<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Wed, 02 Dec 2009 02:51:23 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>This life</title><description></description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>776</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-7039758373437498028</guid><pubDate>Wed, 02 Dec 2009 02:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-12-02T10:51:23.920+08:00</atom:updated><title>The enthusiasm</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.vagabondish.com/wp-content/uploads/laptop-traveler.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 667px;" src="http://www.vagabondish.com/wp-content/uploads/laptop-traveler.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogging is no more fun for me. I no longer eager to read other people's blog except for my closest friend and my siblings, because I want to know what they do in their life. Life..what is the life actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I can fly, and travels everywhere, yeah, since I am kid, I want to travel, from one place to another, study the other people's life, and the feeling as a wanderer always make me stronger when I am alone. Because I know I only depend to myself, at the same time, wonder whether there is anybody out there still thinking about me, and missing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like Time traveler or The curious case of Benjamin Button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, wanderer..traveler, from one place to another, always excites me. Lets quit this job, and do all the odd jobs to survive and live as a traveler. Hallelujah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my The Sims 3!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-7039758373437498028?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/12/enthusiasm.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-7824812419056603073</guid><pubDate>Sun, 29 Nov 2009 11:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-29T19:43:11.729+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>foods</category><title>Mee Bandung Abu Bakar Hanipah</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJZwBFF3SI/AAAAAAAABX8/XS8V2tqTNLI/s1600/291120093457.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJZwBFF3SI/AAAAAAAABX8/XS8V2tqTNLI/s400/291120093457.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409484783883771170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJbtkrMhbI/AAAAAAAABYM/bTaWYuj5ylE/s1600/Jalan+Ali.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJbtkrMhbI/AAAAAAAABYM/bTaWYuj5ylE/s400/Jalan+Ali.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409486940922480050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJZwZCuNrI/AAAAAAAABYE/-UisRmyicHQ/s1600/291120093453.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJZwZCuNrI/AAAAAAAABYE/-UisRmyicHQ/s400/291120093453.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409484790316283570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJdjOTkcyI/AAAAAAAABYU/Ous9i5QPs18/s1600/291120093454.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJdjOTkcyI/AAAAAAAABYU/Ous9i5QPs18/s400/291120093454.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409488962142368546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJZvsGlFFI/AAAAAAAABX0/9mIVRMxUJCo/s1600/291120093459.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJZvsGlFFI/AAAAAAAABX0/9mIVRMxUJCo/s400/291120093459.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409484778252866642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJZvDmQ1wI/AAAAAAAABXs/yHBqRz8bHE8/s1600/291120093461.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJZvDmQ1wI/AAAAAAAABXs/yHBqRz8bHE8/s400/291120093461.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409484767379904258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Its open from 7am to 5pm only. Muar, Jalan Ali. Nice Mee Bandung and damn good delicious satay that they have. This stall is parasites for a Chinese restaurant, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mee bandung rm3.50 per plate&lt;br /&gt;Satay rm0.40 per stick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-7824812419056603073?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/11/mee-bandung-abu-bakar-hanipah.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SxJZwBFF3SI/AAAAAAAABX8/XS8V2tqTNLI/s72-c/291120093457.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-8622204364892237722</guid><pubDate>Sat, 28 Nov 2009 05:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-28T13:29:43.766+08:00</atom:updated><title>What are you doing for Holiday?</title><description>This weekend, have to stay a few days at my mom's house. I feel that I am so comfortable with my own house now. I love the gym ball that I just bought, playing with it alone, ahhh you cannot imagine how childish I am when I am alone, I even have imaginary friend when I am alone, hahaha. Lucky I dont have any stuff animals yet, yeah I should buy a teddy bear, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I feel bored and my eyes tired in front of pc, playing with my Facebook and chatting with people that sometimes I never know, lol. Then, I will give a call to my friends, hang out together till we forgot that we have to sleep and return to our own house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky my computer got virus and I no longer can play The Sims 3 and Need for speed, if not, I will forget about the world outside there, I even won't take a call from anybody, yeah even my dad, lol. I will even forget that I need to eat, and I know sleeping infront of my pc is not abnormal for me. I remember that there was once, when I live with my housemate at Sabah, my housemate even forgot that I still in my room and I live with them, because I am so busy with my Sims, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh..this holiday, I am happy, because I still not reformat my pc, and I still can entertain my friends, thats mean I still can control myself, from lost...errr..in myself?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-8622204364892237722?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-are-you-doing-for-holiday.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-6548809759716749604</guid><pubDate>Mon, 23 Nov 2009 16:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-24T00:39:16.394+08:00</atom:updated><title>Today, the 3rd day of school holiday</title><description>I am fully booked by my friends this 3 days. Quite handful.lol, but seriously I love each of them. And happy spent the wonderful time with them. Also spent time with my parents, as I stayed with them for the whole weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq3HxvilII/AAAAAAAABXM/2LjH0AK5Tn4/s1600/211120093407.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq3HxvilII/AAAAAAAABXM/2LjH0AK5Tn4/s400/211120093407.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407335646851404930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lately, I buy bedsheet almost every month!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq3Hugk3mI/AAAAAAAABXE/VXSmu17aric/s1600/141120093386.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq3Hugk3mI/AAAAAAAABXE/VXSmu17aric/s400/141120093386.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407335645983333986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Am craving for chocolate, every day since last week, yeah..its almost the time..for the month, so don't blame me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq3HBKaHkI/AAAAAAAABW8/1VeCmy45rbE/s1600/231120093411.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq3HBKaHkI/AAAAAAAABW8/1VeCmy45rbE/s400/231120093411.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407335633810759234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Char kue tiow...yeap, my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq3G5D3rWI/AAAAAAAABW0/Mj_sGTfSGIM/s1600/231120093420.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq3G5D3rWI/AAAAAAAABW0/Mj_sGTfSGIM/s400/231120093420.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407335631635852642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Unfortunately, this ticket spoil my mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq140w4ygI/AAAAAAAABWs/G-CzA5OVjPk/s1600/231120093410.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq140w4ygI/AAAAAAAABWs/G-CzA5OVjPk/s400/231120093410.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407334290452695554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Feez, Pattaya rice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq14Snc9dI/AAAAAAAABWk/r0bSySGL-O4/s1600/231120093413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq14Snc9dI/AAAAAAAABWk/r0bSySGL-O4/s400/231120093413.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407334281286317522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq14E8jWqI/AAAAAAAABWc/ZPzP3y3emA0/s1600/231120093419.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq14E8jWqI/AAAAAAAABWc/ZPzP3y3emA0/s400/231120093419.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407334277616720546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Girls only, day..lol. Feez, busy woman lately, so hang out with her, is something that am waiting for, on this holiday, even she just live a few block from my mom's house, I enjoyed chatting and hang out with her, seriously, she never change..always my buddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq13aD9OpI/AAAAAAAABWM/jYvSiJ_qpxs/s1600/231120093421.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq13aD9OpI/AAAAAAAABWM/jYvSiJ_qpxs/s400/231120093421.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407334266105051794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Then, I bring mom and dad to have dinner at Ikan Bakar, dad not really well today, I hate to see when my dad sick, he never weak on our eyes, and when its happened, it is something that I don't want to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq13qXcsPI/AAAAAAAABWU/mfpd6h0NGg0/s1600/231120093422.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq13qXcsPI/AAAAAAAABWU/mfpd6h0NGg0/s400/231120093422.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407334270481772786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last, return to my house, and re-setup my PC at the next room. Now I have a workplace or multimedia room, lol, that I call 'District 9'. And, yeah my bedroom, I named it as 'The secret chamber'. Lol!&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/17363336-6548809759716749604?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/11/today-3rd-day-of-school-holiday.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Swq3HxvilII/AAAAAAAABXM/2LjH0AK5Tn4/s72-c/211120093407.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-4632275632839341703</guid><pubDate>Sun, 22 Nov 2009 02:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-22T10:18:00.110+08:00</atom:updated><title>Holiday begin..</title><description>Am staying at my mom's house for this weekend, as she keep nagging me that I forget her now, and no longer want to have overnight at her house. Sometimes I feel tired with this, but I know this is a transition stage for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry this few days, yeah a lot of thing happened to me, enjoy movie with my friends, my exboyfriend keep texting me to get in relationship again, a friend apologize to me and want me as her friend again..many thing..happened to me. But..I just have mood to grumbles and rmbling nonsense in this blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-4632275632839341703?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/11/holiday-begin.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-6660996933735400082</guid><pubDate>Sat, 21 Nov 2009 05:54:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-21T14:03:27.209+08:00</atom:updated><title>Hmmm...?</title><description>Hmm..?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people that know me really well, always can catch my mood without I say a word. Feez, she even know when I feel hurt by only some small incident while we shopping some groceries, that sometimes once in a year maybe, I did accompany her to buy something at Jusco. I know I am an 'open book' for some people, and the problem is they will feel uncomfortable when they know how easy my mood swing when this thing happen. Even with one word from others, I can feel insulted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And like Feez, they will start asking, keep asking, until I say the real problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like people know about me, I am talkative, that's enough burden for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-6660996933735400082?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/11/hmmm.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-5169987055395712626</guid><pubDate>Tue, 17 Nov 2009 10:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-17T18:36:10.631+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>emotion</category><title>Give up!</title><description>My papers that been grading by me for almost a week, become an issue for a teacher who, happens have a daughter in my class. Why now? why not the monthly test? why not the midterm test. What the hell she want to prove, am not good enough? then why she not suggest me to our boss to teach other subject? Seriously I regret that I not apply to transfer other school this year. And why she only want me to recheck that particular class? Damn, I am so stress out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And its happened that I have to take over a form teacher task to a colleague that never know how to say thanks when other person have to help her. A very young teacher who never respect older teachers, and because I am so young in appearance (baby face?), sometimes so obvious that she have intention to bully me. That teacher on maternity leave, I understand, but hate her attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to teach English anymore, no more please no more! I don't want to fight for something that I have no interest, I love language and enjoy it, but to teaching is a different thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to put a full stop. Last year, took an TESL course for KSPK is the biggest mistake in my life. Next year I will apply for transfer, burn the KSPK cert. I hate this school. I will do anything to delete the English teacher experience, I never proud of it, and always feel stupid because of it. In this point, I feel like I want to quit this job, for first time in my life, I really feel like I want to resign as a teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am stucked, with this English teacher status.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-5169987055395712626?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/11/give-up.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-2683955370090192690</guid><pubDate>Sat, 14 Nov 2009 02:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-14T10:17:19.690+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>thought</category><title>Money..money..money!</title><description>Almost a month am staying alone, and the biggest problem is my financial. No, not because my salary is not enough for me, actually I even got more  allowance for this month, but seriously I dont know where the money gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, manage my financial is something not new for me, but something that I really have to aware this time. I still hang out with friends, bowling and cinema but not as often as when I live with my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, to retreat and return to stay with my mom is a big No for me, I am happy here, and so comfortable with myself. I like the idea that I am actually can live independently, hmm ironically, those who close with me keep telling me that I am childish and not really grow up before I live alone, but my current ex- boyfriend broke up with me, one of his reason is because I am too independent and he afraid I will never respect him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next month, I have to plan my budget carefully, I always regret when the money gone and I don't know how I had spent the money. Now, my budget is only for fuel and foods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Err..by the way, my friends asked me to join him to cinema today...yeah another good film maybe!! See you at MBOCinemas 3pm, today.Lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-2683955370090192690?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/11/moneymoneymoney.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-320984808087063334</guid><pubDate>Sun, 08 Nov 2009 14:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-08T22:38:35.365+08:00</atom:updated><title>Facebook vs Blogger</title><description>Most of my time, I spent on Facebook. I no longer bloghopping, no longer have idea what I can write in blogger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Facebook, I can remove any bad commentator, friend or not, once I feel insult I can say bye anytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I love writing, no doubt. Maybe I just busy spending my own beautiful time at my own house now. Hmmm....I will write...blogging is one of my love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-320984808087063334?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/11/facebook-vs-blogger.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-4768006735287311937</guid><pubDate>Sat, 07 Nov 2009 07:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-07T15:06:46.164+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>foods</category><title>Today breakfast, lunch and dinner</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SvUcKkshTkI/AAAAAAAABVk/R3ulm4U-AcU/s1600-h/071120093343.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SvUcKkshTkI/AAAAAAAABVk/R3ulm4U-AcU/s400/071120093343.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401254296075456066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgot to put a few salt...lol, so have to put some soy sauce so at least, I can eat this noodle.haha. Mom, I can cook for myself now!!! Strictly for myself, err..for this mean time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-4768006735287311937?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/11/today-breakfast-lunch-and-dinner.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SvUcKkshTkI/AAAAAAAABVk/R3ulm4U-AcU/s72-c/071120093343.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-2821004884921710447</guid><pubDate>Thu, 05 Nov 2009 18:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-06T02:38:28.476+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>family</category><title>Siblings..</title><description>Yesterday, I met a friend, we talked a lot about our siblings, know each other. Yes, siblings is the topic that I can talk a lot about it. My siblings is my world, my life. I like to talk about how strong will my sister is, I can talk about why I have to drive auto car, its because my baby brother give up teaching me to drive a manual car, and then..the only thing that I can tell about my big brother, is about how close we are before he got married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, I miss him. A big brother that use to be a lovely brother to me. A comfort arm when world seems so cruel to me, the one who will make me laugh when this life seems so dull and he is the one who told me once, that each of us is a winner..that's how we come to this world..the competition between the sperms..lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big bro, whatever happened between us, how cold I am towards you nowadays, deep in my heart, I still love you as who you are. Miss you..love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2008/06/happy-birthday-my-childhood-hero.html"&gt;My Childhood hero&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-2821004884921710447?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/11/siblings.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-2887677892041680819</guid><pubDate>Fri, 30 Oct 2009 12:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-30T20:38:09.350+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>songs</category><title>Backward by Rascal Flat</title><description>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XDyqN16x30A&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XDyqN16x30A&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="325" height="244"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last now is  Friday evening.....and I love this song, smile everytime I listen to it.Kinda funny, lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-2887677892041680819?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/backward-by-rascal-flat.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-5076648172632072874</guid><pubDate>Thu, 29 Oct 2009 12:50:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-29T21:07:04.380+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>emotion</category><title>Will you still love me by Chicago</title><description>&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/v_0_bw04Cjg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/v_0_bw04Cjg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="460" height="240"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to find you today, almost a year, I keep hiding and try to avoid you, but today, I went to your place, just to see you, in a hope that I can have at least a few minutes a talk with you. But you not there. I am sorry that I am so weak for this moment. I just want to meet you. I don't know whether you still read my blog, but I hope, in miracle way, you know that, I miss and still miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You, the guy that ever make me cry, and the one who taught me the meaning of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Tolong jangan lupakan saya.&lt;br /&gt;Him: Selamanya takkan boleh lupa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-5076648172632072874?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/will-you-still-love-me-by-chicago.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-2915291615450958952</guid><pubDate>Mon, 26 Oct 2009 02:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-26T10:54:46.643+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>thought</category><title>Living by myself</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.ehow.com/images/GlobalPhoto/Articles/5009147/190836-main_Full.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 412px; height: 309px;" src="http://i.ehow.com/images/GlobalPhoto/Articles/5009147/190836-main_Full.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been a week, and I feel comfortable with it. And today my dad had return to his town, that's mean I will really depend on my self, and there is nobody will check on me every morning, like my dad did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the weekend that just past, I spent a great days with Dot, and I a bit worry about this coming weekend, I hope I will survive alone, and not conquer by the boredom that I hate.  And last night, suddenly I feel that actually yes, I am all alone, after return from Seremban, sent Dot to get the train, for return to KL. Then out of no where, I watched news on TV, that I rarely do before this, also cooked some vegie soup with squids as my dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Online with some friends (my pc got virus attack, cannot play The Sims 3, or this few month I think, thinking to install an original Windows XP) then go to bed on 12 o'clock. Yeah that's my bed time now. Now its become my routine, I will fully wake up before 7.30 am. Doing the laundry and have my breakfast. Am really thinking to buy a washing machine now, even yeah I still not miss the laundry every morning, except for last weekend, but I know there will be one day, I will start have a piles of dirty clothes in my bathroom. Sending clothes to laundry service will harm my financial, that I have to really watch up for this month as we got an early payday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because I know my school its a bit too far from my house, I learn to get ready early now, even yeah late for a few minutes on last Friday because I stuck in harvesting my farm at Farmville, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start to love my life here, its like I really control my own life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-2915291615450958952?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/living-by-myself.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-6078714487288608741</guid><pubDate>Fri, 23 Oct 2009 04:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-23T16:00:40.451+08:00</atom:updated><title>Why???</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://femalecare.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/pms.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 250px;" src="http://femalecare.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/pms.jpeg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly you feel like you hate everybody around you...&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly you can control a class (they notice you act like a Hitler this few days) that usually make you feel like you were in the zoo..&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly you feel like you are craving for attention, for love like a hopeless lover..&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly every sound that you heard can be a trigger to your temper..&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly you know in a split second you can slap, you can kill, you can murder any people that make you annoying and irritating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So our discussion today kids,why woman get PMS?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em..no, I think the right question is, can any of us just forgive any trouble, havoc or scene that done by a PMS woman? hahaha.lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-6078714487288608741?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/why.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-4370144617093798790</guid><pubDate>Tue, 20 Oct 2009 19:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-21T03:18:09.881+08:00</atom:updated><title>Daughtry-Sorry</title><description>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eJyb8fMm2E4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eJyb8fMm2E4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you listen to my story&lt;br /&gt;It’ll just be a minute&lt;br /&gt;How can I explain&lt;br /&gt;Whatever happened here never meant to hurt you&lt;br /&gt;How can I cause you so much pain&lt;br /&gt;When I say I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;Will you believe me&lt;br /&gt;Listen to my story&lt;br /&gt;Say you won’t leave me&lt;br /&gt;When I say I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;Can you forgive me&lt;br /&gt;When I say I will always be there&lt;br /&gt;Will you believe, will you believe in me&lt;br /&gt;All the words that I come up with&lt;br /&gt;They’re like gasoline on flames&lt;br /&gt;There’s no excuse, no explanation&lt;br /&gt;Believe me if I could undo what I did wrong&lt;br /&gt;I’d give away all that I own&lt;br /&gt;When I say I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;Will you believe me&lt;br /&gt;Listen to my story&lt;br /&gt;Say you won’t leave me&lt;br /&gt;When I say I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;Can you forgive me&lt;br /&gt;When I say I will always be there&lt;br /&gt;Will you believe&lt;br /&gt;If I told you I’ve been cleanin’ my soul&lt;br /&gt;And If I promise you I’ll regain control&lt;br /&gt;Will you open your door&lt;br /&gt;And let me in take me for who I am&lt;br /&gt;And not for who I’ve been, who I’ve been&lt;br /&gt;When I say I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;Will you believe me&lt;br /&gt;Listen to my story&lt;br /&gt;Say you won’t leave me&lt;br /&gt;When I say I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;Can your forgive me&lt;br /&gt;When I say I will always be there&lt;br /&gt;Will you believe me&lt;br /&gt;When I say I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;When I say I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;When I say I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;When I say I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;When I say I’m sorry&lt;br /&gt;Can you forgive me&lt;br /&gt;When I say I will always be there&lt;br /&gt;Will you believe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;For someone that I care, for someone that I hurt...this few days were a tough days for me. For zillion time in my life, I keep hoping and praying that I can change the past. And this promised will be the promised that I keep with my soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-4370144617093798790?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/daughtry-sorry.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-136238881923799118</guid><pubDate>Tue, 20 Oct 2009 02:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-20T11:38:49.559+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>emotion</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>family</category><title>Moving out</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/St0tOK1I1EI/AAAAAAAABVE/2PG_mw7DCHM/s1600-h/171020093272.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/St0tOK1I1EI/AAAAAAAABVE/2PG_mw7DCHM/s400/171020093272.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394517650108372034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/St0tNobTpTI/AAAAAAAABU8/8-114K6JM0o/s1600-h/171020093273.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/St0tNobTpTI/AAAAAAAABU8/8-114K6JM0o/s400/171020093273.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394517640873223474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Road from my house to Banda Hilir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Officially move out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am living at Bertam, but I will often traveling from Bertam to my mom's house. Seriously, strangely I start miss my mom and dad on the first night I realize I will live in my new house at my own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad came at my house on the first morning, bought for me breakfast and even make a coffee for me. Today second day, mom and dad come (at this moment actually) bring a rice cooker, and gas stove, also with some lunch meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly feel that they love me unconditionally, again. Even last two days I step out from my mom's house with unpleasant situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom, Dad, I promise I will always visit both of you, and will never ever say "I wish I can delete any of you", forgive me for my stubborn and bad temper of me. Now I know, moving out is not about freedom, is about learning to appreciate people that we love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We are loved not because we are good, but we are good because we are loved".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-136238881923799118?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/moving-out.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/St0tOK1I1EI/AAAAAAAABVE/2PG_mw7DCHM/s72-c/171020093272.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-854162792268478526</guid><pubDate>Sun, 18 Oct 2009 11:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-18T19:46:37.167+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>emotion</category><title>I am sorry...</title><description>I am so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://michaelpkrueger.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/stressed-out1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://michaelpkrueger.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/stressed-out1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and..I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.perkasiepd.org/Runaway.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 342px; height: 407px;" src="http://www.perkasiepd.org/Runaway.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a space..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-854162792268478526?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-am-sorry.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-1049321131692819689</guid><pubDate>Fri, 16 Oct 2009 06:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-16T14:39:20.412+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>foods</category><title>Nasi Ayam Bonda..after a long time..</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StgTzsHJkfI/AAAAAAAABUs/-jxsXtwa93s/s1600-h/161020093267.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StgTzsHJkfI/AAAAAAAABUs/-jxsXtwa93s/s400/161020093267.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393082332511572466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StgTyzu3M1I/AAAAAAAABUk/r8gnPE3nkLs/s1600-h/161020093268.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StgTyzu3M1I/AAAAAAAABUk/r8gnPE3nkLs/s400/161020093268.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393082317377319762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been there many time,and all with my ex boyfriends. The first time was with my first love, yes he always be my first love, and the only guy that I think ever really fall in love with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of my bad memory, after I went there last year, then I never remember how to go there, the road, I never remember that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then today, I accidentally pass by that road, and notice the place that quite familiar in my memory. Hence, I took a u-turn, then enjoy that Bonda  Chicken Rice alone. Take away for mom and dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I not really fussy about foods, for me Bonda Chicken Rice is one of the best Chicken rice in Malacca, okay you can exclude the Hainan Chicken Rice. But no doubt, whenever I come here, this place always remind me on someone..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-1049321131692819689?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/nasi-ayam-bondaafter-long-time.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StgTzsHJkfI/AAAAAAAABUs/-jxsXtwa93s/s72-c/161020093267.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-4526973446593482645</guid><pubDate>Wed, 14 Oct 2009 11:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-14T19:29:59.529+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>life</category><title>Sushi Member's day and a comfy chair.</title><description>On leave today, as I have to take rest after invigilating PMR, goshh who ask them to assigned me replace a teacher on invigilating PMR, now I am taking a break for a day, so what? Hahaahha. Evil me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to watch Papadom at MBO, alone, and I took my favourite seat, that kinda isolated from other seats, its so damn cool wacthing alone, put my legs cross on the front row, blame my big bro, he taught me whenever nobody see us, we can do that, lol. And I laughed as free as I can, almost nobody in that theatre, its like me in my own world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, went to Jusco, really want to go Sushi King as today is 3rd day of Sushi King Member's day, at first I decided to go alone, but then, thinking it must be fun to have some friends with me, then remember a friend that we met again after a long silent war 2 weeks ago, contacted him, and he more than willing to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StWxVbh6gFI/AAAAAAAABUM/2chn_wErSCQ/s1600-h/141020093251.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StWxVbh6gFI/AAAAAAAABUM/2chn_wErSCQ/s400/141020093251.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392411110571409490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That tower of 15 plates was his, and this time we enjoyed Unagi so much!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4pm, I drove to my house at Bertam, waiting for the Telekom man to install phone line as they promised me this afternoon. That man come almost a few minutes to 5! While waiting for that man that working on downstair, I rest my self on a small leather sofa that I bought last week, I admired this small sofa (try to find on Google how to define this seat, its not loveseat or couch, so I call it sofa, even its not really accurate, lol) since last month and keep hoping that its not out of the stock on this payday. Lucky I am the one who bought the last stock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fall asleep in this sofa. This few days, sleeping is precious to me, as usual, I have trouble to sleep at night, and this small sofa seems so comfy and offer me a good sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StWzBDMdf8I/AAAAAAAABUU/xeKXa3rqP7I/s1600-h/141020093253.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StWzBDMdf8I/AAAAAAAABUU/xeKXa3rqP7I/s400/141020093253.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392412959464849346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StWxUwQfLTI/AAAAAAAABUE/Nl2UvE_r2aw/s1600-h/141020093250.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes the Telekom guy wake me up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-4526973446593482645?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/sushi-members-day-and-comfy-sofa.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StWxVbh6gFI/AAAAAAAABUM/2chn_wErSCQ/s72-c/141020093251.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-5305026308971018058</guid><pubDate>Mon, 12 Oct 2009 12:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-12T21:35:20.620+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>mission</category><title>I did it!</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StMt2w04EsI/AAAAAAAABT8/cP0aHqYWKXc/s1600-h/akurayabila-horz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 420px; height: 221px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StMt2w04EsI/AAAAAAAABT8/cP0aHqYWKXc/s400/akurayabila-horz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391703597735482050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I took some pictures on me, and I can see that I am slimmer than last year. Oh..I actually did that? I loss a weight? Most of my clothes, especially the formal clothes for work start give uncomfortable feeling for me loose here and there. But I hate formal clothes so I don't like to buy a new one, I only got a few new formal clothes this year, and it just because my mom choose and bought that for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, I will go swimming again, as my swimming trainer work on evening and he has time to guide me more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just imagine if I start all this thing 4 years ago? Woaaaa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People asking me to take diet pill, go to slimming center or take any diet progamme that no need work out or diet, just take this and that thing. Seriously, I never believe in that, the first reason because all that thing is unaffordable for me, most of my money I spent on cinema and bowling, and now new stuff for my house everymonth, so I don't give a damn for that diet pills. And, I cannot do routine thing. Take this pills every this and that hour, damn thats not my thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even my progress is slow and sometimes I give up and demotivated, but I start fall in love with gym and swimming pool, so this love will never betray me, I know that!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you see the differences, haha, maybe the pictures not really show that. But can you believe that pink t-shirt that I wore on the latest picture (that not so latest, i took that picture last month) is kinda tight before this and I often wear it because i hate that, now..its one of my favorite t-shirt because it fit me well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-5305026308971018058?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-did-it.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/StMt2w04EsI/AAAAAAAABT8/cP0aHqYWKXc/s72-c/akurayabila-horz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-9010680964808896670</guid><pubDate>Thu, 08 Oct 2009 15:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-08T23:39:27.992+08:00</atom:updated><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>foods</category><category domain='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#'>mission</category><title>Swimming, foods and Me!</title><description>Is not easy to learn swimming, and it will be tougher if you have traumatize with water, but lucky me, I was someone who don't have that trauma, I am afraid of height, so its fair. Even though my sister call me 'Water baby', I also actually have some bad imagination about lake or river, its happened because when I am a child, my siblings force me to watch a horror movie title 'Buaya Putih' (White crocodile), its a story about evil human that can be transformed to a crocodile when he want to kill his victim, something like that. Yes, since I am a kid, my siblings always bully me with forcing me to sit in front of TV while they wacthing the horror movie, especially the Indonesian film, when I try to run and hide in my room, my sister said she will drag and tie me infront of that TV, so they can look on my face when I cry and screaming...phewww...yes I am a bully victim when I am a child. I even scared to take bath for a few days because I am scared there is crocodile in my bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky I overcome that trauma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually today, I want to tell you now I can swim with frestyle techique, hahaa.lol. The swimming trainer must be proud of me, with only 2 session, now I can swim with that technique 5 laps, in 50m pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hence, I am really tired with this success, I reward myself with...Sushi King!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Ss4HWjULAcI/AAAAAAAABT0/MJMjxM27VcI/s1600-h/081020093209.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Ss4HWjULAcI/AAAAAAAABT0/MJMjxM27VcI/s400/081020093209.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390253888027427266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unagi ala carte! lol. How many calories been burn today, and how many calories I gained just now.lol, use your scientific calculator please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-9010680964808896670?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/swimming-foods-and-me.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/Ss4HWjULAcI/AAAAAAAABT0/MJMjxM27VcI/s72-c/081020093209.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-6202727290988677707</guid><pubDate>Sun, 04 Oct 2009 20:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-05T05:10:28.482+08:00</atom:updated><title>Man, can you please be a MAN?!</title><description>Today I got his call, he keep apologized on whatever happened on the last EIdulfitri break. He is under pressure in coping with his life there, again, with his work stress. And loneliness make he thinking of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, why o why, I always meet a guy who is cannot stand by his own self? Then I realize, why I have so many male buddy, because most of man that I meet is not independents, not show us they are a man. Not easy for me to fall in love with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woman fall in love with guys because of their man's characters. Thats all. In my view, and sorry for feminist out there, as a woman, I am easily to attach emotionally with a man that have dominance side, who always in control, in managing his anger and never act as coward!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is for nobody, right now. But because I am so damn empathy person, yes I listened to him for about half an hour. Damn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm talking about dominance character, I should give a credit to my swimming trainer who succeed in making me struggle and learned some basic swimming technique, in the gym, he is the only person that can change my answer from "No" to "Yes, sir" lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-6202727290988677707?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/man-can-you-please-be-man.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-7649402901552489658</guid><pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2009 12:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-01T20:27:34.576+08:00</atom:updated><title>Trying my best</title><description>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SsSfT2WRx0I/AAAAAAAABTs/kr3rsh_jFt8/s1600-h/300920093161.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SsSfT2WRx0I/AAAAAAAABTs/kr3rsh_jFt8/s400/300920093161.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387606217597241154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SsSfTblvZnI/AAAAAAAABTk/7CJPcctTvA4/s1600-h/300920093156.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SsSfTblvZnI/AAAAAAAABTk/7CJPcctTvA4/s400/300920093156.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387606210414339698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SsSfS3ebt4I/AAAAAAAABTc/KC5KeXQ16HM/s1600-h/300920093154.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SsSfS3ebt4I/AAAAAAAABTc/KC5KeXQ16HM/s400/300920093154.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387606200720013186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School already get my maximum level of bored. Suddenly I was assigned to in charge in a camp for prefect, the best thing is, it was organize by a consultant, we, teachers, don't have to do a lot of thing, we just dealing with students and assist whenever they need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its really a break for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am trying my best to keep my rational about the positive side on this life. Keep my feet in a bright side of anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I just tired...sleepless night, full focus on Mafia Wars and Farmville..haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-7649402901552489658?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/10/trying-my-best.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Nh1F79qDFmM/SsSfT2WRx0I/AAAAAAAABTs/kr3rsh_jFt8/s72-c/300920093161.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17363336.post-8488254691244622405</guid><pubDate>Tue, 29 Sep 2009 16:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-30T06:57:35.539+08:00</atom:updated><title>Temper (2) End</title><description>On this fateful day, a student become a victim of my temper, something that only will happen 4 years back in my career as teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just hope that student will not make a scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, what happen to me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17363336-8488254691244622405?l=amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://amirahsyuhada.blogspot.com/2009/09/temper_30.html</link><author>amirahsyuhada@gmail.com (amirahsyuhada)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item></channel></rss>