<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270</id><updated>2009-11-13T02:41:40.242+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What It Takes To Fall</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>376</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-9013074207346124873</id><published>2009-11-02T07:26:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T07:45:15.148+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Barely breathing...falling faster...'/><title type='text'>There's Going To be A Party Tonight</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Exams are this week...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;HOLY MOTHER OF SHIZZ.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have not studied. Seriously. Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing here. I feel like the only reason I got here was by chance. I'm not smart (far, FAR from it). I've got no special talents (unless you count rambling in my blog like the neurotic teenager that I am).&lt;br /&gt;*sighs*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I miss everyone. I can't wait to go home. 2 more weeks. 2 more freaking weeks of pure unrelentless torture. One more year of this and I'm out of here. I can't freaking &lt;i&gt;wait&lt;/i&gt;. Facebook is working really slowly here and its driving me insane. Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;There's no teacher in class and I'm glad about that. We don't have to do our modules. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Guess what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Next year, there won't be anymore of this Science Computer classes and I'm freaking &lt;i&gt;thrilled&lt;/i&gt;. I mean all we do anyway, is pretend to do our modules while we're secretly checking our Facebook/Friendster, Twittering (for me) or playing Dota (the majority of the guys in the class do). But that also means no more random blog posts from me. =(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I should really convince my dad to allow me to bring Broadband next year (like that'll happen).&lt;br /&gt;So my birthday is around the corner....&lt;br /&gt;*prays for a NON-repeat of last year*&lt;br /&gt;Sorry Mummy and Daddy. I loved last year's affair but I don't really want to stand on a chair and start singing with a ketchup bottle again (TGIF tradition). I think Trisher has a recorded version of that. BURN IT TRISH, BURN IT!!!&lt;br /&gt;Although I loved the part they sang and did that whole stamping their feet thingy. That was awesome. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This year's fiesta should be too but....its still tentative. Mummy, pleeeeease?&lt;br /&gt;I miss everyone (like that feeling has ever went away. It's been six months and I'm still missing you guys like a lovesick teenager...HANG ON...I am a lovesick teenager. T.T)&lt;br /&gt;Syauqi called last night. Totally made my night. (;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who don't know who the heck Syauqi is....I would like to say he's another half of me. Or like, the guy version of me. We met during Tunas Saintis and have been pretty damn close ever since (and that was what? Less than a month ago?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah Myra, Sash, Divya and Mel...I still have yet to give you the low down on this guy. I promise I will soon. EH, WE'RE GONNA WATCH NEW MOON TOGETHER KAN?!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;It releases on the day after my birthday. (:&lt;br /&gt;Btw, Jamie Campbell Bower (who is playing Caius in the movie) is MINE.&lt;br /&gt;Kthanks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;OH EM GEE....Seriously, just the thought of studying makes me sick. Can I somehow get into DeLorean and fast forward until I'm in college? I mean, I know DeLorean is meant for going back into the past Doc Emmet but...I just want to skip this whole high school plastic facade and get on with real life (outside Malaysia please...somewhere like...Oh...California maybe?).&lt;br /&gt;Big dreams and no hope. How do you like that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway....I'm off to go and Google some other stuff (READ: Alex Gaskarth and Dougie Poynter). Speaking of them... Their birthday's are coming up too. (;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll make a YouTube video for them.&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while since I updated my vlog. =/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;To write love on her arms,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/s: Pray hard I pass my exams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-9013074207346124873?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/9013074207346124873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=9013074207346124873' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/9013074207346124873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/9013074207346124873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/11/theres-going-to-be-party-tonight.html' title='There&apos;s Going To be A Party Tonight'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-193878023664163624</id><published>2009-10-26T07:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T07:48:29.319+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Damned'/><title type='text'>Drowning In A River of Denial</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hey people of the outside world (this goes for anyone who isn't incarcerated in MRSM Kota Kinabalu btw)....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As per usual, Monday mornings starts off with double period of Computer Science (a subject I have no idea WHY I'm taking although I hope this scores me points to get into electrical engineering...LOL)...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyway, as I predicted AirAsia delayed my flight yesterday (I got no words...SEEEEERIOUSLY!!) and when I got back everyone had already turned on their exam mode. Its like I walked into the world of alien robots who have nothing to do other than study. =/ The sad thing is, I'm an alien robot too. T.T At least until school finishes in November. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Speaking of November...Does anyone remember a certain someone's birthday? (Hint: It's not Dougie Poynter)&lt;br /&gt;=)&lt;br /&gt;Ha ha ha...&lt;br /&gt;I might be hosting a party but who knows...Currently the plans are still in the 'tentative ideas' stage and since I'm all the way across the South China Sea, planning is going to be...hard. Not impossible. Hard. Especially since I forgot to bring my phone charger with me. How utterly awesome right?&lt;br /&gt;Looks like I've got to search the entire girls' dormitory looking for someone who uses the same charger as I do. Good thing I don't use an iPhone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;While we're on the topic of the girls' dorm...there's a couple of cats in there that are SERIOUSLY on heat. I'm telling you, the male was basically humping everything in sight. And I...ladies and gentleman had the pleasure of having front row seats to a live cat sex show.&lt;br /&gt;-.-'&lt;br /&gt;You can sense how disturbed I am by now, aren't you?&lt;br /&gt;TRAUMA....!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on...&lt;br /&gt;Last year I did a whole wish list thing for my birthday. Today, I'm just going to post up two. And if by some miracle this does come to me for my birthday, then I'll love you forever. Promise! Lol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuThQeLoIsI/AAAAAAAAA5c/XWlMSihNpDw/s1600-h/_0003_Layer-13_0001_Layer-15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396685926592684738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 274px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuThQeLoIsI/AAAAAAAAA5c/XWlMSihNpDw/s400/_0003_Layer-13_0001_Layer-15.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuThQrikmhI/AAAAAAAAA5k/qQc6LNJCuhY/s1600-h/12301.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396685930178583058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 247px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuThQrikmhI/AAAAAAAAA5k/qQc6LNJCuhY/s400/12301.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There's actually suppose to be an All Time Low band T-shirt up there as well but the computer here is working slower than (what's something slow?!)...&lt;br /&gt;Well, you get my point...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Damn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm supposed to be finishing an exam right now. Lol. It's safe to say that this may be the last time I'll be able to blog before the final exams kick in (Next week...THE HORROR!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wish me luck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;To write love on her arms,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&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/6216946079475830270-193878023664163624?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/193878023664163624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=193878023664163624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/193878023664163624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/193878023664163624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/10/drowning-in-river-of-denial.html' title='Drowning In A River of Denial'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuThQeLoIsI/AAAAAAAAA5c/XWlMSihNpDw/s72-c/_0003_Layer-13_0001_Layer-15.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-5733610658986935256</id><published>2009-10-25T11:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T12:00:49.369+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fly baby fly'/><title type='text'>Your Dreamiest Nightmare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuPLueDAYQI/AAAAAAAAA5U/nrcshNndkiA/s1600-h/1107_14_344_2007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396380777720078594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 315px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuPLueDAYQI/AAAAAAAAA5U/nrcshNndkiA/s400/1107_14_344_2007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hey gang!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me living with the lights off but I &lt;i&gt;just&lt;/i&gt; found out that AVA is having a motion picture done. I KNOW RIGHT?!?!&lt;br /&gt;But poor Tom. =/&lt;br /&gt;Hope you get better soon sweetie. Good luck with the surgery!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, mama has to go back to Sabah today (&lt;i&gt;grawr&lt;/i&gt;). I'm really sorry people in cyberspace but it's the life of a boarding school chick. It'll be okay though! Because in another month I'll be back. (:&lt;br /&gt;I can practically &lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;taste&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/u&gt; the freedom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before that sweet, sweet moment, there's this giant dinosaur blocking my path (a.k.a. FINAL EXAMS). My sweet sixteenth is right after that. :D Ahhhh...Going back is such a buzzkill but you gotta do what you gotta do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Mum got me a Volcom pencil box from Bali and its awesome. The only problem is that I've been so used to having huge pencil boxes that having this one (which is half the size of my old one) feels a bit....&lt;i&gt;weird&lt;/i&gt;. Ha ha ha. Blame Sri Aman and their super-sized pencil boxes that &lt;i&gt;everyone&lt;/i&gt; brings. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Oh shoot. I gotta run, sugar babies. My flight is at 2.15pm but as per usual, AirAsia wants you to hang around LCCT like some sort of beggar with nothing better to do than to wait for a flight which they &lt;b&gt;will&lt;/b&gt; eventually delay. -.-'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good luck for all those people who are still having their final exams!! (Read: SEAN!!!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;To write love on her arms,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuPLuKRd__I/AAAAAAAAA5M/TMCq3mDJCgk/s1600-h/Alex%27s+Twitter+Picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396380772412030962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuPLuKRd__I/AAAAAAAAA5M/TMCq3mDJCgk/s400/Alex%27s+Twitter+Picture.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; To say that I love him, just doesn't cut it. (;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6216946079475830270-5733610658986935256?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/5733610658986935256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=5733610658986935256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/5733610658986935256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/5733610658986935256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/10/your-dreamiest-nightmare.html' title='Your Dreamiest Nightmare'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuPLueDAYQI/AAAAAAAAA5U/nrcshNndkiA/s72-c/1107_14_344_2007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-4257399197751430971</id><published>2009-10-23T23:52:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T00:22:34.752+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='To remind you'/><title type='text'>"IT GLOWS!!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuHRtuphIyI/AAAAAAAAA5E/odnoS7udGyQ/s1600-h/1107_13_344_2007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395824412113052450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuHRtuphIyI/AAAAAAAAA5E/odnoS7udGyQ/s400/1107_13_344_2007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Mira and I were arguing.&lt;br /&gt;Buzz &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lightyear&lt;/span&gt; is  no match for the force. I accept defeat. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, went to the dentist today. I chose the American flag colours for my braces (ha ha ha, I know). &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;MRSM&lt;/span&gt; is having their final exams on the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of November so I've basically sold my soul to studying (not the devil, STUDYING).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I can say I kept one of my New Year's resolution.&lt;br /&gt;To embrace my inner-nerd and act more like Ben Campbell. Who knows, I'll be heading to MIT in 2011? (:&lt;br /&gt;My stomach seems to be throwing a rebellion against me. It hurts like tiny forks are being poked through my skin over and over again from the inside out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've finished the Anne Rice series, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;yay&lt;/span&gt; me! I'm starting this new book called, 'Company of Liars' and it's about the plague. Awesome read. :D&lt;br /&gt;Well, for me anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really, seriously tired. Boarding school slowly steals the energy life force from you. Seriously. No wonder people there conform so easily. *raises an eyebrow*&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm not sure if its conforming or they're just closed-minded. I think its the latter.&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear God, seriously...&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me started on the kids there. It's as if I've stepped into some sort of prejudiced school back in the early 20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; century. No kidding!&lt;br /&gt;Its a good thing that witch burning was discontinued in the 19&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; century or I probably would've been chucked into the fires anyway. I hate being the odd one out. I try to convince myself that its called being &lt;i&gt;unique&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;But the students there are not the type to appreciate that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Anyhoo&lt;/span&gt;... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Trisher&lt;/span&gt; made me watch a random video of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;German&lt;/span&gt; kid playing a little too violently (poor keyboard) on counterstrike. It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hilarious&lt;/span&gt; if not a bit random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAMMIT I HAVE LOST MY BLOGGING &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;MOJO&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. WHERE THE HECK DID IT DISAPPEAR TOO?&lt;br /&gt;I.must.find.it. D:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To write love on her arms,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Tash&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/6216946079475830270-4257399197751430971?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/4257399197751430971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=4257399197751430971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/4257399197751430971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/4257399197751430971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/10/it-glows.html' title='&quot;IT GLOWS!!&quot;'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SuHRtuphIyI/AAAAAAAAA5E/odnoS7udGyQ/s72-c/1107_13_344_2007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-8753535175488906504</id><published>2009-10-12T07:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T07:46:52.031+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Sick and Tired of Writing Songs About You</title><content type='html'>Hiya peeps,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right. In computer science. Just got back from Penang from Tunas Saintis on Thursday. Then we were all allowed to go home because the water pump in our school broke down so I stayed over at a friend's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would &lt;i&gt;think&lt;/i&gt; I'd be able to use the Internet there but let's just say her younger sister makes Chucky look innocent. -.-&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a fan of kids  Baizura, and I will never be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo....&lt;br /&gt;We didn't win TS. But that was because we were missing only &lt;i&gt;one&lt;/i&gt; part.&lt;br /&gt;Data.&lt;br /&gt;T.T&lt;br /&gt;Can you imagine, we'd have passed the benchmark if we did have that and we could've won.&lt;br /&gt;Grawr.&lt;br /&gt;We finished the prototype at the last minute anyway, so it's our fault.&lt;br /&gt;BUT...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That doesn't mean it's the end. Oh noooo....&lt;br /&gt;There's another &lt;b&gt;international&lt;/b&gt; science fair competition going on. It's called iSWEEEP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dammit. Time is nearly over. I gotta run. I'll update more once I can get into the Science Department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To write love on her arms,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-8753535175488906504?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/8753535175488906504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=8753535175488906504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/8753535175488906504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/8753535175488906504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-sick-and-tired-of-writing-songs.html' title='I&apos;m Sick and Tired of Writing Songs About You'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-2629282525871092315</id><published>2009-10-01T14:53:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T15:00:26.858+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Forever seventeen'/><title type='text'>It's A Carnival</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hey. Quick post before I have to join Kamil at the workshop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Tunas Saintis project is nearly done. All that's left is to drill some holes and attach everything together. Then we're freeeee....&lt;br /&gt;Well not exactly, we've still got the pamphlet to do. And uhm...about 5% left of the thesis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm excited to go but at the same time all I want to do is go home. It's a good thing the flight isn't a transit or I think I'd be begging to be sent home for a couple of days. Even after months of staying in boarding school, I still can't get used to the homesick feeling that comes after every long holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm missing everyone as per usual. And I'd like to wish all my friends in Sri Aman good luck for finals. You guys &lt;i&gt;know&lt;/i&gt; those stuff. You &lt;i&gt;know&lt;/i&gt; you're going to ace it.&lt;br /&gt;So don't sweat it too much, aites?&lt;br /&gt;Aites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gotta go. I'm like, half an hour late! o.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To write love on her arms,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-2629282525871092315?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/2629282525871092315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=2629282525871092315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/2629282525871092315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/2629282525871092315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-carnival.html' title='It&apos;s A Carnival'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-7267362641578686890</id><published>2009-09-26T21:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T22:17:15.980+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Its just not the same'/><title type='text'>How Long Have You Been In Your Bedroom?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/Sr4eI2T7HqI/AAAAAAAAA48/StiLx_uEnY4/s1600-h/Debate+Bentong+188.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385775341748559522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/Sr4eI2T7HqI/AAAAAAAAA48/StiLx_uEnY4/s400/Debate+Bentong+188.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Yeah&lt;/i&gt;, you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I know I've been abusing my blog and leaving it to starve and rot.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry baby! I really am. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'mma be gone by tomorrow morning. T.T&lt;br /&gt;Grawr. My flight is at 9.30am and my luggage is &lt;u&gt;definitely&lt;/u&gt; 15kg overweight.&lt;br /&gt;*sighs*&lt;br /&gt;I was reading my posts from like, a year ago and I miss that time. More like, I miss my blogging style back then.&lt;br /&gt;SERIOUSLY. MRSM sucks my blog mojo out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thesis?&lt;br /&gt;Is not done.&lt;br /&gt;I only got about half a page of the introduction done and I gave up after that. Ha ha ha, Alex Gaskarth is such a distraction. Can you blame me? Anyway, I'm bringing my laptop there so that I can finish up on the thesis. Looks like prep malam it is then. Sadly, there's no Wi-Fi there so I won't be able to update this (well except for in Science Computer which is first thing Monday morning :B), let alone Tweet. But maybe I can like, steal the connection or something. (;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha ha ha. Never underestimate me, dude.&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoos...&lt;br /&gt;Baizura is over and I'm supposed to finish watching TrueBlood season 1 before I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;5 MORE EPISODES TO GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To write love on her arms,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/s: I just want to take this time to thank all my faithful readers. Seriously, this blog will be nothing with you guys and I'm really sorry that I've been a useless Blogger since April. I promise in November when I'm back from boarding school, this blog will have the glamour it used to posses. (;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-7267362641578686890?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/7267362641578686890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=7267362641578686890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/7267362641578686890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/7267362641578686890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/09/how-long-have-you-been-in-your-bedroom.html' title='How Long Have You Been In Your Bedroom?'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/Sr4eI2T7HqI/AAAAAAAAA48/StiLx_uEnY4/s72-c/Debate+Bentong+188.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-7805345654897267084</id><published>2009-09-22T23:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T00:08:29.001+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A gunshot will wake you up in the night'/><title type='text'>It's A State Of Mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;Mum is heading to Bali tomorrow. I'm going to miss her. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've pretty much been lazing around the house like the loser kid that I am. Oh, sure...I'm supposed to be working on the thesis for the Tunas Scientist. Notice how I said, '&lt;i&gt;supposed&lt;/i&gt;' to. I guess I'm just a bit pissed that the other group members are out having fun and visiting people and I'm stuck here at home with no life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jealous much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kamil isn't even....grawr. There are times I feel like yelling at him but fine...I get it.&lt;br /&gt;Raya.&lt;br /&gt;RAYA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANYWAY, I'm currently installing QuickTime so that I can watch this AP Podcast of All Time Low. Call me a stalker fan, but that band is pretty much my life right now. I'm sort of happy that most people in MRSM don't know All Time Low, it makes me feel like they're my own special band. This time, you may call me a freak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gets to me sometimes, how people there are just into mainstream music. Then again, like I said, I'm glad. Because I really can't be bothered to have a mindless conversation with some chick who thinks &lt;i&gt;she's&lt;/i&gt; the ultimate ATL fan just because she heard a couple of their songs, about who does Alex Gaskarth belong to.&lt;br /&gt;I love Alex but...I think I've come to terms that he will never ever date me.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I tend to remember reality every now and again, thank you very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to every Borders in town just to be told the same thing over and over again. The Leslie Simon book, '&lt;b&gt;Wish You Were Here&lt;/b&gt;' isn't even here in Malaysia yet. Yes, how I wish I was &lt;i&gt;there&lt;/i&gt; and not here instead. T.T&lt;br /&gt;God dammit, the book was released like in, &lt;i&gt;February 2009&lt;/i&gt;. How could it still not have reached Malaysia?&lt;br /&gt;So I bought a couple of other books instead (though I'm not giving up on 'Wish You Were Here' just yet!). One of the books was '&lt;b&gt;Slam&lt;/b&gt;' by Nick Hornby.&lt;br /&gt;I just finished it and its safe to say, I found it quite...honestly?&lt;br /&gt;I found it a bit predictable.&lt;br /&gt;Halfway through the book anyway...it started feeling like that. Like, oh okay...The character, Sam is going to be...he's gonna do...Next he's gonna...&lt;br /&gt;Get what I mean?&lt;br /&gt;No offence to Nick Hornby of course. I admire his work, I do.&lt;br /&gt;I've read '&lt;b&gt;High Fidelity&lt;/b&gt;' and thought it was a pretty awesome piece.&lt;br /&gt;I think the thing that I loved most about reading 'Slam' was how the character, Sam, is a skater and practically worships Tony Hawk. &lt;i&gt;That&lt;/i&gt;, I can totally relate to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently reading Anne Rice's series. I skipped, '&lt;b&gt;Interview With A Vampire&lt;/b&gt;' because I watched the movie. I know, I know.&lt;br /&gt;Books and movie adaptions are never the same but 'Interview With A Vampire' happens to be on my list of 'All Time Favourite Movies &lt;i&gt;Ever&lt;/i&gt;' and I don't really want to ruin my impression of it by reading the book &lt;u&gt;after&lt;/u&gt; watching the movie. So really, if its anyone's fault. It's mine.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm reading, '&lt;b&gt;The Vampire Lestat&lt;/b&gt;' now. I've only read like, a couple pages of it so I can't really tell you how it's doing so far.&lt;br /&gt;I sound like I'm talking about my kid who just started kindergarten. -.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It goes to show you how much of a geek I really am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To write love on her arms,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;CURRENT SONG: "The Balcony Scene" by Pierce The Veil&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-7805345654897267084?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/7805345654897267084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=7805345654897267084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/7805345654897267084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/7805345654897267084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-state-of-mind.html' title='It&apos;s A State Of Mind'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-7387054102169410631</id><published>2009-09-20T22:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T22:50:19.967+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Please don&apos;t walk away'/><title type='text'>Are You Nervous Sweetheart?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This year pretty much...blanched out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Raya&lt;/span&gt; was...&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I just wasn't feeling it. It sucks really. Does &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Raya&lt;/span&gt; only seem festive if its held in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kelantan&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;I mean seriously, there was practically nothing this year.&lt;br /&gt;No visiting people's houses.&lt;br /&gt;No &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;mercun&lt;/span&gt;/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bunga&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;api&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;No open houses.&lt;br /&gt;It pretty much, sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, my great-grandmother just suffered from a stroke so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Raya&lt;/span&gt; was spent in the hospital ward. And my grandmother from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Kelantan&lt;/span&gt; is in KL because she's still recovering from an operation. Maybe I shouldn't complain so much and just be thankful that they're &lt;i&gt;alive&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Of course I'm thankful.&lt;br /&gt;Just slightly put out, that's all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, guess what?&lt;br /&gt;I managed to score &lt;i&gt;'Labour Pains'&lt;/i&gt;, this movie that I've been waiting for since last year. Starring Lindsay &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Lohan&lt;/span&gt; (ahem, &lt;u&gt;not&lt;/u&gt; the reason why I wanted the movie) and Aaron &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Yoo&lt;/span&gt;. (;&lt;br /&gt;Now &lt;b&gt;THAT'S&lt;/b&gt; the reason. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;. Of course he just plays a minor role but who cares?&lt;br /&gt;It's Aaron &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Yoo&lt;/span&gt;. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have yet to watch it so I'll give you some sort of rating of it when I'm done. Oh, and bite me. I got the DVD box set of True Blood season 1. I wanted to get Ugly Betty season 3 but I guess I'll save that for another day.&lt;br /&gt;I really really really want to get this book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;...I seem to have lost my blogging &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;mojo&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I'm just seriously hungry. I haven't had dinner yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To write love on her arms,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Tash&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;CURRENT SONG: "Homecoming" by Hey Monday&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-7387054102169410631?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/7387054102169410631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=7387054102169410631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/7387054102169410631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/7387054102169410631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/09/are-you-nervous-sweetheart.html' title='Are You Nervous Sweetheart?'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-3434283839347001037</id><published>2009-09-19T07:09:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T07:34:10.725+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='You&apos;re like a very far shooting star'/><title type='text'>Plastic Hearts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There's something about logging onto my laptop in the early hours of the morning that I'm just completely addicted to. I'm going to miss Ramadhan because of the early hours that I wake up. It's so cool to be typing on my laptop, sitting in bed, in the semi-darkness. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm finally, &lt;i&gt;finally&lt;/i&gt; home. I slept in until 4pm yesterday. Like, ftw.&lt;br /&gt;If Baizura hadn't called my cell, I would've probably be dead to the world for the entire day. Ha ha ha.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't really do anything since I got back. Well besides log onto FB, tweet and change my blog header (noticed?), well I changed my desktop picture too from &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt; to All Time Low. It's pretty sick. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been listening to a lot of FNB lately. Oh and BLG's, 'Learning To Fall'. Divya scolded me the other day for listening to that song but its pretty addictive. And it totally fits my situation right now.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of that, I had a sort of epiphany on my flight back home.&lt;br /&gt;Which is....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why on Earth am I wasting my time and tears over this dude?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeeeriously....&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad I've finally seen the error of my ways. I find it almost laughable now whenever I look at the long scars on my arms. I can't believe I was stupid enough to do all that. I mean, he's just another guy. I went to boarding school to get that scholarship, &lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;not&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/u&gt; to get infatuated by some loser and lose all hope when said loser ends up to be the biggest jerk on the planet. So, my principles have been set straight again.&lt;br /&gt;I'm aiming high. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'mma get an average of 3.5 for my GPA.&lt;br /&gt;I'mma get that scholarship.&lt;br /&gt;I'mma get myself into Sheffield University or Western University (or if the President of MARA was not kidding, then some Ivy League university).&lt;br /&gt;I'mma be the most talented and amazing sound engineer.&lt;br /&gt;I'mma work and rock with an amazing band.&lt;br /&gt;I'mma be a part of the VWT crew.&lt;br /&gt;I'mma &lt;b&gt;conquer&lt;/b&gt; the freakin' &lt;i&gt;world&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Or the music scene at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;WATCH ME!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Hafiz Ashraf, you can gladly go and screw yourself. I've got my eyes on the bigger picture now. But thanks for making me see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To write love on her arms,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CURRENT SONG: &lt;b&gt;"That's What She Said" by The Friday Night Boys&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-3434283839347001037?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/3434283839347001037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=3434283839347001037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/3434283839347001037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/3434283839347001037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/09/plastic-hearts.html' title='Plastic Hearts'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-3601480883852457330</id><published>2009-09-17T15:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T16:09:15.577+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='All our truths should be left alone'/><title type='text'>JUMP BABY JUMP</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;No, I'm not back yet.&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently stuck at the airport because AirAsia decided to fuck up my already fucked up life.&lt;br /&gt;My flight got delayed until 6.00pm so any of you people who is currently still in Kota Kinabalu and wants to laugh at how pathetic my life is, please, do come down to Terminal 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the scars....haven't healed yet. Its almost like....the scissors had an orgy on my arm. No kidding.&lt;br /&gt;WHY?&lt;br /&gt;(I'll bet you all are wondering)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WELL GET THIS PEOPLE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He likes someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that my dear friends, is not all...He (and his gang which includes the girl that he likes) embarrassed me &lt;b&gt;in public&lt;/b&gt; so yeah...&lt;br /&gt;YEAH.&lt;br /&gt;The girl that he likes, I have no idea if they're a couple or not. But they're close. And he comes to my class everytime there isn't a teacher inside. So you can just imagine how I must feel like, seeing them together....&lt;br /&gt;Sitting at the same table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jealous?&lt;br /&gt;Who? Me?&lt;br /&gt;Fuck no.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Please pass me the blade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm like up to my freakin' eyeballs with stress because the Science Fair in Balik Pulau is coming up and our project is only about like...40% finished. When the holidays are over, we've only got 6 days left before we're flying to Balik Pulau. And I've got to prepare the thesis and the abstract and whatever else that we need to bring because (surprise, surprise), I'm leader for the engineering group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm running out of minutes. I'll catch you guys when I get home in KL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;If&lt;/i&gt; I ever get home. T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To write love on her arms,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-3601480883852457330?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/3601480883852457330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=3601480883852457330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/3601480883852457330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/3601480883852457330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/09/jump-baby-jump.html' title='JUMP BABY JUMP'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-8130740902027633953</id><published>2009-09-07T07:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T07:56:18.147+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I&apos;m gonna break your little heart'/><title type='text'>Broken 'Cos She's No Good At Anything</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Science Computer seems to be everyone's favourite subject. &lt;i&gt;Meh.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go without it. &lt;i&gt;Nothing Personal&lt;/i&gt;. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, I'm supposed to be doing my modules as per usual but I keep coming up with some sort of lame assed 'error build' thingy in my coding and it keeps going on and on about how the 'unexpected statement' when I followed &lt;i&gt;exactly&lt;/i&gt; what was written so...again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Meh.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screw that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tunas Science has been driving me up the wall. We've changed leaders so now I'm leader, Kamil is co-leader and Amalina is well....secretary. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;We've already started building our engineering project (named iTrashCan...pfft....) and we're going to fly to Penang onthe 4th of October. Exams are this Thursday. Holidays are next week.&lt;br /&gt;Where is all the time going?!?!&lt;br /&gt;How the flying fuck do you expect us to finish the project in time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;i&gt;Grawr.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*sighs*&lt;br /&gt;I'm so stressed out. Can you tell?&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking about him all the time. No Rianne, I can't. For some stupid mind numbing reason, I &lt;i&gt;can't&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I have John O' in my head now singing, '&lt;i&gt;I can't stop. Won't stop. I must be dreaming.&lt;/i&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sick of seeing him everywhere!&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;There was this one time where I was carrying the stuff to build our project (which included a giant ass sieve) and I was just turning the corner from the stairwell and nearly walked right into him. I jumped like 6 feet in the air and moved backwards.&lt;br /&gt;While he was all....cool and calm.&lt;br /&gt;Stupid Tash. T.T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, there's something weird going on with this guy in my class. Okay, I have to admit, I had a crush on him back when I fiiiiiiiiiirst came here. Then I fell for &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt;, right? The now guy. Well...The other guy, my classmate, suddenly started getting closer to me. And the thing is, he started getting closer to &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt; too. I mean, I know for a fact that my classmate was never close to &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt; before htis. Until now. And that happened around the same time as he started getting closer to me.&lt;br /&gt;Coincidence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;I'd just get all paranoid and shaky and nervous and...&lt;br /&gt;Well, like I am now.&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to go home. I need Sandra, Divya, Mel, Bai, Sash, Mye and Mira. I need to laugh. I need to think about VTW. I need to think about bands and other stuff related to that.&lt;br /&gt;I need to get away from &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;And yet last Saturday when I didn't see him the whole day, I walked around with a hole in my heart, an empty feeling in my chest and this constant aching &lt;i&gt;pain&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-8130740902027633953?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/8130740902027633953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=8130740902027633953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/8130740902027633953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/8130740902027633953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/09/broken-cos-shes-no-good-at-anything.html' title='Broken &apos;Cos She&apos;s No Good At Anything'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-3260242373057594115</id><published>2009-08-28T23:06:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T23:37:25.198+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vampires Travis Clark'/><title type='text'>Intoxicate My Mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpfzWpKbBLI/AAAAAAAAA4s/KaffyepiiV4/s1600-h/love-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375032250622215346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 218px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpfzWpKbBLI/AAAAAAAAA4s/KaffyepiiV4/s400/love-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Stolen from Travis's Twitter profile. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to be having a slight addiction with him for the last few days. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Meh&lt;/span&gt;. It's just 'cause he Tweets more than Alex does. Don't even get me started on Mr. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Poynter&lt;/span&gt;! He's been such a ghost Tweeter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I woke up this morning after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;sahur&lt;/span&gt; and had the weirdest dream &lt;b&gt;ever&lt;/b&gt;. I dreamt that some vampire guy turned me into a half vampire. And the setting was in my old house, it was a condominium and there was a pool and everything. And someone was having a Sweet Sixteenth party by the poolside. The thing is, the guy only turned me into a half-vampire so I was slightly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nauseous&lt;/span&gt; at the prospect of eating 'humans'. Like, the vampires in my dream was some fucked up screwed up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;vampires&lt;/span&gt;. They don't just suck blood from humans, they completely mutilate them. Like, *snarls* *lunges* *bites* *drains blood* *rips your throat out* *rips your head from your neck* *mutilates your body* *eats* *swallow* *licks bloodied lips*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;YUM&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I didn't really want to do that and the guy who turned me was like, "You have to or they're going to kill you."&lt;br /&gt;Which leaves me a great option, huh?&lt;br /&gt;Moving on, I have no idea why the girl invited a bunch of vampires to her sweet sixteenth but she did. And the weirdest shit is that Travis Clark (yes, the lead singer of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;WTK&lt;/span&gt;, PEOPLE, he &lt;i&gt;does&lt;/i&gt; have a last name you know. And it's not &lt;b&gt;We The Kings&lt;/b&gt;. T.T) was a vampire too! He was totally sympathetic and knew my dilemma. So he was all, "Its okay. I'll look after you and make sure no one decides to kill you instead. You don't have to feed on them."&lt;br /&gt;So there were loads and loads of people there. And it was night time. Everyone was either hanging out by the pool or swimming in it. Then suddenly all the lights went out, during this time, I was in the pool with Travis. And like, these fireworks came up which said, 'Happy 16&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; Birthday'. Then Willy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Wonka's&lt;/span&gt; voice (no kidding), resounded in the darkness and was all, "Hey, congratulations to the birthday girl. It's your sixteenth birthday-...(and some really long but sweet speech and lastly it ended like) -... Anyway, eat you soon."&lt;br /&gt;Everyone was like, "Huh? &lt;i&gt;Eat&lt;/i&gt;? Did he mean 'see'?"&lt;br /&gt;Then someone shouted, "Its dinner time guys!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*insert sounds of human massacre*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly developed like some sort of weird vampire night vision thing and saw the blood and the gore and everything. And Travis was holding me tightly in the pool (which had turned red by the way) and he lead me out of there, still holding me and making sure I don't get trampled on. I asked him if he needed to eat and he just smiled and kissed my neck, murmuring, "I don't need to. I'd rather take care of you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;That was the weirdest dream I had in a while (well, besides the ones consisting &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Then I went to Sash's and did add maths and modern maths and had a Friends marathon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which basically summed up my day. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I know. More interesting things tomorrow. *cross fingers*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy just came home from work. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;I'mma&lt;/span&gt; spend some quality time with him and Mummy now. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;CURRENT SONG: "That's What She Said" by The Friday Night Boys&lt;br /&gt;CURRENT MOOD: Wants a lightning bolt necklace.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-3260242373057594115?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/3260242373057594115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=3260242373057594115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/3260242373057594115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/3260242373057594115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/08/intoxicate-my-mind.html' title='Intoxicate My Mind'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpfzWpKbBLI/AAAAAAAAA4s/KaffyepiiV4/s72-c/love-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-6432373957700313308</id><published>2009-08-27T16:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T17:20:01.752+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reject the System Dictating the Norms.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpZLbz1OGtI/AAAAAAAAA4c/yiSurnhvUZw/s1600-h/Alex+81.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374566146455247570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpZLbz1OGtI/AAAAAAAAA4c/yiSurnhvUZw/s400/Alex+81.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Guess who that is?&lt;br /&gt;LOL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Anyways...I've been. Lazing around the house with nothing better to do and ignoring the pile of homework that is shooting me looks. I know I'm going to regret not doing them sooner but please I'd rather be doing Alex Gaskarth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O.O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, that was meant to stay in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;HA HA HA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is...well...busy. And it frustrates me about *this* much because I really want to see everyone before being shipped back to Sabah but whatever. I get it. Lives...move on.&lt;br /&gt;Pssh.&lt;br /&gt;I'll just wait here until someone suddenly snaps their fingers and goes like, "&lt;i&gt;OH YEAH. Natasha is back from boarding school. Let's go see how she's doing. I bet she missed us.&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I so totally butchered my hair and I'm so regretting it. Meh. -___-"&lt;br /&gt;It'll grow out. Seeeeeriously. I'm so screwed up. I can't stop thinking about &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt; and that's like a kick in the gut. I can't bring myself to smile (well I can but that's usually induced by Alex or the rest of All Time Low) and I'm really, really craving for some cheesecake from Secret Recipe.&lt;br /&gt;GAWD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what Baizura is getting up to in Greece but I'll bet she's having fun. I miss everyone. T.T&lt;br /&gt;This is so stupid. I'm back. Yet I can't meet them.&lt;br /&gt;I might as well have just stayed on in school and like, take care of the girls' dorm from ghosts and shit like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly wonder what &lt;i&gt;he&lt;/i&gt; is up to. Grawr.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if Kamil has already asked &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt; if &lt;i&gt;he&lt;/i&gt; wants to join us for the Science Fair thing that we're having. Just to help out. Hmmmm....&lt;br /&gt;A girl can still hope, can't she?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374566133501838658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpZLbDk4xUI/AAAAAAAAA4U/quxEatRaO9s/s400/Alex+70.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to lick his sweat off. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374566151931739938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 179px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpZLcIO6vyI/AAAAAAAAA4k/RRLKfh024m4/s400/Alex+77.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;You would *&lt;i&gt;think&lt;/i&gt;* that I'm over this picture already. But I'm not. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;CURRENT SONG: "Falling In Love" by McFly&lt;br /&gt;CURRENT MOOD: Tired/Sick/Head ache-y&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-6432373957700313308?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/6432373957700313308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=6432373957700313308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/6432373957700313308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/6432373957700313308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/08/reject-system-dictating-norms.html' title='Reject the System Dictating the Norms.'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpZLbz1OGtI/AAAAAAAAA4c/yiSurnhvUZw/s72-c/Alex+81.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-2269067903255865232</id><published>2009-08-25T23:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T23:35:20.354+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='if you could wish'/><title type='text'>Colouring My Senses Cherry Red</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's funny how different I am in MRSM and I am outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like outside, everyone gets me the way I am. No censored and stuff. But in MRSM, they see about 50% of who I really am because of certain restrictions there. Which sucks because I hate having to hold back. To always keep my attitude in check because it is '&lt;i&gt;frowned upon&lt;/i&gt;' in my new school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's wrong with being loud and jumping for random reasons? What's wrong with being 'open minded' and talking to guys? They're humans too. What's wrong with dissing girly fashion trends and opting for something a bit more grunge and punk? I ain't dissing fashion hombre, I'm dissing the stereotyped fashion trends which I never knew existed until I went there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly don't get guys. They say that girls are emotional thermometers but trust me, I think we're easier to judge due to the fact its able to read us (or easy to read &lt;i&gt;me&lt;/i&gt;) but guys are like...stoned walls. Which I keep walking into. Which won't even dent no matter how many times I bang my frustrated fist against the smooth surface. Impenetrable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't &lt;i&gt;get&lt;/i&gt; why I'm so into him when its obvious he doesn't feel the same way. Why do I always fight a lost cause? It's like, walking over a path which I know is studded with broken glass. I anticipated the pain, the blood...&lt;br /&gt;But no matter how ready I was/am for it, it still run shock waves through my veins. I forgot how painful it is. When the skin tears away from your flesh and your bleeding. Bleeding and bleeding and it just won't stop. Then the tears start to flow and you can taste them at the back of your throat as you try to control your emotions and put your game face on but eventually it wavers and you're left vulnerable and shaken.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Screw this shit. Rip my heart out and drain me of all emotions. I hate this feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laters,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;CURRENT SONG: 'Everything You Got' by The Rocket Summer&lt;br /&gt;CURRENT MOOD: Screwed over.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-2269067903255865232?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/2269067903255865232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=2269067903255865232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/2269067903255865232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/2269067903255865232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/08/colouring-my-senses-cherry-red.html' title='Colouring My Senses Cherry Red'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-5119940878719795493</id><published>2009-08-24T02:30:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T02:44:48.133+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='round in circles'/><title type='text'>Tequilla Shots In The Dark Scene of The Crime</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I promised pictures. So here they are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMJqQ4oAI/AAAAAAAAA4M/F8hKD0BsGRw/s1600-h/trish.tash.sean.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMJqQ4oAI/AAAAAAAAA4M/F8hKD0BsGRw/s1600-h/trish.tash.sean.3..jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373229928021532674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMJqQ4oAI/AAAAAAAAA4M/F8hKD0BsGRw/s400/trish.tash.sean.3..jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMJUfre4I/AAAAAAAAA4E/Mrf0WI4QfEk/s1600-h/tash.sean..jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373229922178005890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMJUfre4I/AAAAAAAAA4E/Mrf0WI4QfEk/s400/tash.sean..jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMI6FMGbI/AAAAAAAAA38/RVG5yKmxrfk/s1600-h/sand.tash.trish.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373229915087575474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMI6FMGbI/AAAAAAAAA38/RVG5yKmxrfk/s400/sand.tash.trish.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMIoQOogI/AAAAAAAAA30/FO5mlJe_hjY/s1600-h/sand.tash.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373229910302040578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMIoQOogI/AAAAAAAAA30/FO5mlJe_hjY/s400/sand.tash.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMIJg-NKI/AAAAAAAAA3s/M93cfICwnm8/s1600-h/homegirls2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373229902050768034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 346px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMIJg-NKI/AAAAAAAAA3s/M93cfICwnm8/s400/homegirls2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373229278255887490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGLj1srtII/AAAAAAAAA3k/iQEQEXQe6cA/s400/DSC_1833.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGLjc8wCmI/AAAAAAAAA3c/q5yJNqfZSRc/s1600-h/DSC_1700.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373229271612394082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGLjc8wCmI/AAAAAAAAA3c/q5yJNqfZSRc/s400/DSC_1700.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was actually taken because we both had spades on our necklaces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGLi-4PmtI/AAAAAAAAA3U/6Sj_2PYyBbo/s1600-h/Div%27s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373229263540427474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGLi-4PmtI/AAAAAAAAA3U/6Sj_2PYyBbo/s400/Div%27s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGLiWyUtgI/AAAAAAAAA3M/dEVnJV4JYhk/s1600-h/Dad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373229252778178050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGLiWyUtgI/AAAAAAAAA3M/dEVnJV4JYhk/s400/Dad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;That's how awesome me and my friends are. (:&lt;br /&gt;It was so great to see everyone again and just forget reality for a couple of hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad when I got back home, my thoughts instantly wondered over to the jersey wearing guy, &lt;i&gt;MARESMA 6&lt;/i&gt;. Oh screw you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'M GOING TO BED NOW!  GOOOD NIIIITEEESSS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;CURRENT SONG: Circles by All Time Low&lt;br /&gt;CURRENT MOOD: Bleh. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/s: Warped is almost over. Screw LA. Grawr.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-5119940878719795493?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/5119940878719795493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=5119940878719795493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/5119940878719795493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/5119940878719795493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/08/tequilla-shots-in-dark-scene-of-crime.html' title='Tequilla Shots In The Dark Scene of The Crime'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpGMJqQ4oAI/AAAAAAAAA4M/F8hKD0BsGRw/s72-c/trish.tash.sean.3..jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-1459956842687582485</id><published>2009-08-23T07:30:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T07:50:49.139+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='too much?'/><title type='text'>I'm An Addict For Dramatics</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpB_7itzYRI/AAAAAAAAA3A/Y-QhoeXFsHA/s1600-h/Image170.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372935016360927506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpB_7itzYRI/AAAAAAAAA3A/Y-QhoeXFsHA/s400/Image170.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;- Natasha Nadiah, Penang, December 2008.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;YO!&lt;br /&gt;I've been a horrible blogger but that's fine. I'm back now and holy shizz, it feels so good to be out of the cave. MRSM is fun and all because &lt;i&gt;he is&lt;/i&gt; around but even &lt;i&gt;he&lt;/i&gt; can't stop me from missing my homies back here. :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Last night's perfume is still lingering on my bed sheets and I'm still hyped up from all the dancing at Divya's Sweet Sixteenth. It was.... do I really need to say it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It was fun seeing everyone after months of being away. Divya, Sandra, Trisher, Mel, Rianne, Yuet Ting, Poh Lian, Sean...and loads more. Oh, I should give Izzul a special mention too or he's prolly gonna hunt me down. HA HA HA.&lt;br /&gt;I'll post picts of last night's awesomeness when I manage to get them from Trisher. Currently, I'm the only freak that's awake at 7.40am in the morning, on a &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sunday&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; during the &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;holidays&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No news from across the pond (Sabah, not UK) from my friends in MRSM. Kamil seems to have forgotten all about Tunas Saintis. =.="&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Tunas...I kinda need to text &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt; because we asked for his help for our project but haven't actually gotten around to doing it. Uhm, hello? Talk about shit scared.&lt;br /&gt;Its not as if he replies anyway. *rolls my eyes*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Oh. I finally launched my Twitter account. Thanks Sash!&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait to meet up again, this time we'll kidnap Myra from her house. (: I miss spending time with you both. Holy shizzzz...I need to go shopping. Mira, lets?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;By the way, I found &lt;i&gt;his&lt;/i&gt; Facebook account and I've been stalking &lt;i&gt;him&lt;/i&gt; like the fangirl that I am. FANGIRL? &lt;i&gt;HE'S&lt;/i&gt; not even a celeb. I swear, I've jumped over the edge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right. I should try getting some sleep. Stayed up until 3.30am last night. Woke up at 5.00am for sahur and been up ever since. My biological clock is so screwed up, messed up.....&lt;br /&gt;But listening to Alex's sweet voice isn't exactly helping though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;CURRENT SONG: "Too Much" by All Time Low&lt;br /&gt;CURRENT MOOD: Restless.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-1459956842687582485?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/1459956842687582485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=1459956842687582485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/1459956842687582485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/1459956842687582485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/08/im-addict-for-dramatics.html' title='I&apos;m An Addict For Dramatics'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SpB_7itzYRI/AAAAAAAAA3A/Y-QhoeXFsHA/s72-c/Image170.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-7890500171987267497</id><published>2009-08-10T13:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T13:38:10.075+08:00</updated><title type='text'>'Cos There's Nothing Surgery Can Do</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'M IN LOVE WITH THE ALPHA BAD BOY!!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Love.Love.Love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;*sighs*&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/6216946079475830270-7890500171987267497?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/7890500171987267497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=7890500171987267497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/7890500171987267497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/7890500171987267497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/08/cos-theres-nothing-surgery-can-do.html' title='&apos;Cos There&apos;s Nothing Surgery Can Do'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-8113637916021819380</id><published>2009-08-10T12:56:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T13:20:04.932+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='I love you forever'/><title type='text'>I Used To Be Love Drunk, But Now I'm Hungover</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hello people of the outside world!&lt;br /&gt;(Yeah, I think being quarantined has taken its toll on me).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So, what's been happening since I came back to MRSM?&lt;br /&gt;Well....Let's just say things have changed with &lt;i&gt;that guy&lt;/i&gt;. Uhm...it's gotten more....weirder?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, definitely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Anyway, when I came back it was the start of activity week (also this was the week we all found out that we're quarantined. No worries, no one is a suspect, its like...an act to prevent H1N1). So anyway, activity week was damn awesome (so to say so myself). Of course there were times when I felt like choking someone or not bothering to get out of bed at all &lt;b&gt;BUT&lt;/b&gt; the main thing is that...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;NO STUDYING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Its like being in summer camp. Without the summer. Ha ha ha...&lt;br /&gt;Instead of following our classes, we followed our homerooms (form 1, 2 and 4. Form 3 and 5 were busy studying so they're not allowed to participate). &lt;i&gt;He&lt;/i&gt; is in a homeroom quite close to mine and he's the leader. It's sort of funny because despite his bad boy attitude, he's a KD and he's the leader for his homeroom. OH! And he also represents school in futsal and volleyball and he plays the &lt;em&gt;kompang&lt;/em&gt;. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Okay, I cannot stop raving about him. T.T So the stuff they had during minggu activity (almost like PMD la) was...I can't explain it. We had traditional games, we had to build our own kite, we had to build our own aeroplane out of polystyrene, we had '&lt;i&gt;practical Haji&lt;/i&gt;' (quite a funny scene if you can imagine the guys wearing the &lt;i&gt;ihrams&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;OMGD&lt;/span&gt;, he was so cute!!), we had our homeroom dinner, we had a musical...&lt;br /&gt;The list is actually quite long and it's been a tiring week but its all good. :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Which makes this week feels like a drag because, we're back to the same ol' monotony of studying and studying and more studying. *sighs*&lt;br /&gt;I passed my Add Maths (47%), highest mark I've gotten so far in this subject. I KNOW RIGHT?!?!&lt;br /&gt;Biology, 60%.&lt;br /&gt;And the latest is Chemistry, 45%.&lt;br /&gt;Like heck, my marks dropped. I knew chapter 3 would be my death. Of course the only thing stopping me from crying my eyes out is the fact that out of 150 over students and only 70 passed. I'm one of the lucky 70. So I can &lt;i&gt;sort of&lt;/i&gt; breathe a sight of relief. Well...this just means I've got to study like heck for semester exams. Grawr!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I can't wait to go back on the 21st. I'm already counting the days. &lt;i&gt;He&lt;/i&gt; is absent today because he has a performance at IKM (Institute Kemahiran Mara Sabah, also where his dad works as Timbalan Pengetua) for &lt;i&gt;kompang&lt;/i&gt;. So I wasn't really in the mood to get up this morning. It seemed almost....pointless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I know, it's stupid of me.&lt;br /&gt;This whole love affair thing is stupid.&lt;br /&gt;It's one sided.&lt;br /&gt;He barely knows me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And heck, I think I'm just stupid for falling head over heels &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Remember how much I used to obsess over Ken Joe?&lt;br /&gt;Well this is &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;way&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; worst.&lt;br /&gt;Because think of it this way, Ken Joe....&lt;br /&gt;I only see him during tuition. Which is like what? 3 times a week, last time?&lt;br /&gt;But now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;This guy&lt;/i&gt; is on campus. The &lt;i&gt;SAME&lt;/i&gt; campus. So I see him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Everyday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of every &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;night&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Of every single &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;day&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;So tell me how I'm not suppose to obsess like freak?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;*sighs*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I'm so messed up. Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;You guys?&lt;br /&gt;Where are you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Last night after prep was such a scary experience, even for me. I have no idea why I worked myself up into such an emo and dark state. That when I got back to my friend's room, I started crying. Then laughing. And then BOTH.&lt;br /&gt;Its like, something inside of me finally &lt;i&gt;snapped&lt;/i&gt;. And I begin to realize how stupid I am. Because hell, let's face it. I don't even have the guts to talk to the guy but I confessed I like him?&lt;br /&gt;Funny, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Then there's the fact that I feel like I've let like some sort of chance pass by...&lt;br /&gt;Oh God, I'm so effed up!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Gah.&lt;br /&gt;Plus, my throat is acting like such a loser. It hurts and feels like someone had papered the inside of my throat with sand paper.&lt;br /&gt;Yep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Basically, all I want to do now is go home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#66ffff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do you guys miss me?&lt;br /&gt;I miss you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-8113637916021819380?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/8113637916021819380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=8113637916021819380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/8113637916021819380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/8113637916021819380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-used-to-be-love-drunk-but-now-im.html' title='I Used To Be Love Drunk, But Now I&apos;m Hungover'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-8667300919955632096</id><published>2009-08-02T19:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T20:04:35.970+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maybe....'/><title type='text'>I Feel The Same Thing Always Happens When You're Gone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hey everybody!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So yeah, it's been kind of a big shock to everyone that I'm back this weekend. Mostly cos I was supposed to come back on the 25th but due to some reasons (i.e. no flight tickets), I couldn't make it. No worries, I was fine in Sabah. Well, physically. Emotionally.....I've never been more drained.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It sucks big time when you have a crush someone on the same campus as you because you see them everyday of every hour of every minute. It sucks even more when he doesn't seem to return your feelings. When something so simple turns so complicated. When you don't even have the guts to say 'hi' to him because he's known in the school to be the &lt;i&gt;&lt;strong&gt;alpha bad boy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;So why do I like him?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Why do I find it hard to breathe when he looks in my direction?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Why do I break into a goofy smile when I catch a glimpse of his face when he walks by my class?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I find him endearing when everyone else thinks he's nothing but a waste of space (despite being smart)?&lt;br /&gt;He beats me in Add Maths every single time but is crap at Physics.&lt;br /&gt;He doesn't reply my text messages but looks up when I pass by his class.&lt;br /&gt;He has an awesome name but is called by a ridiculous nick name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I honestly have no idea why I like him. My friends there have been giving me support but I really need the people here instead of them. My best friends who knows me so damn well that no words are needed.&lt;br /&gt;It's stupid to know that I've shed a lot of tears because of this.&lt;br /&gt;Because of my shitty confidence and bad looks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Gah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I need to get a life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SnV_zeJ6E-I/AAAAAAAAA2Y/vfRSiAgr_SY/s1600-h/DSC08731.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365335053326488546" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SnV_zeJ6E-I/AAAAAAAAA2Y/vfRSiAgr_SY/s400/DSC08731.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SnV_y3-ZkyI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/lNX432h7KOc/s1600-h/DSC08586.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365335043077673762" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SnV_y3-ZkyI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/lNX432h7KOc/s400/DSC08586.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SnV_yvJKgDI/AAAAAAAAA2I/P9kONEQFRoQ/s1600-h/DSC08751.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365335040706904114" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SnV_yvJKgDI/AAAAAAAAA2I/P9kONEQFRoQ/s400/DSC08751.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SnV_ydaBDTI/AAAAAAAAA2A/kQcCCGssp0o/s1600-h/DSC08711.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365335035945749810" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SnV_ydaBDTI/AAAAAAAAA2A/kQcCCGssp0o/s400/DSC08711.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;P/s: Guess which one is he...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Later Days,&lt;br /&gt;Tash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;CURRENT MOOD: Tired.&lt;br /&gt;CURRENT SONG: Cute Without The E by Taking Back Sunday&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-8667300919955632096?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/8667300919955632096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=8667300919955632096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/8667300919955632096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/8667300919955632096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-feel-same-thing-always-happens-when.html' title='I Feel The Same Thing Always Happens When You&apos;re Gone'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SnV_zeJ6E-I/AAAAAAAAA2Y/vfRSiAgr_SY/s72-c/DSC08731.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-4129697334975661210</id><published>2009-07-09T09:52:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T10:36:00.711+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='It&apos;s time for you to understand...'/><title type='text'>All Stressed Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hi again,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Supposedly... I am suppose to do a research for Physical Education but in the mean time... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;(:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;As per usual...Anyway, I'd love to blog about debate but I'll save that for another time. Possibly tomorrow when I'm searching for things for Tunas Scientist (Inter MRSM Science Fair). I'm possibly in a dilemma right now. Although I can't really put a name to it because it will.... well to protect the people associated with it. Namely me. Yes, I'm selfish. :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Let's just say it involves something that hasn't happened, that I want it to happen, but I'm scared of the effect that it might cause if it does happen. Did that just make sense?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Haih.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyway, I miss you guys back home. Divya, Sandra, Melissa, Myra, Sash and Baizura. Can't wait to see you guys. Although it'll probably be in August during Raya hols. YES OKAY, MIRA, if you're reading this I'm really, really sorry I can't be back on the 25th of July because I just realized that my exams are on the 27th and there's basically no way in Hell are my parents going to allow me to come back right before. I promise to get you a present though. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;And hey, if you're going to be spamming my cbox with All Time Low, just send me the bloody video. *HINT HINT* That's why MMS was invented. :P Argh, they blocked YouTube here, that's why I can't watch it....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;T.T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Can't freaking wait 'till I come home!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;August......It seems so far.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;The prospect of exams are looming in front of me like a freakin' dinosaur and I'm basically stressed out to the max trying to catch up with my studies since I missed quite a lot during the Biro Tata Negara Camp and the debate competition. Which by the by, we got number 26 out of 41 MRSM schools. Uhhhh....No comment?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've got to get higher than 3.5 for my grade point average if I want that scholarship of mine to be a sure deal. Currently I'm at 3.13 and since it's 2nd sem already....studying is getting to be a lot more challenging. With the upcoming Tunas Scientist and everything...it leaves me a limited amount of time to do anything else (i.e. SLEEPING and STUDYING). Prep hours just don't cut it. I mean c'mon, how are you expected to concentrate in a room full of your friends and in the dining hall?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. The separated prep malam. Meaning to say, the guys are in the Academic Block and the girls are in the dining hall. It's okay I suppose, but imagine a large amount of girls all gathered up in one place. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Moment of silence?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; I don't think so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;They should't make the 'lights out' rule so early. It's currently at 10.30pm. They should at least change it to midnight. Or better yet, we can turn it off when we want to! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's hard to study in the dark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's harder still to sleep when the door is open so that the light from the corridor comes into the room SO that you can study BUT when you want to sleep it becomes a right bugger because everyone who walks down the corridor can see you sleeping on your bed. Well, sleeping on MY bed because it's the closest to the door. And I hate people seeing me sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Why else do you think I try my best to avoid sleep during travelling?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, I'm trying to get pictures from the Biro Tata Negara Camp. Basically, I'm hunting down every resource and there's actually a specific reason why I'm so desperate to get the pictures but I shall exclude that knowledge. (: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyway, there's 15 minutes left before class ends so I should go  now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Laters,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-4129697334975661210?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/4129697334975661210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=4129697334975661210' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/4129697334975661210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/4129697334975661210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/07/all-stressed-out.html' title='All Stressed Out'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-6174591685433429012</id><published>2009-06-25T16:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T16:53:53.458+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='debate Bentong'/><title type='text'>Milkshake!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;SO....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I pissed one of my team mates off. Why? Because I invented a new nickname for him. Okay, yeah, I'm mean. His name is Suheysen but I called him '&lt;i&gt;SuSu&lt;/i&gt;' (as in 'milk' in Malay). Which gradually turned into milkshake. Which then my other team mate improvised it to, '&lt;i&gt;HeyHey&lt;/i&gt;'. So yeah, I think he kind of got mad at us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Or was trying to be mad because he was the only guy in the group so with us girls, being girls, he just wanted to gain some 'sympathy'. Anyway, my laptop? I got it back. Thank everything that is holy! I can finally transfer 3GB of my life back into my phone before I send the laptop back to my parents. We're leaving Saturday and coming back here on Wednesday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;BUT...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I shall be in Bentong, Pahang. So for those of you who want to look me up, I think it's better if you do that on Wednesday. We're going to be free in the afternoon and our flight is at 9.45pm. So if you see a large group of uhm...Sabah-ians wearing red batik uniforms...yeah, I'm probably somewhere in that group. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Latifah? I need your debating skills woman! And Megan's. And Sandra's. God, I never thought there would be a day when I'd want to see Mrs. Jay!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Anyway, I miss you guys loads. Sandra, Divya, Melissa, Baizura, Myra, Sash, Trisher, Esmeralda, Andrea, Su Ann, Megan-....Basically the whole of 4SC and plus plus. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So...I should go. Space exploration and pharmaceutical involvement in sports are calling my name. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Laters,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-6174591685433429012?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/6174591685433429012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=6174591685433429012' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/6174591685433429012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/6174591685433429012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/06/milkshake.html' title='Milkshake!'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-7730874725541229523</id><published>2009-06-24T15:48:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T16:07:07.068+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Out here'/><title type='text'>We Are One</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hi people!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Okay. So it's only been about a week and a half since I left but a shit load of things has happened. Seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;There was Camp Biro Tata Negara (which is like a mini National Service, look it up) which took up most of my time. It was possibly...the most challenging thing I had to do so far since it concerned trekking through a jungle in the middle of the night with nothing but a torch and well...your group.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It was damn fun. Including the part where we had to go through a cemetery INDIVIDUALLY (might I add) by following a piece of string. Basically...if you want me to elaborate, it's going to take a while and I'm actually on a time limit because I'm actually supposed to be looking for points for the debate competition which is THIS SATURDAY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So...oh crap. I got no points. We got 15 titles to research. And I'm 3rd speaker. In a way...it's funny cos I'm coming back to Semenanjung because of it. In a way, it's just plain sad because I'm not technically going home....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meh. Okay, I lost my mojo for uhm...blogging. OH...My laptop got uhm...&lt;i&gt;'rampas'&lt;/i&gt;-ed from me. How nice. My phone nearly met the same situation. BUT...I saved it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So now, I should go back to finding for points. :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I shall be in MRSM Bentung from Saturday until Tuesday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And to Trisher's text message. I may not be able to make it for cheer '09 but I'll TRY to make it for Hari K, I say TRY because my exams are on Monday right after Hari K.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So cheers for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I MISS YOU GUYS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-7730874725541229523?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/7730874725541229523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=7730874725541229523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/7730874725541229523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/7730874725541229523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/06/we-are-one.html' title='We Are One'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-8310074244764874695</id><published>2009-06-15T01:44:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T02:13:16.573+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='put up or shut up you&apos;re wasting time again'/><title type='text'>Retrace Our Steps to the Basement Floor</title><content type='html'>Well ladies and gentlemen,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's that time again. The holidays are officially over and I'll be on my way back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sabah&lt;/span&gt; at 9.00am. Huh...&lt;br /&gt;I feel..&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;apathetic&lt;/span&gt; really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sighs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's back to instant noodles and instant porridge and instant...anything when you have hunger craves. No more home cooked meals. ='(&lt;br /&gt;No more hot showers. Instead, it's the freezing cold water at 4am in the morning that leaves you shivering so badly your teeth actually chatter. T.T&lt;br /&gt;No more warm bed and big soft duvet, just a dinky bed with a cold mattress and a throw.&lt;br /&gt;No more talking to Esmeralda until 3am in the morning and continue writing my fan fictions until 5am in the morning and eventually waking up somewhere in the afternoon. Instead, it'll be filled with catching up on studies, not to mention sleep too since it's back to waking up to the pleasant sight of dawn's ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. A year and a half?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Psshhhh&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the wise words of Nathan Scott, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;"You can't measure dreams."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....in my own words, "&lt;em&gt;Put up &lt;b&gt;and&lt;/b&gt; shut up, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Tash&lt;/span&gt;. Just imagine that four years from now, you might be touring with All Time Low.&lt;/em&gt; "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;HELLZ&lt;/span&gt; YEAH TO THAT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll blog when it's possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later Days,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Tash&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-8310074244764874695?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/8310074244764874695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=8310074244764874695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/8310074244764874695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/8310074244764874695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/06/retrace-our-steps-to-basement-floor.html' title='Retrace Our Steps to the Basement Floor'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6216946079475830270.post-6579783441349228888</id><published>2009-06-11T22:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T22:25:25.682+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Why don&apos;t you say so?'/><title type='text'>I'm Leaving What I Know Behind and I'm Living Out My Chance to Shine</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SjEQMYBod8I/AAAAAAAAA1U/jPhPOIO9C_E/s1600-h/All+Time+Low.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346072037459261378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 195px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SjEQMYBod8I/AAAAAAAAA1U/jPhPOIO9C_E/s400/All+Time+Low.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hi people!&lt;br /&gt;No, I haven't thrown myself off a 188 foot building.....&lt;i&gt;yet&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The reason?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FUCKING WARPED TOUR YO!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Like, okay, I was pissed when I realized that I haven't exactly graduated high school yet so I can't exactly leave and head out to LA (not like I have the cash anyway) to follow the warped tour. BUT, I had comforted myself with the fact that All Time Low would &lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt; be playing this year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Out of interest, I was checking the lineup for this year's Vans Warped Tour and guess who I see?&lt;br /&gt;Hellz yes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;All Time Low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;There was a video of Alex and Jack announcing and everything. Someone, please shoot me?&lt;br /&gt;I SO WANT TO GO!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;*screams*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Alex, you better be updating ATL's vlogs on Buzznet or I will shoot.....something. Not you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Anyway, I've more or less been bumming around the house. Savouring the last few days. Oh dear God, I promised myself I wouldn't cry. OKAY. Happy thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;I've been drowning myself in All Time Low. Heh. Did that make sense?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I've been writing fan fiction non-stop and I've been trying to sort out some personal problems. NOT like they've been sorted out. Seriously, I'm &lt;i&gt;this&lt;/i&gt; close to shouting, "FUCK THIS? DO YOU GUYS ACTUALLY WANT TO TALK TO ME OR WHAT? COS LIKE, FUCK, I'M THE ONE WHO HAS BEEN MAKING ALL THE SACRIFICES HERE! YOU THINK YOUR TIME IS SO IMPORTANT LA? I'M GOING TO BE SHIPPED OFF TO THE MIDDLE OF NO WHERE IN A COUPLE OF DAYS, MY TIME IS RUNNING OUT SO FUCK YEAH MY TIME IS MORE IMPORTANT!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;But, I don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Because I'm nice like that.&lt;br /&gt;PSSSH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Anyway, I've been swearing more and more lately. HA HA HA. I blame YouTube videos. Anyway, I found this All Time Low song and it strikes a nerve. &lt;i&gt;Several&lt;/i&gt; nerves to be honest. It's like Alex crawled into my head, took out all my thoughts about going back to MRSM and my thoughts about all the personal shit that has been happening and made a song about it. It's called &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Last Flight Home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; and it's specially dedicated to those people who have been planning and planning and planning to meet up with me but shit happens and everything is always cancelled out at the last minute. KAN?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Aih. I need closure. I really do.&lt;br /&gt;Or tickets to the warped tour. Jom Mira, let's run away and fly to Pomona. We'll rent a car and follow the tour. (:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;CURRENT SONG: "Poppin' (Champagne)" by All Time Low&lt;br /&gt;CURRENT MOOD: My shoulder freakin' hurt oh yeeeaahh....&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6216946079475830270-6579783441349228888?l=itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/feeds/6579783441349228888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6216946079475830270&amp;postID=6579783441349228888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/6579783441349228888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6216946079475830270/posts/default/6579783441349228888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsallagameofchance.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-leaving-what-i-know-behind-and-im.html' title='I&apos;m Leaving What I Know Behind and I&apos;m Living Out My Chance to Shine'/><author><name>Natasha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11692541471858175048</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14836152499471570191'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dch-5KnVcgI/SjEQMYBod8I/AAAAAAAAA1U/jPhPOIO9C_E/s72-c/All+Time+Low.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>