lake House, although While You Were Sleeping will always be my favourite. Speed would be my next favourite, and partly 'cos for all his woodenness, I actually do like Keanu Reeves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I like Hugh Grant movies as well. Love Actually and Music and Lyrics are my current fave. I would like to sing "Pop! Goes My Heart" when I see my fella, complete with pelvic twists and thrusts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I love love love (!) Monsters Inc., and not just because Boo reminded me of my niece, Elise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;I love P. Ramlee comedies 'cos they're P. Ramlee comedies. Enough said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;My fella's taste is easier. As long as there's Chris Rock, Chris Tucker, Martin Lawrence, Bernie Mac, Eddie Murphy or Cedric the Entertainer, he's happy. Oh. And he likes Italian Job too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&gt;Movies should just be for entertainment. And to me, anything that can make me forget life's troubles for 2 hours is money well spent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#330000;"&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/824526587126267877-4387293618245349657?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/4387293618245349657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=4387293618245349657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4387293618245349657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4387293618245349657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/02/night-out-at-movies.html' title='Night Out at the Movies'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-4600206014152018513</id><published>2008-02-01T21:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T01:05:46.984+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MRSMBP'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Batch 89'/><title type='text'>Days of Flying Saucers &amp; Nasi Lemak Pak Ya</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I recently browsed my friend, Idan's, blog (Frossonice) and he was rehashing memories of our MRSM Balik Pulau days. Coincidentally, my gals &amp;amp; I were also talking about the same stuff, although Idan's memories were way tamer than my gals!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway..I spent the best years in my life in some form of hostels. It started with MRSM from 1989-1992, MARA College Banting from 1993-1995, then University of Hull, UK from 1995-1998. The friends I made in these places are those I can consider as lifelong friends, and indeed, if you look in my Facebook, about 90% are school friends (this includes my SRK Sri Petaling friends as well).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And unlike several other MRSM survivors, I totally LOVED my MRSM years. Being there since Form 2 made me more independent and adventurous than I would have been if I'd stayed at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, I wouldn't have learned how to bathe in a river (citygirl since birth..woohoo!), run 10 laps at 3pm and a further 5 at 6pm during hockey season, stretch my bed linens over my bed so tight that a coin could bounce off of it without leaving a mark (OK.. I couldn't do it, but my friend Renny was THE master!) or learned how to hang my undergarments under other clothes to dry on the clothesline so that the boys who lived in the lower block wouldn't take them JUST FOR FUN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor would I have learned how to sleep standing up while on the then Penang Yellow Bus to Georgetown, take a bus, ferry and train (all in one night) back to KL for the holidays, memorised nearly all 80's &amp;amp; 90's Malay rock songs by heart (to this day, OK?) or rode an Army tank, truck and camped out with my whole batch &amp;amp; some Army personnel after the SRP exams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor would I have had the opportunity to eat food which I will never see outside of an MRSM, like &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;ikan jaket&lt;/span&gt; (however, this gives me shudders to this day!), flying saucers (a wonderful concoction of sardines, baked beans &amp;amp; pancake-like batter), grilled corn-on-the-cob marinated in condensed milk and butter (YUM!!!!) or breakfast, lunch and dinners served in steel trays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor would I have known the other 120 souls who registered with me at MRSM Balik Pulau on 7 January 1989 (For the record, my &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;nombor maktab&lt;/span&gt; was the very cool 89098). Nor would I have realised I could actually memorise every single person's &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;nombor maktab&lt;/span&gt; as well (don't think of me as a loser, but just someone with more time than necessary on her hands).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor would I have known that these 120 souls, as well as the others who joined us in Form 4 (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;now mature 33 year olds with respectable jobs)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;, upon meeting now, would immediately transform into giggly teenagers reminiscing about the good ol' days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope.. these things I would have never learned, had I not gone to MRSM. I may have had different memories had that been the case, but right now, I would not trade these memories with anything in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Kau umpama bunga yang mekar di hatiku..&lt;br /&gt;Ku harap kau mekarlah selama-lamanya..&lt;br /&gt;Kau umpama bintang menyinari hidupku..&lt;br /&gt;Ku harap kau terus bersinar..&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Cintamu Mekar di Hati-MAY&lt;br /&gt;(Told you I can still &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;hafal&lt;/span&gt; the lyrics!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-4600206014152018513?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/4600206014152018513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=4600206014152018513' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4600206014152018513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4600206014152018513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/02/days-of-flying-saucers-nasi-lemak-pak.html' title='Days of Flying Saucers &amp; Nasi Lemak Pak Ya'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-6681608731410763265</id><published>2008-01-22T13:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T13:57:28.709+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bumblebee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cake'/><title type='text'>Busy Busy Bee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R5WEIOuAzuI/AAAAAAAAABk/ZrF2vPAx1YA/s1600-h/Bumblebee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R5WEIOuAzuI/AAAAAAAAABk/ZrF2vPAx1YA/s200/Bumblebee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158174225147678434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This was a Bumblebee cake for my friend, Sally's daughter, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ika&lt;/span&gt; Bee. It was a chocolate cake with frosting, with Rocky chocolate sticks as antennae, and paper &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;doilies&lt;/span&gt; on sticks as the wings. My only regret was not being able to find black food colouring in time, so my bee had brown stripes instead of black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh.. Bumblebee as in insect, and not the Transformer robot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-6681608731410763265?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/6681608731410763265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=6681608731410763265' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/6681608731410763265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/6681608731410763265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/01/busy-busy-bee.html' title='Busy Busy Bee'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R5WEIOuAzuI/AAAAAAAAABk/ZrF2vPAx1YA/s72-c/Bumblebee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-980606232193283292</id><published>2008-01-15T14:10:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T14:29:41.816+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><title type='text'>Dear Diary..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When I was younger, I had a diary. Make it 4 diaries, each being a huge ledger. I wrote in them nearly every day, and some, more than once a day. God knows what thoughts I had that warranted multiple entries in a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guarded those diaries with my life. My friends in boarding school often saw me hunched over my diary, writing furiously about my life at that time. Thinking back, my life wasn't that happening then (not that it is now!) but I still felt it warranted being inked in memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time, I would write about my crush back then, my friends, people I was mad with, people who were mad at me, song lyrics, the usual stuff. As I grew older, I found less time to pen my thoughts, and more time being engrossed in life. If by life you mean sprawled on the bed with my friends in my quaint little house in Hull, watching Empire Records for the 100th time and eating Las Vagas (not a typo, that's really how it's spelt!) takeouts (the cheeseburger is the best!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking back, I wish I still kept a diary, 'cos I have memory like Swiss Cheese. I can barely remember what happened yesterday, much less what happened 10 years ago! I blame it on Britain's Mad Cow Disease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway....I wish I still kept a diary 'cos so much has happened to me, and there are so many places I've been to, and things I've done, which should be documented so my future descendants won't think I'm a loser whose main achievement in life is making a killer lasagna!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kid.. I actually make a damn good pudding as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'll try to properly utilise this space to jot down my thoughts, experiences and memories, and hope my descendants will at least think, "Boy, can she write cr*p!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-980606232193283292?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/980606232193283292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=980606232193283292' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/980606232193283292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/980606232193283292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/01/dear-diary.html' title='Dear Diary..'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-6383485157385615898</id><published>2008-01-04T19:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T20:50:34.361+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='90s rock'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Mat Rock!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WyeH-JWQNrw&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WyeH-JWQNrw&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Ahh.. the days of tight pants &amp;amp; Tancho hair cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song is dedicated to all 90's rock fans, especially my MRSMBP buds.. Batch 89! This is for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Make sure you guys get the gestures &amp;amp; actions down pat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-6383485157385615898?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/6383485157385615898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=6383485157385615898' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/6383485157385615898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/6383485157385615898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/01/mat-rock.html' title='Mat Rock!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-8948077853595854946</id><published>2008-01-04T10:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T10:50:23.924+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='renny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cicakman'/><title type='text'>Cicakman! Sort of..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R32eCOuAztI/AAAAAAAAABc/gttshnnEu5U/s1600-h/Cicakman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R32eCOuAztI/AAAAAAAAABc/gttshnnEu5U/s200/Cicakman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151447309929729746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Here's my version of Cicakman for Sofea, Renny's niece's birthday. I made an orange butter cake this time. The eyes are half-Oreos, and the teeth are marshmallows. Jokingly told Renny that my Cicakman needed some dental work..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-8948077853595854946?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/8948077853595854946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=8948077853595854946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/8948077853595854946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/8948077853595854946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2008/01/cicakman-sort-of.html' title='Cicakman! Sort of..'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R32eCOuAztI/AAAAAAAAABc/gttshnnEu5U/s72-c/Cicakman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-5211150985644201497</id><published>2007-12-31T17:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T17:37:04.632+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Year'/><title type='text'>2008, is that you?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;2008 is waiting around the corner. Have I made resolutions? Not really.. Don't really believe in resolutions 'cos I'll just end up breaking them. However, I have one resolution that I really need to do: Have a baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My biological clock's ticking big time, man!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Anyway.. Happy 2008 everybody! May you get what you wish for!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-5211150985644201497?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/5211150985644201497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=5211150985644201497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/5211150985644201497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/5211150985644201497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/12/2008-is-that-you.html' title='2008, is that you?'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-4566462848788448674</id><published>2007-12-13T14:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T10:48:14.154+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='festival'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elijaz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Snowman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elixir'/><title type='text'>Enter the Snowman</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R2DQEFh24yI/AAAAAAAAABU/hsLxkxWu5ag/s1600-h/Snowman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R2DQEFh24yI/AAAAAAAAABU/hsLxkxWu5ag/s200/Snowman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143339543079346978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;I made this cake for my twin nephews' Christmas party at school. I used Oreo cookies as eyes, an ice-cream cone for the nose, and nicked some Coco Balls from Elise &amp;amp; Eric for the mouth (Thanks kids!). The hat is pure fondant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;The mini-marshmallows are supposed to be snow-but they're actually for the kids' benefit. I'm sure they're the first to go!&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/824526587126267877-4566462848788448674?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/4566462848788448674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=4566462848788448674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4566462848788448674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/4566462848788448674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/12/enter-snowman.html' title='Enter the Snowman'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R2DQEFh24yI/AAAAAAAAABU/hsLxkxWu5ag/s72-c/Snowman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-5748880509717691705</id><published>2007-12-11T18:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T18:30:43.575+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='National Treasure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><title type='text'>National Treasure: Book of Secrets trailer</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="380" height="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://adisney.go.com/disneypictures/nationaltreasure/player/nt2_viral_player.swf?videoId=trailer3"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://adisney.go.com/disneypictures/nationaltreasure/player/nt2_viral_player.swf?videoId=trailer3" width="380" height="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;A movie my hubby &amp;amp; I can't wait to see.. We like action movies so we don't have to think so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Action + simple language=GOOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-5748880509717691705?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/5748880509717691705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=5748880509717691705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/5748880509717691705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/5748880509717691705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/12/national-treasure-book-of-secrets.html' title='National Treasure: Book of Secrets trailer'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-8806248850215658702</id><published>2007-12-11T16:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T16:32:31.955+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Never Underestimate the Photographer's Determination</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R15Kj1h24xI/AAAAAAAAABM/qMFYheN80ts/s1600-h/Zain%40Work.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R15Kj1h24xI/AAAAAAAAABM/qMFYheN80ts/s320/Zain%40Work.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142629804028650258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);font-family:verdana;" &gt;My hubby at work. Er.. not that he's in this position every time, but you get what I mean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-8806248850215658702?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/8806248850215658702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=8806248850215658702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/8806248850215658702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/8806248850215658702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/12/never-underestimate-photographers.html' title='Never Underestimate the Photographer&apos;s Determination'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/R15Kj1h24xI/AAAAAAAAABM/qMFYheN80ts/s72-c/Zain%40Work.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-9049200803973684951</id><published>2007-12-10T10:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T10:34:43.984+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elijaz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elixir'/><title type='text'>New Cakes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I have 2 new cake orders for this week. One for my friend, Renny's niece's birthday this weekend, and one for my nephews' Christmas party celebration at school. The biggest challenge is the Cicakman cake for Renny's niece! I'll update you on how it turns out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I haven't decided what to do for my nephews yet, though. My sis wants it to be something different and festive, and I'm racking my brains trying to figure out what that is! Hopefully I'll get some ideas soon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-9049200803973684951?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/9049200803973684951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=9049200803973684951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/9049200803973684951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/9049200803973684951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/12/new-cakes.html' title='New Cakes!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-7955063688461709158</id><published>2007-12-05T18:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T18:27:46.862+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='90s rock'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Batch 89 ladies: This is For You!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="370" width="530"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/p/4231EAF9EC66C33B"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/p/4231EAF9EC66C33B" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="370" width="530"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;My friends &amp;amp; I were reminiscing about the good old days, so thought I'd dedicate this song to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Ladies, remember to change the "Bukakanlah jendela asmara.." to "Bukakanlah jendela asrama.." accordingly!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-7955063688461709158?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/7955063688461709158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=7955063688461709158' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7955063688461709158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/7955063688461709158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/12/batch-89-ladies-this-is-for-you.html' title='Batch 89 ladies: This is For You!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-6620385364225522519</id><published>2007-11-19T17:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T17:52:14.859+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Friendship Without Strings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Lately my schoolmates &amp;amp; I have been catching up on old times. Some of us haven't met since after our Form 5 graduation and it's always fun to see how we've turned out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, myself, have only been in constant contact with only a few, so it was nice reconnecting with the others. And it's a pleasant surprise to see how well we can still bond with each other even after all these years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I call friendship without strings. Back then, especially since we were in boarding school, our only requirements for friendship was that we could all look out for each other since we were far from home. No hidden agenda, no politics, just a simple &amp;amp; straightforward approach to friendship. And to this day, though most are married with children and everyone has her own life, this simple foundation is what still binds us together, and to me, is what will make us friends for life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only life were this simple now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-6620385364225522519?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/6620385364225522519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=6620385364225522519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/6620385364225522519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/6620385364225522519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/11/friendship-without-strings.html' title='Friendship Without Strings'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-893152098488685060</id><published>2007-11-17T16:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T16:15:53.930+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Water, Water Everywhere and Not a Drop at Home..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My housing area suffered water disruption late Thursday evening 'til early this morning due to a burst water pipe some 15km away. Luckily I was out the whole day so I didn't actually have to suffer at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reminded me of boarding school days when we had to wait with pails for the water tanks or go to the river to bathe. That was an exciting experience when we were young. When you're older, not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-893152098488685060?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/893152098488685060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=893152098488685060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/893152098488685060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/893152098488685060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/11/water-water-everywhere-and-not-drop-at.html' title='Water, Water Everywhere and Not a Drop at Home..'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-1124913840619954465</id><published>2007-11-15T13:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T13:34:13.752+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advertisements'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='StudioLine Photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='business'/><title type='text'>Business As Usual</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzvaCV4v7KI/AAAAAAAAABE/5IiFYVTbj2A/s1600-h/SLP+ad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzvaCV4v7KI/AAAAAAAAABE/5IiFYVTbj2A/s320/SLP+ad.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132935934088572066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My hubby and I have a photography &amp;amp; videography services business called StudioLine Photography. My hubby's a professional photographer, and he's been doing this full-time for the past 6 years. I joined him about 4 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Talk about our true calling. My hubby has a B.Acc, and was working as an IT Auditor. I hold an LL.B, and was working with a well-known legal publisher. However well we did our job, we were never truly happy &amp;amp; satisfied with work though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;At the end of the day, both of us decided to throw caution to the wind and do something we both love. So, about 4 months before our wedding, he took his VSS and started this business full-time. Once the business picked up, I left my job to join him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Alhamdulillah, business has been flourishing, and we've just started advertising and hoping to expand the business. Among others, we're offering all types of photo &amp;amp; video services, including retouching &amp;amp; restoring old and damaged photographs, multimedia presentations and photobooks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;We're in the midst of diversifying the business and we'll keep you in touch with our future endeavours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;Above is a copy of our press ad in The Weekend Mail (every weekend this November).&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-1124913840619954465?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/1124913840619954465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=1124913840619954465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1124913840619954465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1124913840619954465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/11/business-as-usual.html' title='Business As Usual'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzvaCV4v7KI/AAAAAAAAABE/5IiFYVTbj2A/s72-c/SLP+ad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-8649869123230682942</id><published>2007-11-12T19:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T19:32:15.059+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elijaz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eric'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elixir'/><title type='text'>Flu Season</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ugh..It's flu season. My poor hubby is down with it, and so are my niece &amp;amp; nephews, plus some of their maids. Hope I manage to avoid it cos me sick is not a pretty sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yang, Elise, Eric, Elixir &amp;amp; Elijaz, get well soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-8649869123230682942?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/8649869123230682942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=8649869123230682942' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/8649869123230682942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/8649869123230682942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/11/flu-season.html' title='Flu Season'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-5496366712853009331</id><published>2007-11-12T09:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T10:48:49.513+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dinosaur'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hud'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Dinosaur Attack!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rze0EId0lPI/AAAAAAAAAA8/IX5o2YkapYM/s1600-h/Dinosaur+web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rze0EId0lPI/AAAAAAAAAA8/IX5o2YkapYM/s320/Dinosaur+web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131768283497010418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This cake was for my friend's son's 4th birthday. She let me have full reign so I decided to make a dinosaur for him. As usual, the spikes were the first to go. They were full sugar, so parents, I apologise for any sugar rush your children may have had! Next time, I'll try Hershey's kisses for a more interesting twist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let the fondant dry a little, so as to make the skin look more authentic &amp;amp; wrinkly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/824526587126267877-5496366712853009331?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/5496366712853009331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=5496366712853009331' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/5496366712853009331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/5496366712853009331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/11/dinosaur-attack.html' title='Dinosaur Attack!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rze0EId0lPI/AAAAAAAAAA8/IX5o2YkapYM/s72-c/Dinosaur+web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-1620549143745444325</id><published>2007-11-10T12:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T10:49:10.631+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='firetruck'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elijaz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Cake No. 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzU1D4d0lNI/AAAAAAAAAAs/gPxQptyrE_U/s1600-h/Firetruck+web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzU1D4d0lNI/AAAAAAAAAAs/gPxQptyrE_U/s320/Firetruck+web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131065691271894226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This cake was for Elijaz, Elixir's twin brother. His is a firetruck. It's supposed to be bright red, but I didn't put in enough colouring and it became a bright pink firetruck. I put in Oreo cookies as tyres and Smarties as lights and adornments. Guess what the kids took first-the cookies &amp;amp; candy of course! Luckily I managed to take photos of the cake before the party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-1620549143745444325?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/1620549143745444325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=1620549143745444325' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1620549143745444325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/1620549143745444325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/11/cake-no-2.html' title='Cake No. 2'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzU1D4d0lNI/AAAAAAAAAAs/gPxQptyrE_U/s72-c/Firetruck+web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-688446905950952591</id><published>2007-11-10T12:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T10:49:31.563+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hobbit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Elixir'/><title type='text'>Cake!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzUy2Yd0lMI/AAAAAAAAAAk/O6ycfc9yAuo/s1600-h/Hobbit+web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzUy2Yd0lMI/AAAAAAAAAAk/O6ycfc9yAuo/s320/Hobbit+web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131063260320404674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I love cooking. I don't do it as much as I would like to (mainly 'cos I'm too lazy!) but I have tons of recipes everywhere around me. I'm lucky that my fella loves my cooking and is a fair critic. (Sometimes too downright honest though!) However, his comments do help and he is supportive of my tendency to overly modify recipes from their original form.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I've recently started making 3D celebratory cakes &amp;amp; muffins. Most recently I made a few cakes for a few birthday parties and I thought I'd post some of them here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The one above was for my nephew's 1st birthday party. My sis has twin boys, and I made separate cakes for the both of them. The one up here was for Elixir. I originally wanted to make a bumblebee for him, but I went slightly overboard and decided to make him a cake called "Hobbit Fishing at the Shire".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-688446905950952591?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/688446905950952591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=688446905950952591' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/688446905950952591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/688446905950952591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/11/cake.html' title='Cake!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzUy2Yd0lMI/AAAAAAAAAAk/O6ycfc9yAuo/s72-c/Hobbit+web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-3065625670695104825</id><published>2007-11-09T18:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T19:16:07.476+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hubby'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>My Fella</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzQ61Yd0lLI/AAAAAAAAAAc/oG1mrnQveBY/s1600-h/Zain+web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzQ61Yd0lLI/AAAAAAAAAAc/oG1mrnQveBY/s320/Zain+web.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130790564256847026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The love of my life :) My darling hubby. Don't worry.. didn't rob the cradle.. he was 5 when this photo was taken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-3065625670695104825?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/3065625670695104825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=3065625670695104825' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3065625670695104825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3065625670695104825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-fella.html' title='My Fella'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/RzQ61Yd0lLI/AAAAAAAAAAc/oG1mrnQveBY/s72-c/Zain+web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-824526587126267877.post-3688552676893455559</id><published>2007-11-09T17:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T19:23:57.714+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beginning'/><title type='text'>1st Post Ever!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;1st post ever, people!&lt;br /&gt;Renny, thanks for setting this up for me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/824526587126267877-3688552676893455559?l=emaismail.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/feeds/3688552676893455559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=824526587126267877&amp;postID=3688552676893455559' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3688552676893455559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/824526587126267877/posts/default/3688552676893455559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emaismail.blogspot.com/2007/11/1st-post-ever.html' title='1st Post Ever!'/><author><name>Ema</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15426759641748537191</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_zPS4sdOqqB0/Rzee7od0lOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/0i7OaJpqoFw/s320/Ema+4yrs+web.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
