La la la la, take me home.
Showing posts with label marvel me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marvel me. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Monday, July 20, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
` leave the ring on your finger
personal attacks: cheap shot.
yeahp. I learnt that today, fo sure.
Finally watched the season finale for GG.
"Like, can you say it twice?"
OHMAIGOSH. C and B, finally hitting it off properly! About time! :)
Time to pack my bags and buy shampoo.
On the other hand,
boring =_=. I kinda expected alot more, considering the cast?!
*******
Finally watched the season finale for GG.
"Like, can you say it twice?"
OHMAIGOSH. C and B, finally hitting it off properly! About time! :)
Time to pack my bags and buy shampoo.
On the other hand,
boring =_=. I kinda expected alot more, considering the cast?!
*******
It is very true (for me especially) when it comes to the impression of turning (insert any age here), you never really just turn that age. Say I turned nineteen, right? I wouldn't feel nineteen instantaneously. Do you wake up on the day of your birthday feeling exactly one year older from before? Because I don't. I don't wake up feeling more mature, more intelligent, more self-sufficient or independent. Come on. Who am I kidding?
I remember very clearly my sixth birthday - there was a clown and professionals who painted butterflies on my face and different stuff on my friends faces. I wanted to be sixteen, not just for the frivolity of it all, but because the clown made me lay eggs (ass of a magic trick) in front of my friends. I wanted to be sixteen, so that I would stand up to that huge clown in front of me and step on his damned toes, without being afraid. YeahI was mean like that. I hated the clown alot for making me "lay eggs" in front of a crowd. Sure, the kids prolly didn't understand what was going on, and prolly thought it was cool and all, but I guess it was me wanting to grow up faster that got me all worked up at the clown. I wore a pink dress, and I had a pink butterfly on my whole face btw. I remember distinctly, two people. Jonathan (who's nearly a full-fledged doctor now! - wow) and Emily (I don't remember how I knew her or where she is now, or what happened to her =_= *shy). I wonder where she is, I wanna go back to being six, so I could ask her to stay and be my friend till today.
Then, there was a time when i was nine, and I hated school so much, because of the workload and all that forcing of Mandarin speaking - I got my kakak to do my tuition homework for me, and (duh) my teacher found out, and she kinda rotan me, and I wanted to be six all over again, because I wanted to cry so badly, but I wouldn't cos I was at the tuition teacher's house. I didn't wanna "embarrass" myself any more than I already had. Technically, irrelevant, because in my days, EVERYONE got a taste of the rotan on a regular basis. Plus, Chinese school kids have it harder - if they tell their parents the teacher caned them, they'd prolly get another round at home. Oh yeah. Our parents (nearly 50 students in a class) would give teachers canes (at least two from each of us) for freaking Teacher's Day (FTW), and there'd be at least 100 canes in the cupboard - couldn't have possibly hid or disposed that many - it would've been too obvious. Those days, I wanted to be thirteen so I could get into high school - Mandarin-free. Not so excited about that now.
Throughout my high school years, when exams were coming, I wanted to be twenty five so I would be able to work, and not study. Then when the parents decided to transfer me to a new school on the basis of more appropriate environment and conditions, I wanted to be six all over again, where I didn't have to worry about making friends, or caring even, if I have friends. Lol. Between being fourteen and seventeen, I bailed classes - less, with each passing year of course, but the moments I bailed classes and escaped punishment-free, I felt older, and superior. I felt nineteen. Just like a big girl. When I was fifteen, I never really went out with my friends, and that never posed as a problem, cos I had enough fun at home. When I was sixteen and had the sudden surge to go out, I think my parents freaked, and gave me pretty tight curfews. Those moments, I wanted to be twenty one, so that I could make my own decisions.
When I turned seventeen, my parents let me go out more, come back later - I wanted to be fourteen all over, so that they'd stop me from going out, and call me more often - just for the sake of security. Now, being nineteen, there are so many things I have no control over, and I want to cry - I want to be three, so that I can cry, and no one will judge me. In fact, people would mollycoddle me. When I falter or procrastinate and leave my work to the very last moment and I have to face the consequences, I get really scared, and I wish I were nine, so that school would be just about homework, not completing it, and bearing with the caning. That's all. Today, when I see my people around me sad, and I feel hopelessly helpless, I feel fourteen, and naive.
Therefore, I believe that no matter how old or young you are, you always want something more (or less). I am nineteen, and when i'm scared, I feel the fear I felt when I was six when I got lost in the shopping mall. I am nineteen, when i'm stressed out, I wanna be twenty three and a graduate - that way I wouldn't have to study so hard now. I am nineteen and when I turn twenty, I'll still feel nineteen, eighteen, all the way to three years young, and nothing is going to change. Tomorrow afternoon, I fly off with three friends for an ER, and I know that I am happy being me, because I am blessed - whether I am ten, eleven, sixteen, eighteen or twenty one. Oh and making the decision to come back before class, I felt like I was mature - twenty eight would be the number I would have labeled my age-of-the-moment. Waking up at 5.30am, going for Ascension mass at 6.30am, and seeing the blacks, Ivs and L, I felt like we were all twenty five - mature and deciding on what our priorities were - even if we were exhausted from the previous day - we went there by choice - on our own.
So really, being nineteen, I am one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen years old - until I turn twenty, plus all my being of older ages. Yeah.
I remember very clearly my sixth birthday - there was a clown and professionals who painted butterflies on my face and different stuff on my friends faces. I wanted to be sixteen, not just for the frivolity of it all, but because the clown made me lay eggs (ass of a magic trick) in front of my friends. I wanted to be sixteen, so that I would stand up to that huge clown in front of me and step on his damned toes, without being afraid. Yeah
Then, there was a time when i was nine, and I hated school so much, because of the workload and all that forcing of Mandarin speaking - I got my kakak to do my tuition homework for me, and (duh) my teacher found out, and she kinda rotan me, and I wanted to be six all over again, because I wanted to cry so badly, but I wouldn't cos I was at the tuition teacher's house. I didn't wanna "embarrass" myself any more than I already had. Technically, irrelevant, because in my days, EVERYONE got a taste of the rotan on a regular basis. Plus, Chinese school kids have it harder - if they tell their parents the teacher caned them, they'd prolly get another round at home. Oh yeah. Our parents (nearly 50 students in a class) would give teachers canes (at least two from each of us) for freaking Teacher's Day (FTW), and there'd be at least 100 canes in the cupboard - couldn't have possibly hid or disposed that many - it would've been too obvious. Those days, I wanted to be thirteen so I could get into high school - Mandarin-free. Not so excited about that now.
Throughout my high school years, when exams were coming, I wanted to be twenty five so I would be able to work, and not study. Then when the parents decided to transfer me to a new school on the basis of more appropriate environment and conditions, I wanted to be six all over again, where I didn't have to worry about making friends, or caring even, if I have friends. Lol. Between being fourteen and seventeen, I bailed classes - less, with each passing year of course, but the moments I bailed classes and escaped punishment-free, I felt older, and superior. I felt nineteen. Just like a big girl. When I was fifteen, I never really went out with my friends, and that never posed as a problem, cos I had enough fun at home. When I was sixteen and had the sudden surge to go out, I think my parents freaked, and gave me pretty tight curfews. Those moments, I wanted to be twenty one, so that I could make my own decisions.
When I turned seventeen, my parents let me go out more, come back later - I wanted to be fourteen all over, so that they'd stop me from going out, and call me more often - just for the sake of security. Now, being nineteen, there are so many things I have no control over, and I want to cry - I want to be three, so that I can cry, and no one will judge me. In fact, people would mollycoddle me. When I falter or procrastinate and leave my work to the very last moment and I have to face the consequences, I get really scared, and I wish I were nine, so that school would be just about homework, not completing it, and bearing with the caning. That's all. Today, when I see my people around me sad, and I feel hopelessly helpless, I feel fourteen, and naive.
Therefore, I believe that no matter how old or young you are, you always want something more (or less). I am nineteen, and when i'm scared, I feel the fear I felt when I was six when I got lost in the shopping mall. I am nineteen, when i'm stressed out, I wanna be twenty three and a graduate - that way I wouldn't have to study so hard now. I am nineteen and when I turn twenty, I'll still feel nineteen, eighteen, all the way to three years young, and nothing is going to change. Tomorrow afternoon, I fly off with three friends for an ER, and I know that I am happy being me, because I am blessed - whether I am ten, eleven, sixteen, eighteen or twenty one. Oh and making the decision to come back before class, I felt like I was mature - twenty eight would be the number I would have labeled my age-of-the-moment. Waking up at 5.30am, going for Ascension mass at 6.30am, and seeing the blacks, Ivs and L, I felt like we were all twenty five - mature and deciding on what our priorities were - even if we were exhausted from the previous day - we went there by choice - on our own.
So really, being nineteen, I am one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen years old - until I turn twenty, plus all my being of older ages. Yeah.
I never thought i'd say this,
but today, just today,
I can't wait for the rest of my life.
Friday, May 15, 2009
` because i feel like it today
I typed this like million-word essay. Then I realised I wasn't going to post it. To make myself feel better, I'm posting something up, and this' it :)
Oh yeah Laura I think you're right. The fur turns white as they age.
Look at Mac then and now. =_=
things we used to pride ourselves in. heh.
Mid-teen crisis
great things come in small packages, but this is hardly small! :)
When I was thinner AND younger :) :) :)
Oh yeah Laura I think you're right. The fur turns white as they age.Look at Mac then and now. =_=
things we used to pride ourselves in. heh.Mid-teen crisis
great things come in small packages, but this is hardly small! :)When I was thinner AND younger :) :) :)
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
` this feeling - confidence
They keep saying "enjoy the three years" as if it has the same effect as "enjoy your day".
:)
"your nails are so pretty"
hahaha.
:)
"your nails are so pretty"
hahaha.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
` chair lift charlie rich
I am amazed.
The perplexities of my weight gain is getting to me. Then again, I have become this girl who grabs a two liter juice bottle and drinks right out of it (but it's filled with barlie. Sugar-sweet barlie, according to L), brings it to her room, and finishes it. I am the girl who fits comfortably into the baggy clothes, ties up all her hair in a perfected neat bun with her fringe pinned up. I wear my thick purple-framed glasses as if it betters my vision (which in fact, I believe brought on the problems I have with my eyes now. Damn you centrepoint optician). I am the girl who enjoys typing in parentheses, the girl who used to love to blog (i'm reconsidering this old flame), the girl who can live on music, and music alone. I am the girl who just yelled and said "WHY DIDN'T ANYONE CALL ME TO KAFREAKING INFORM ME? WHY WAS AN EMAIL ALL I GOT? AND I HATE IT THAT I HAVE TO MISS SUCH AN AWESOME EVENT. I REALLY WANT TO BE THERE". I am the girl who just called Kow to tell him that he was going to be my only friend (hahahahahahaha. Can you imagine?). I am the girl who spent my morning cracking up with Ian, telling him a story i've been hiding for ten years (not hiding, just upset about), then we ended up with him attempting to help me "summarize" some "four-kafreaking-hundred" survey forms, and now i'm absolutely cock-eyed, it's not even funny anymore. Time and time again, I love wondering who I am. And today, that is who I am. The girl in the big shirt, thick geeky glasses, bunned hair, doing that survey summary. I BETTER GET PAID. And today, I love you this much more. Ah... Today, "kafreaking" is my word. MY WORD. You don't have to get me. Not today, not ever, and i'll still be me. Yay! I think this is what the holiday's doing to me.
Oh and Grey's Anatomy. FTW people, FTW! It's becoming predictable (maybe because I watch it back to back). Then again right, Season 1 and 2 was about them saving people, always knowing what the problem is, prescribing the right treatment and what not, and season 3 was all about mistakes, making wrong moves and "life is not so beautiful anymore". Okay. McDreamy, McSteamy, McVet all in one McStory. Now that, is something. I will start Season 4 soon :)
Ps. Josh or Ellie, I think you missed out the last episode of season 3. And FYI, season 3's episode 13 and 14 are terbalik. And Season 4's episode five has no sound. This is very vital information, please get it fixed please, thank you. Okay. I'm a freak, right. Shit. K bye. Oh yeah, I already started Season 4. Please don't forget to continue downloading season 5. Thank you friends! :)
Now scoot. :)
The perplexities of my weight gain is getting to me. Then again, I have become this girl who grabs a two liter juice bottle and drinks right out of it (but it's filled with barlie. Sugar-sweet barlie, according to L), brings it to her room, and finishes it. I am the girl who fits comfortably into the baggy clothes, ties up all her hair in a perfected neat bun with her fringe pinned up. I wear my thick purple-framed glasses as if it betters my vision (which in fact, I believe brought on the problems I have with my eyes now. Damn you centrepoint optician). I am the girl who enjoys typing in parentheses, the girl who used to love to blog (i'm reconsidering this old flame), the girl who can live on music, and music alone. I am the girl who just yelled and said "WHY DIDN'T ANYONE CALL ME TO KAFREAKING INFORM ME? WHY WAS AN EMAIL ALL I GOT? AND I HATE IT THAT I HAVE TO MISS SUCH AN AWESOME EVENT. I REALLY WANT TO BE THERE". I am the girl who just called Kow to tell him that he was going to be my only friend (hahahahahahaha. Can you imagine?). I am the girl who spent my morning cracking up with Ian, telling him a story i've been hiding for ten years (not hiding, just upset about), then we ended up with him attempting to help me "summarize" some "four-kafreaking-hundred" survey forms, and now i'm absolutely cock-eyed, it's not even funny anymore. Time and time again, I love wondering who I am. And today, that is who I am. The girl in the big shirt, thick geeky glasses, bunned hair, doing that survey summary. I BETTER GET PAID. And today, I love you this much more. Ah... Today, "kafreaking" is my word. MY WORD. You don't have to get me. Not today, not ever, and i'll still be me. Yay! I think this is what the holiday's doing to me.
Oh and Grey's Anatomy. FTW people, FTW! It's becoming predictable (maybe because I watch it back to back). Then again right, Season 1 and 2 was about them saving people, always knowing what the problem is, prescribing the right treatment and what not, and season 3 was all about mistakes, making wrong moves and "life is not so beautiful anymore". Okay. McDreamy, McSteamy, McVet all in one McStory. Now that, is something. I will start Season 4 soon :)
Ps. Josh or Ellie, I think you missed out the last episode of season 3. And FYI, season 3's episode 13 and 14 are terbalik. And Season 4's episode five has no sound. This is very vital information, please get it fixed please, thank you. Okay. I'm a freak, right. Shit. K bye. Oh yeah, I already started Season 4. Please don't forget to continue downloading season 5. Thank you friends! :)
Now scoot. :)
Saturday, March 28, 2009
` EAT YOUR HEARTS OUT
Excuse me while I secretly eat my own heart out.
14/15
Doggone it.
You didn't waste my staying up till 3am time.
14/15
Doggone it.
You didn't waste my staying up till 3am time.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
` in the ABC of growing up
There's been this constant urging in me to blog (=_=), these past few days. But I've been downright indolent and living the life of a slothful little kid (or in Marc's words, slob. Why you always so mean to me? meh!). Okay so maybe little kid doesn't exactly (uhm) depict my situation, because on top of all that sloth, i've been getting used to not exercising, and (well) eating slightly bigger portions (?). Fine I admit it. I eat before I go to class, I eat in between classes, and I come home and eat after class. WHY MUST I HAVE BREAKS IN BETWEEN CLASSES? Dammit. You see, if I don't have breaks, i'd pretty much be running down 'em corridoors, getting from one class to the other, but then, no, there HAS to be breaks. Darn it. Fat cheeks much? So much for my Lenten sacrifice. Think I should follow after the Michael. *Le sigh.
Must be the time of the month. :)
Fair enough *in English accent*. haha.
Now, something had me garner all my energy to come online to blog. Well, nothing good. It's just that there's this one dimwit in my class (not mentioning which class, though) who has been constantly pissing me off. Thank goodness I see the dimwit only once a week. Honestly, I try my level best to refrain from judging people based on the gestures they exhibit, or the impression they seem to leave you with, but this NINCOMPOOP (sucker that's in the dictionary ok) is so irritating, I just gave him the dagger eyes today *pats self on the back. Let me elaborate further to hasten the pace of this
This person, lets name him Watermelon (explain later), looks like one. He's far from charming, his 'sense of humour' only proves the saying "It is better to keep quiet and have people think you stupid, than to talk and confirm it", by Mark Twain right. Genius. Genius. Okay. I will not go into the gritty obvious details on how he makes me want to regurgitate each time he attempts to verbalize anything, at all. I don't judge him, based on how he looks, but based on the way he shows little (if not none) respect to our lecturer. Wait wait. He claimed that he was Wentworth Miller's twin brother (yikes man. Geli). No offense, but boy, please. I'm not perfect, neither are you. I'm not drop dead gorgeous, neither are you.
You, my dearest moron, need to cut your seriously imbecilic comments, or send yourself to oblivion. Why must we all pay for what you do? Oh and did I mention he wears Crocs? Not that I hate Crocs or have anything against them, but he's wearing the flip flop ones. In the Watermelon colour I USED TO LIKE BACK WHEN I WAS 15. Thankfully, when I was about to get that pair of pants in that exact colour, my dad said no, cos apparently I'd look like a Watermelon trying to strut into the waters of Lethe. Yeah I'm just dramatic about Lethe. Now that I see him in the flip flop crocs in that colour, I thank my dad for showing me the light. Ugh. To think that I wanted a pair of those when Crocs first launched it *smacks self.
I just need to take his ego down. One day. No wait. Why do I even bother? It's nearly the end of the semester, I'll be off and skipping the week prior to my finals, yes. I'll bottle up my reaction so that nobody gets hurt. That means you, Mr. Watermelon crocs. *evil eye stare. I'm tormented and momentarily scarred. =_= No, i'm not exaggerating, and I can name people who share similar sentiments as me. If I could speak Finnish, I would totally use that last line of the movie "Hi, this is my friend. He's a very famous escort" on him. I used escort instead of the P word, cos he's a guy, but it's a pity that no one would believe me, after looking at him. Oh yeah. That's from Confessions of a Shopaholic, btw. Shucks I can be sucha grouch, can't I? Like they say, "ain't no fury like a woman's scorn". Meh! I'm super happy now. *claps hands.
I can be as cruel as you,
fighting fire with firewood.
`Bloc Party
About the movie Confessions of a Shopaholic, it was definitely better than I expected. Prior to the preview, I had read plenty of not-so-nice reviews, so I had readjusted my expectations. No doubt it was just a typical chick flick movie, I think the ending was an ending. You know how movies hardly have proper endings nowadays? Well, this one more or less had one. The entire movie was rather predictable, though. Marc said I could be a director. o.0 Why you must kacau me? Oh and yes, it was some preview. I didn't know that the movie wasn't really out yet. Anyway, free movie and chick flick with a happy ending pretty much leaves us all satisfied. :) Least we girls know that we're not that much of a shopaholic, right? Very much to the dismay and contradicting opinions of Marc, Mike and Josh. Oh well *peace
"You sold EVERYTHING and you kept THIS?"haha. WHAT A DRESS =_=
It was funny while it lasted and the Boys found it in them to crack up too.
Picture: Google
AND, WHAT is with Gossip Girls? First Dan Humphrey sleeps with the too-innocent-for-her-own-good Ms Carr, and now what? =_= Come on! Give the Bass a chance! "Chuck and Blair" sounds good, no? :)
Anyway, here's some really outdated pictures that I can't help, but feel the need to post. Well Josh, you'll eventually read this (or maybe not).
Thank you for being my friend.
Thank you for being my punching bag.
Thank you for being a listening ear when it mattered.
Thank you for our non-existent sampan moments!
Thank you for your non-related gossiping with us sessions.
Thank you for being my driver.
Thank you for (the list goes on).
You know la you're a good friend.
Sometimes I can't stand you, but yeah.
We're still friends.
On top of it all,
THANKS FOR BREAKING MY CAMERA in AUSTRALIA :D
and still being my friend,
Even though I secretly plotted to assassinate you right after. =_=v
*shrugs.
Another reason why we're still friends :)
You succumb to our bedazzling craze (not like you have a choice!)
Happy Birthday Munkey! It's about time :)
Another reason why we're still friends :)You succumb to our bedazzling craze (not like you have a choice!)
Happy Birthday Munkey! It's about time :)
haha. Picture of the night :)
Shawn trying to pan-cute in my glasses LOL :)
On a random note, far from Muhibah. Oh well.Why am I so lala?
I have so many pictures to post and i'm so lazy. Till the next time :)
Lovelies!
He said
"The sunset must not find you still angry."
So, I let go :) with Joy
Monday, March 16, 2009
` dream catch me
This is going to be one extensive post, if I pull through, and not decide to (uh) get lazy half way. I've been filled with random thoughts lately.
haha. I just typed an entire paragraph about how Britney's Womanizer is better than Lily Allen's (yuck) and all, then I re-read it and I felt like it was written by a ten year old. Hence, this short paragraph. Britney's Womanizer is the bomb, period.
Next up?
I recently read about Ryanair (Armstrong & Kotler, 2009), and truth be told, this was my first time hearing about them. Tell me i'm behind the times, and i'm still going to say this. I read about them in a marketing book and you'll bet your last dollar that I was pretty damn impressed (and secretly telling myself that one day, i'll try Ryanair, just for the fun of it. WHY NOT, Right?). They're something like AirAsia, in terms of low fares, and they charge passengers for pretty much everything else - from baggage, to tit bits on the plane, to even ads on the back of the seat. They charge you for virtually everything, EXCEPT the seat. So you (uh) fly for free (?).
Dyu know, that they made $61 mil in sales of all those tiny amenities (peanuts on board, drinks and all) on board? In my head, I was raving about them, cos it only made sense that I wouldn't eat peanuts on board, won't need to buy beverages and all these stuff. So if I were a passenger, all I would have to pay was for my seat and (well) my baggage check-in. If you don't wanna check-in bag then you pandai-pandai save $3.50 okay? I need my stuff. =_- I mean seriously, if you don't want (choose) to spend on anything you don't want, then don't.
If you wanna pay through your nose for crazy-ass hot stewardess', please pay for Singapore airlines, cos i'd be one to tell you that they're really gorgeous (most of them, at least - but the guys are na-ah!) and their service really deserve (prolly more) compliments (than they reel in). They leave you feeling contented about the flight. No, seriously. If I had unlimited $$$ and places to go, i'd vouch for SIA, without second thoughts.
Now, back to Ryanair. I'm lazy to talk about them already. Long story short, in marketing, you understand the importance of having good PR with your customers and you serve your customers in hope that you'll obtain their life-time loyalty. So I decided to consult my best friend, who's always there for me, and answers (nearly) all my questions - Google. To my horror (yes lah. I have to drama abit, right?), I found some of the following.
` tales & memories
haha. I just typed an entire paragraph about how Britney's Womanizer is better than Lily Allen's (yuck) and all, then I re-read it and I felt like it was written by a ten year old. Hence, this short paragraph. Britney's Womanizer is the bomb, period.
Next up?
I recently read about Ryanair (Armstrong & Kotler, 2009), and truth be told, this was my first time hearing about them. Tell me i'm behind the times, and i'm still going to say this. I read about them in a marketing book and you'll bet your last dollar that I was pretty damn impressed (and secretly telling myself that one day, i'll try Ryanair, just for the fun of it. WHY NOT, Right?). They're something like AirAsia, in terms of low fares, and they charge passengers for pretty much everything else - from baggage, to tit bits on the plane, to even ads on the back of the seat. They charge you for virtually everything, EXCEPT the seat. So you (uh) fly for free (?).
Dyu know, that they made $61 mil in sales of all those tiny amenities (peanuts on board, drinks and all) on board? In my head, I was raving about them, cos it only made sense that I wouldn't eat peanuts on board, won't need to buy beverages and all these stuff. So if I were a passenger, all I would have to pay was for my seat and (well) my baggage check-in. If you don't wanna check-in bag then you pandai-pandai save $3.50 okay? I need my stuff. =_- I mean seriously, if you don't want (choose) to spend on anything you don't want, then don't.
If you wanna pay through your nose for crazy-ass hot stewardess', please pay for Singapore airlines, cos i'd be one to tell you that they're really gorgeous (most of them, at least - but the guys are na-ah!) and their service really deserve (prolly more) compliments (than they reel in). They leave you feeling contented about the flight. No, seriously. If I had unlimited $$$ and places to go, i'd vouch for SIA, without second thoughts.
Now, back to Ryanair. I'm lazy to talk about them already. Long story short, in marketing, you understand the importance of having good PR with your customers and you serve your customers in hope that you'll obtain their life-time loyalty. So I decided to consult my best friend, who's always there for me, and answers (nearly) all my questions - Google. To my horror (yes lah. I have to drama abit, right?), I found some of the following.
Screen shot of this page
It says "Put Fun Back into Flying"Thinks again*
For crying out loud! I DON'T WANNA FLY NAKED, AND I DON'T WANNA FLY WITH NAKED PEOPLE. I Don't wanna fly Ryanair already. =_= Not a wonder why I never heard of them, prior to this. *shudders. I'm not sure what that picture was supposed to depict, and I wasn't about to waste more time checking out for explanations that should have been on that same page, if it were really to rave about. Oh, on top of that, I found another link that had officials of Ryanair labeling bloggers as 'lunatic' and 'idiotic'. Please refer to this where the officials make their completely inhospitable statement, triggered by this blog post. Weaather the blog post was constructive or pure gibberish, I don't believe that Ryanair couldn't attempt a better resolution. Suddenly got really lazy to elaborate and all.
Okay. I'm so lazy to blog already. Looks like everything else can come on another day (?). Oh. On a random note: -
dad, I
Dad I think I lost my money. Can you please check in the car? If it's there, you can have it, if it's not, uh, I think I got robbed?
*calls me back two minutes later
Mom said you gave her the money just now?
Oh =_= Well, looks like no money for you. Bye :)
For crying out loud! I DON'T WANNA FLY NAKED, AND I DON'T WANNA FLY WITH NAKED PEOPLE. I Don't wanna fly Ryanair already. =_= Not a wonder why I never heard of them, prior to this. *shudders. I'm not sure what that picture was supposed to depict, and I wasn't about to waste more time checking out for explanations that should have been on that same page, if it were really to rave about. Oh, on top of that, I found another link that had officials of Ryanair labeling bloggers as 'lunatic' and 'idiotic'. Please refer to this where the officials make their completely inhospitable statement, triggered by this blog post. Weaather the blog post was constructive or pure gibberish, I don't believe that Ryanair couldn't attempt a better resolution. Suddenly got really lazy to elaborate and all.
yeap yeap :)
Okay. I'm so lazy to blog already. Looks like everything else can come on another day (?). Oh. On a random note: -
dad, I
Dad I think I lost my money. Can you please check in the car? If it's there, you can have it, if it's not, uh, I think I got robbed?
*calls me back two minutes later
Mom said you gave her the money just now?
Oh =_= Well, looks like no money for you. Bye :)
` tales & memories
Friday, March 13, 2009
` part of your world
Yesterday, I (finally) handed up my assignment, and truth be told, I couldn't tell which emotion was stronger - happy or sleepy. I was awake for more than 24 hours, trying to (well ...) minimize plagiarism, which seemed (bloody. no bull.) rampant in that paper. Long story short, I saw this guy after classes and this was a snippet of our conversation
him, me
oh did you use the plagiarism checker to check your paper? oh. There's such a thing? Yeah I found out yesterday night and nearly our entire paper was plagiarized. @#$%^ really? Then how? Oh. So late already... What to do? Never mind only la.
*in my head* @#$%^&* I SLEPT AT 7AM TO AVOID THAT @#$%^%&*
Owhkayyyyy. So what's the website? www.dustball.com Awesome. Oh look. I gotta go ad. Well, bye! :) :)
No seriously, I mean, you know, 15 marks, and you just say don't care? Nvm. None of my businness. Lol. =_= Seriouslyyy. After a therapeutic long conversation on the phone with the blacks, (it was ten and well) I went straight to bed, refusing to even touch my computer. Previously, I spent more than 20 (I KID YOU NOT) consecutive hours on the computer trying to remedy the entire project. Honestly, I was quite contented with the end product. Last nights sleep couldn't have been better. Anyway, I woke up this morning, bright and early, to watch Narnia. *melts* So nice. :) I finally found time. Then as I was relaxing, suddenly a thought came to my mind. "Go check your assignment for plagiarism!" Eh. Not kiasu okay, just you know, make sure la. Yeah I know, I handed it up already, so nothing I can do, right? And the thing was pretty efficient, I would say. I'll explain after the pictures.
If your work is alright, with citation and stuff, it's all "OK".
.
.
.
Otherwise,
*cheng cheng cheng*
:(
that was the last part of my assignment.
7000 words OKAY.
I got lazy and maybe I didn't paraphrase as well as the beginning part.
Whaddya want? !@##$%^&* FIVE AM ALREADY OKAY.
SEVEN ONLY I SLEPT.
hahaha.
If your work is alright, with citation and stuff, it's all "OK"..
.
.
Otherwise,
*cheng cheng cheng*
:(that was the last part of my assignment.
7000 words OKAY.
I got lazy and maybe I didn't paraphrase as well as the beginning part.
Whaddya want? !@##$%^&* FIVE AM ALREADY OKAY.
SEVEN ONLY I SLEPT.
hahaha.
Anyway, I'm not sure if the site's reliable or not, but the Plagiarism Checker is powered by Google and it searches the Internet for "phrase matches" after you 'copy' and 'paste' your work in the space given. Then again, I wonder if it really is that effective, for all you know, there would've been plagiarized work, taken from physical books (?). Wonder if the checker is able to detect those too. Oh well. The weekend's here (yay! Claps hands).
OMGSH REPLACEMENT TMR MORNING AT EIGHT AM. HELL IT'S A SATURDAY LA-HOR :) Awh. No one can scold me for being so Chinese and using "La-horrrr". haha. BALI BOMBER!
Besides that, I recently found a way to get youtube videos for my iPod (double yay!). Yeah yeah, most of you would've prolly been doing that over the last five (or more) years, but well, I just stumbled upon this site that made it so so so so simple (really. You can't go wrong). There's this website called KeepVid and all you need to do is put the URL of the video you want, and choose to download it as High Quality (mp4) and you don't need converters or long hours anymore. Which donkey said it was a tiresome process? :(
Oh and i've been downloading videos and watching them in my iPod. Any nice recommendations? :)OMGSH REPLACEMENT TMR MORNING AT EIGHT AM. HELL IT'S A SATURDAY LA-HOR :) Awh. No one can scold me for being so Chinese and using "La-horrrr". haha. BALI BOMBER!
:)
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