<?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-3951874413736727436</id><updated>2011-07-08T00:35:53.742-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sanduc.blogspot.com</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-6455913943351993366</id><published>2010-07-10T09:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T09:33:57.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Being compared to sucks. Big time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically comparing me to other people will just make me hate the one who I was compared to for no apparent reason. So wad if I’m just like her? Will it make me, ME?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I don’t get why everyone compares someone with another person who totally doesn’t fit into the bill. For instance they compare the ability of person A and person B. Obviously someone is going to be better at the skill. I don’t believe people have pared abilities. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;As for personalities, stop comparing. It’s not like I take drugs, dance around like some retard and is so pathetic that I need a personality check. If you want me to be like someone else, then find that someone else, don’t come near me, don’t talk to me, don’t ask me for help, don’t be friends with me, fuck off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many compare me so much like : why he/she can ah why you cannot ah?. Well to say yes I can but I cannot. I know what is happening and I will try so don’t rub salt into my wounds. If you want me to run faster, stop binding my legs with so many bags of salt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people compare me to state the obvious, trying to insult me while fucking their own ass back.  Stupid bunch of useless nerds who jack off at the imagination of person B. Oh wells can’t blame them for being so unloved.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you pieces of shit go around commenting on my looks, I think you should patch up your broken mirror before comparing who is better looking. Don’t call the kettle black. Besides that person B you’re comparing me with is someone who is unobtainable since you’re so fking pathetic for her to catch her eyes. Oh! Another point to note, she don’t even know you exist.  ,,|,, (^_^} ,,|,,a&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-6455913943351993366?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/6455913943351993366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/07/being-compared-to-sucks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/6455913943351993366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/6455913943351993366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/07/being-compared-to-sucks.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-8955158003541261434</id><published>2010-07-07T10:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T10:03:12.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There is a new trend that only goes on in my home. Its fking irritating to the extent that I’d scream at anyone who calls next. It’s just so FUCKING irritating that I can’t stop gritting my teeth even though it’s over for hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While doing something no matter what is it, some dude number 1 would call me and the trend starts. It’s ok since it’s the first call. Then my dad just LOVE to call the house phone right when I was speaking. Alright then I passed the phone to my couz who is sleeping like she’s never waking up again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Considering I have to find the stupiack phone hidden every so well by my dad (sometimes it’s even under the sofa cushions or the huge stack of newspapers) and that I have to walk all the way (already feeling irritated) to wake my couz up in some dark room where I trip myself most of the time in which adds fuel to the irritating situation, not turning green and transforming into the Hulk female version is already a miracle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was still ok, had to keep anger in check a few times. Almost was calm BUT a random dude 3 just had to call my cell phone and ruin it all for me. Phone calls from both sides ringing every 3 mins. What the fuck? Are their minds interconnected by some alien kazubitalutubaric device?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there goes my dad calling back at 3min intervals. Usually, he’ll do it 3 times in a row per day. Now do you guys get why I sound so irritated whenever anyone calls me? I was this close to smashing my handphone and flushing my house phone into the toilet bowl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next interesting point to note to why I always answer my calls so late. &lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, my dad fell in love with the wireless phone and bought one home. However 1 was not enough as the battery runs flat very quickly. So he bought another.&lt;br /&gt;I use the phone everyday too and it’s pretty irritating for him to keep finding me for the phone. Therefore he bought another 2 phones. One especially just for me to charge in my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was quite happy about it until I figured out that the fucker phone is disrupting my internet access and never charge in inside my room ever again. And thus, my dad would take all 4 phones and hide them in his treasure spots till one fine day, there’s only 2 phones left in the house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now do you know why I take forever to answer the phone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-8955158003541261434?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/8955158003541261434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/07/there-is-new-trend-that-only-goes-on-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/8955158003541261434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/8955158003541261434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/07/there-is-new-trend-that-only-goes-on-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-8820908251792934496</id><published>2010-07-05T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T21:48:29.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I hate leavers. They can all go screw themselves. First, they act all cocky and then when they loose, they leave. We all call them the bunch of no balls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you no balls, why challenge people in the first place? Ask people 1v1 then u go run away with your tails between your legs. Seriously STUPIACK! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's another good point about them being cowards is that they'll never dare challenge you again unless they wanna make a fool out of themselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-8820908251792934496?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/8820908251792934496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-hate-leavers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/8820908251792934496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/8820908251792934496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-hate-leavers.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-354902175078714855</id><published>2010-07-04T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T09:24:58.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It’s a pretty fked up week for me. First I met rose and peter for an evening tea. I was really excited about going to perth soon. But after meeting them, I don’t even feel like leaving Singapore anymore. After seeing their faces, I’ve got a sudden pang of pain in my chest and instantly I knew I’m gonna miss them so much.  &lt;br /&gt;Four months is just like a drop of water in a vast ocean in my life. But still, I don’t want to let go. I was really really enthu about being an LA at first. But now, not really. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met an old friend and wanted a good life like her. 1.5k salary and have a poor life without having to worry about anything. Cars, huge houses, fuck them all. I don’t need any. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living sucks seriously. Whatever I do, it’ll just be a norm. Simple, boring and screwed up norm everyone goes through. No one can say no to it unless they do a quick suicide. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If god doesn’t exist and if my parents wouldn’t be sad, I would have had a suicide. &lt;br /&gt;I don’t even want to exist. Basically I live to die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To add onto my misery, this and that happened and I have no idea whether if it’s serious or not. Won’t know until that day comes wouldn’t I? It felt like a turning point. I don’t want to loosen the strings as I know I’m not like the others who would beg the past to come back. I would just let it go and try to live on as a retarded person or something. Turning back will only create unhappiness. The puzzle will still explode in the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I doubt that the strings would help either. It’s like trying to catch water with a net. I don't think I’d be happy even if I did catch it. The few drops of water would evaporate very soon to leave me. Just like everything else is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-354902175078714855?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/354902175078714855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/07/its-pretty-fked-up-week-for-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/354902175078714855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/354902175078714855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/07/its-pretty-fked-up-week-for-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-2815358971723297706</id><published>2010-06-04T07:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T07:19:21.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When was the last time I even noticed the wrinkles appearing on my father’s face? When was the last time I when I was able to be carried by my dad? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the time passes by, two of my most loved ones are slowly but steadily growing old. Even though it’s kind of early to think about such things, I am still afraid of the day that they will leave me. Every time I hear my mom talking about her headaches or when my dad groans while trying to pick up the key he dropped, I am cruelly reminded about my worst fear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is so generous to us and yet it is such a cruel thing. It gave me time to grow close to my parents while it slowly takes away my parents from me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-2815358971723297706?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/2815358971723297706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/06/when-was-last-time-i-even-noticed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/2815358971723297706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/2815358971723297706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/06/when-was-last-time-i-even-noticed.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-3428889678737248061</id><published>2010-05-23T23:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T23:46:20.441-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>played monopoly and got fking angry at the AI. One its damn stupid and 2, the com cheats by trading each other so cheaply. WHORE! SCREW U&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-3428889678737248061?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/3428889678737248061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/05/played-monopoly-and-got-fking-angry-at.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/3428889678737248061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/3428889678737248061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/05/played-monopoly-and-got-fking-angry-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-7694742044940172083</id><published>2010-04-01T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T20:19:44.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today is a public holiday and yes as usual i WANT TO stay and rot at home to do some montages or perspectives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However the little prick kept accusing me of not wanting to go out. Basically it doesn't really make a diff if she wanted to go out that bad. She has 1) friends 2)Legs &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore she shouldn't blame me for not wanting to go out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-7694742044940172083?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/7694742044940172083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/04/today-is-public-holiday-and-yes-as.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/7694742044940172083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/7694742044940172083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/04/today-is-public-holiday-and-yes-as.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-8865849850471947789</id><published>2010-03-28T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T21:58:32.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Damn sien. So as expected 4days of useless grad show. Nick was the only one who got like 20 jobs in these days. Those who offered jobs are looking for archi / interior peeps. What a waste of time and my short term happiness of actually receiving ONE email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the feeling of sitting around having nth to do at suntech but bumming away at home feels even worse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than the grad show not succeeding, a heartless woman never come visit me. So what if i failed go out with you a few times? So because of that you didn't come?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Supporting and shopping is different. So you mean i go shopping with you supports u morally or emotionally? Would u get a boost of adrenaline when you see clothes? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides i told u monday is ok and u went all mia. Bitch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-8865849850471947789?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/8865849850471947789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/damn-sien.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/8865849850471947789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/8865849850471947789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/damn-sien.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-7422532624176240992</id><published>2010-03-26T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T09:04:42.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Seeing him having so much success makes me happy, but while everything is happening, i cant help but feel horrible. I'm often compared to him and obviously i would think "I'm not him of course he can" but i do know that in the end, i can do as good as he is and that is for me to achieve. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing him talk about his work makes everything so easy but in reality, it isnt. Way before the grad show, i already felt so insecure with myself at whatever i do. Even though he encourages me time to time, i officially announce that i am already immune to those motivational talks. It'll be scraping onto a stone wall and damaging the chisel instead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emotional stress keeps building within as each time he talks to me happily about his new job offer. I feel happy for him but sad for myself. I cant help it really. I cant control those emotions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If i could i would not want to hear anything about the jobs but if i do, he'll be sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would really want to find a day where i can just go into the mountains and cry it all out and shout so loudly that i'll loose my voice for a day or two. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel emotionally stressed every time he talks about work and its not helping when i see him working. if only i could stop being so selfish and think more positively. FML. Living is just a pain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-7422532624176240992?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/7422532624176240992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/seeing-him-having-so-much-success-makes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/7422532624176240992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/7422532624176240992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/seeing-him-having-so-much-success-makes.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-7486978406979665394</id><published>2010-03-26T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T08:41:28.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today at grad show i kept thinking to myself. If only i had insisted not to go. Its fking pointless i admit. I need to go to uni and who the hell will keep my name card for 2 yrs unless they so qiao 2yrs ltr dig out my name card. I don't even know the purpose of the whole show to me and a certain someone isn't making it any better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, the location of my panels can be counted as the SUCKIEST place to be at. Its just next to nicks and people will duh-ly compare mine with his. And whenever he tries to explain his design or w/e, his body sure block my panel and scare the children away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2ndly, its like surrounded by archi work and its so inside. BJHEJKFJKDS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All day long only stupid card collectors came to greedily collect everyone's name cards like some retard kid who never see candies before. Its so obvious that they don't come from any company seeing that if u'd like to hire, you wont go around and grabbing every single card u see. You'd choose the best u believe there is at the grad show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically the grad show went on smoothly but it was damn boring. Sitting one side to wait for people to come. Whats worst is that those who are looking at the panels are just either kids/those who have no future and now then wanna go to poly or those bo liao then come see see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wasted so much money just to eat. They cant even provide H2o for us. So damn cheapo. Last year also got sofa arh! Neh neh, think also angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sien. Even after coming home i am so mentally tired. Now i know why some people can go insane after being trapped in a room for a few days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BARHGJDFK shouldn't have join =_= waste my time, energy, future, cells, mental health and sleep time. Screw you guys im going home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-7486978406979665394?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/7486978406979665394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/today-at-grad-show-i-kept-thinking-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/7486978406979665394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/7486978406979665394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/today-at-grad-show-i-kept-thinking-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-5221390069089582568</id><published>2010-03-21T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T08:06:23.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I cant believe it! The com i sent once again for repair for a change of motherboard cant even turn on. What the hell?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That fker must have been trying to cheat my money again. If their skills are so horrible why the hell are they still hired?! Stupid assholes! The com i brought from Harvey norman 10years ago is still working fine but that stupid com i bought from those assholes died within a year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously never am i going back to that shop to buy any single item be it a battery! Screw them SCREW THEM!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-5221390069089582568?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/5221390069089582568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-cant-believe-it-com-i-sent-once-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/5221390069089582568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/5221390069089582568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-cant-believe-it-com-i-sent-once-again.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-2110914237451542402</id><published>2010-03-13T07:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T07:28:23.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i feel really horrible everyday. Its been like forever while i was waiting for their call. I was even paranoid that i gave them the wrong number. Some dude was rejected and he was contacted and yet i wasnt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feeling of not knowing if you're rejected or not sucks big time. It is neither here or there. The other girl was called up and i felt really abc. Maybe is the short time i am available or smth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AT LEAST CALL AND TELL ME IM REJECTEDKLJ KLDSjfkljfk gosh. =_=. Its like everytime somone calls, i get this huge amount of shock that my lifespan might be shorten for like 5x.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-2110914237451542402?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/2110914237451542402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-feel-really-horrible-everyday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/2110914237451542402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/2110914237451542402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-feel-really-horrible-everyday.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951874413736727436.post-2485558744782588332</id><published>2010-03-07T21:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T21:17:12.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday, my com spoilt YET AGAIN after ONE week of repair. So when i went to the place I admit I acted really bitchy and said unnecessary stuff. My mood wasn't really at its best. Being sleepy and agitated ect ect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told my dad i felt very cheated with service they provided and as self defense the guy acted bitchy back to me and i don't blame him. But being unable to identify the computer probs shows how lazy he was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One week before. The com repair man said smth along the lines "We will CHECK what is wrong with ur HARDWARE and if we cant repair them, we will call u up and see if you wanna replace the parts (with another pricing)" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah we just left it there and took it back after they fix idk what. Then it has the same old prob of being unable to boot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when we went back, they said "You mother board is a gonner"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would my motherboard only die on me now when the exact same prob happened to the com before repairing the first time? Although the 2nd fixing is free i feel so unhappy that they are not taking it seriously. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever my com has a prob, instead of so called helping to fix the one part of the prob, they just do a system reboot and afk or smth. its about 3x already they do the same thing. If its like that i can open my own com fixing shop liao lor. Paid 60bucks to reformat and it takes a week too! How xin fan arh!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3951874413736727436-2485558744782588332?l=sanduc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/feeds/2485558744782588332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/yesterday-my-com-spoilt-yet-again-after.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/2485558744782588332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3951874413736727436/posts/default/2485558744782588332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sanduc.blogspot.com/2010/03/yesterday-my-com-spoilt-yet-again-after.html' title=''/><author><name>Rienei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06980731591088693893</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
