<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418</id><updated>2011-11-20T10:18:57.541+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ERTI HIDUP - the insanity of my life</title><subtitle type='html'>Angin kau membawa bahteraku kemana mahumu... 
... I can only bend with the wind, who will be there for me? Alas, I don't expect any. Does it mean insanity is my only saviour?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>289</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-5855914805124674992</id><published>2011-02-16T15:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T13:32:51.447+08:00</updated><title type='text'>year 2011</title><content type='html'>2011 ... new year, old fear ... that I will never get a best friend. Not that I don't have anybody in mind, have a few that I like and feel comfortable with. But it takes two to build a best friend relationship. Just not my luck ..... as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting older, in more ways than the age. No matter how young one feels, things are never the same as time goes by. Memories, bodily functions, these things will not function in good condition forever. Life is predestined to end in death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to give up ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-5855914805124674992?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5855914805124674992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5855914805124674992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2011/02/year-2011.html' title='year 2011'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4489196865444922157</id><published>2010-08-05T09:50:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T09:58:00.360+08:00</updated><title type='text'>blog</title><content type='html'>Perhaps it is just as well that I don't have access to my PC as often nowadays. Maybe it is time I stop blogging. Who reads anyway? Not the friends that I treasure, friends that I want to share, knowing about their lives and telling about mine. Why should they bother about my problems? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do care about theirs if any ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should finally do what I have been telling myself to do ... keep quiet, like I used to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time to end my blogging, and be the nobody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erti hidup .... the insanity of my life ......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4489196865444922157?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4489196865444922157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4489196865444922157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog.html' title='blog'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-5775762837999145575</id><published>2010-07-29T12:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T12:30:32.787+08:00</updated><title type='text'>August 1st</title><content type='html'>Suhaili's birthday is coming, wondering if I should wish her. I can drop a message on her facebook. Probably she will not even acknowledge my message, as often she had chosen to ignore messages that I sent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She could have been my best friend ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-5775762837999145575?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5775762837999145575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5775762837999145575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/07/august-1st.html' title='August 1st'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1676794765253349820</id><published>2010-06-30T11:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T11:17:45.724+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cry with me,  not for me.</title><content type='html'>Don't dwell on the sadness, or you will miss the happy stuff. Life may seem short, but don't make it shorter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I should die, I will not want those I care and love to be sad. I want them to remember the happy time we shared. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't cry for me when I am gone, you should cry with me when I am still around, to share time with me, and keep me company when I am lonely. Smile with me, laugh with me. When I am gone, I will not hear your crying. I can't comfort you, which I very much will want to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to share time with you while I still can. Will you let me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1676794765253349820?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1676794765253349820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1676794765253349820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/06/cry-with-me-not-for-me.html' title='Cry with me,  not for me.'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-2963698001588149001</id><published>2010-06-24T15:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T15:10:16.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'>work or dream ...</title><content type='html'>Last week I saw Marina Bay Sand as I was going to Lau Pau Sat. MBS looks awesome, a good place to work, before I retire. But of course it will be just a wish, a dream. Not likely to happen as I doubt I can get a new job that is comfortable for a living to support myself and my family at my age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had enjoyed working in the hotel line, I enjoyed F&amp;B too. I wish I had chosen it again when I came back from Phuket. I just grab the first job I could. I don't know, whether it is good or bad choice, there is no turning back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I can only dream on ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-2963698001588149001?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2963698001588149001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2963698001588149001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/06/work-or-dream.html' title='work or dream ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4341131847268462060</id><published>2010-06-22T09:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T09:40:32.113+08:00</updated><title type='text'>nice guy is not for keeping</title><content type='html'>It is not worth being a nice guy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, a new colleague said I was a nice guy. Again another person has said that. So what?!! What is the point of being a nice guy if one is alone and feeling lonely? I don't get invite to join them when they relax and having their meals. Or when they have social outing. I am only good for being there to help them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A nice guy is someone who one goes to when the usual friend is not there to help. A nice guy is not someone one will have when one wants to have fun. Nice to have, but not for keeping!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curse of being a nice guy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4341131847268462060?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4341131847268462060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4341131847268462060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/06/nice-guy-is-not-for-keeping.html' title='nice guy is not for keeping'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-2514186802960354806</id><published>2010-06-17T11:33:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T11:39:38.164+08:00</updated><title type='text'>D for ...</title><content type='html'>D-Day! 17th June. Wishing her, Happiness always!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-2514186802960354806?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2514186802960354806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2514186802960354806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/06/d-for.html' title='D for ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-3911090679481311945</id><published>2010-06-15T09:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T10:05:29.080+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family plus friends equal ...</title><content type='html'>We need family, but we need friends too ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it is often said that family matters, family is more important than friends. Friends may not turn out to be real friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But human needs interaction, from more than his own family. The world we live in open up our environment that does not merely surround the family alone. The human feeling needs more than the family to make a person complete. The social circle is also part of the person's life. It comes with problems often, just like family, but it is what living is all about. Only fairyland is happy ever after. Sometimes haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can have a happy family, but still not a happy heart. Family and friends makes living complete. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trust me, I know, for I am lagging in friends, close friends .... and I don't feel complete. Inside me, I feel sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart longs for friend ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-3911090679481311945?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3911090679481311945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3911090679481311945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/06/family-plus-friends-equal.html' title='Family plus friends equal ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-5319134531691200140</id><published>2010-06-13T16:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T16:24:33.127+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Didy on 17th</title><content type='html'>Her birthday! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I can spend her birthday with her ... never was able to, and unlikely to ... haiz ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-5319134531691200140?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5319134531691200140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5319134531691200140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/06/didy-on-17th.html' title='Didy on 17th'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1827173060282476353</id><published>2010-06-13T16:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T16:21:35.839+08:00</updated><title type='text'>tweet tweet</title><content type='html'>Now another link to keep in touch with Didy. She has allowed me to follow her on twitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my heart I have many friends, but in reality, I have none. I can only be someone looking from a distance. I know I can't spend time with any of them, to get update on them. Like a friend would when they get to meet up. Me, my only link with them is what I can get online. That is why having link with them online is important to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be their real friend. I want a real friend. In this society, it is hard ... people dont believe friendship can exist between a male and female, especailly when one is married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality sucks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1827173060282476353?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1827173060282476353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1827173060282476353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/06/tweet-tweet.html' title='tweet tweet'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-6807869127871781348</id><published>2010-06-09T04:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T04:33:22.834+08:00</updated><title type='text'>zana</title><content type='html'>wishing Zana a wonderful birthday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-6807869127871781348?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/6807869127871781348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/6807869127871781348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/06/zana.html' title='zana'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1991739385535673350</id><published>2010-05-18T13:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T13:43:45.439+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my ex shiftmate</title><content type='html'>I saw Samsidar yesterday, she is back to operation work. She is still limping. I feel sad for her. So young and this had to happen to her. One serious accidents can change one's life. May she heal soonest. If only the doctor had did something earliest, maybe she would have recovered by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss helping her. Now that we are not shiftmate any longer, I will not get to see her that often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss her friendship ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1991739385535673350?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1991739385535673350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1991739385535673350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-ex-shiftmate.html' title='my ex shiftmate'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-2307318223967761770</id><published>2010-05-07T16:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T16:41:40.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'>video taking</title><content type='html'>It has been a while since I last used my videocam. I want to take more video, specially performances. I miss recording performance videos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Used to take photos, those film type. Especially dance performances. I don't have any slr camera, but this camera I am using is good enough I suppose. I want to take photos too. Performance shooting. With my camera and videocam, I will be happy snapping away. But lately got no event for me to take. I have lose touched with the dance group. No dance event outside too. Those that I can attend to anyway. Haiz ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss doing these ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want my camera and videocam to die .... out of silent!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-2307318223967761770?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2307318223967761770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2307318223967761770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/05/video-taking.html' title='video taking'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-7858043117162026136</id><published>2010-05-04T14:24:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T15:26:38.625+08:00</updated><title type='text'>waiting for a friend</title><content type='html'>A little disappointed today, there was time, but I didn't get the chance as someone else wanted her time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to hear about her trip. But I will listen to anything she want to chat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I can't expect her to devote her time for me, I don't want her to. She has other friends. I have to wait. Maybe I get another opportunity, maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will wait ... because I am her friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will wait ... for anyone I consider my friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-7858043117162026136?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7858043117162026136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7858043117162026136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/05/waiting-for-friend.html' title='waiting for a friend'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8087803929578193246</id><published>2010-04-15T16:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T16:18:30.584+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ex-colleagues</title><content type='html'>Nordiana has left, now Farah. I will miss them ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ex-colleagues tend to disappear from my life. They have formed part of the jigsaw puzzle to my life story. Every time I lost a puzzle piece, there is a gap in my story. I feel sad ... I can only wish them happiness .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many missing parts can make a big hole ......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8087803929578193246?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8087803929578193246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8087803929578193246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/04/ex-colleagues.html' title='ex-colleagues'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1167959361581465231</id><published>2010-04-13T10:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T11:01:53.818+08:00</updated><title type='text'>new page</title><content type='html'>And so, as my daughter goes into poly, I have come into a new page in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will be changes, there will be new timing and places that I will have to adjust to. The last few weeks, Woodland interchange has been constant rendezvous. I had been there yesterday and this morning, and I expect more haha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than these, nothing else has changed much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1167959361581465231?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1167959361581465231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1167959361581465231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/04/new-page.html' title='new page'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-576330549967120065</id><published>2010-04-08T20:47:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T20:50:47.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sharing</title><content type='html'>Avocado gave me access to her blog. really appreciate that. The best thing a friend can do is sharing her life with you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if only she will update more often haha ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-576330549967120065?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/576330549967120065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/576330549967120065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/04/sharing.html' title='sharing'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1715464177392629760</id><published>2010-03-26T19:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T19:21:31.081+08:00</updated><title type='text'>face the book</title><content type='html'>I had intended to make the account private with only special friends, so I could check for updates on them. But it is not to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suhaili and Samsidar were not in the list anyway ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have opened up the account, letting those who wanted to add me to do so. It is now like my first account. I suppose even without my head showing, I can't hide in facebook.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1715464177392629760?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1715464177392629760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1715464177392629760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/03/face-book.html' title='face the book'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8423463988601678674</id><published>2010-03-18T22:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T22:53:53.216+08:00</updated><title type='text'>another Blackcat's day ...</title><content type='html'>Blackcat13 is celebrating her birthday today, hope she has a great day ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday dear ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8423463988601678674?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8423463988601678674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8423463988601678674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/03/another-blackcats-day.html' title='another Blackcat&apos;s day ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-6103938185703572984</id><published>2010-03-06T12:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T12:43:41.309+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Samsidar</title><content type='html'>Samsidar's birthday is today, may all her wishes come true. It has been a while since I last met her, I do hope her injury will heal completely soonest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to only able to wish my special friends online and sms. I do wish I can celebrate with them, but ... Haiz, I don't have the luck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I hope I can get to see Samsidar today to wish her in person ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-6103938185703572984?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/6103938185703572984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/6103938185703572984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/03/samsidar.html' title='Samsidar'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1274059361472241472</id><published>2010-03-02T19:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T19:31:51.076+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing a colleague ...</title><content type='html'>Losing a colleague, who was and always be a special friend to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't get to speak much, nor meetup since our works hardly see us working together. Still, I will miss her .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Nordiana, may your future be of happiness and everything you need ..... take care ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1274059361472241472?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1274059361472241472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1274059361472241472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/03/losing-colleague.html' title='Losing a colleague ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-495344891551159613</id><published>2010-02-11T10:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T10:36:41.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>CNY Valentines' or Valentines' CNY day</title><content type='html'>Two special occasions sharing one day does not make it special ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what will you wish your loved one first? In any case it is not important I suppose haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-495344891551159613?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/495344891551159613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/495344891551159613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/02/cny-valentines-or-valentines-cny-day.html' title='CNY Valentines&apos; or Valentines&apos; CNY day'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-530226881242796866</id><published>2010-02-07T17:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T17:10:54.344+08:00</updated><title type='text'>midnight to sick</title><content type='html'>Down, as expected, after doing several days of midnight shifts ..... I am sick .... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CNY is coming, the wifey wanted some new household appliances, she got it. Lucky for me, I had managed to secure some cash from the sale of one of my insurances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that my dancing rehearsal is over, I have to find the urge to exercise on my own .... that is not going to be easy haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-530226881242796866?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/530226881242796866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/530226881242796866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/02/midnight-to-sick.html' title='midnight to sick'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-5072116563997732292</id><published>2010-02-04T13:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T14:07:34.502+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You got a friend ...</title><content type='html'>She probably saw my face now, but I doubt it will make any difference. I fear that I have lost my chance of being her best friend, even if it is only online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real world? Having a real whole is as distance as the Sun, though the Sun will likely to meet the Earth one day, long before I will ever find a best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People speak about losing friends, as fast as they gain new one. Best friends may be lasting for some, and not for some. I have never really gain one, so maybe that is a good sign? I was willing to go through the heartache of having a best friend, if in the end, we still remain best friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But stay not the thought ... it is only a dream far away. Life is not fair ... I don't expect it to be so ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you're down and troubled &lt;br /&gt;And you need a helping hand ......"&lt;br /&gt;so goes the lyrics by James Taylor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will still be your friend .....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-5072116563997732292?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5072116563997732292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5072116563997732292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/02/you-got-friend.html' title='You got a friend ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1430237862318510623</id><published>2010-02-02T18:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T18:04:22.479+08:00</updated><title type='text'>shiftmate ... or not</title><content type='html'>Samsidar will be getting back to work, glad she is getting better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to lose my shiftmate, again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1430237862318510623?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1430237862318510623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1430237862318510623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/02/shiftmate-or-not.html' title='shiftmate ... or not'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4244546917123586829</id><published>2010-01-23T09:48:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T09:51:17.054+08:00</updated><title type='text'>birthday dura</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Dura birthday, Happy Birthday Dura!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4244546917123586829?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4244546917123586829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4244546917123586829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/01/birthday-dura.html' title='birthday dura'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-7590280850013496745</id><published>2010-01-18T10:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T10:57:44.349+08:00</updated><title type='text'>head, shoulder, knee and toe</title><content type='html'>Body is showing wear and tear ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, one of the knee reacted to my constant dancing routine. I thought it would fail me. But felt the sharp piercing pain only 3 times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, maybe there goes my plan of going for dance classes to get some exercise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet .... I really want to go for the classes .....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-7590280850013496745?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7590280850013496745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7590280850013496745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/01/head-shoulder-knee-and-toe.html' title='head, shoulder, knee and toe'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1810900877853275773</id><published>2010-01-15T11:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T11:42:26.375+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good news!</title><content type='html'>Yes, good news that she has got nice result in her "O", and to wait which poly she can get in ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another good news, the second one got exemption from mother tongue. At least she will be less stress now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1810900877853275773?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1810900877853275773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1810900877853275773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/01/good-news.html' title='Good news!'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-7612672826435158306</id><published>2010-01-03T13:01:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T13:54:10.665+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding bell for Farhana</title><content type='html'>My first posting for 2010 ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not a very good start to the new year for me. Without money, I can't celebrate. I never believe in money, but not having money can restrict what one wants to do. Haiz ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, went to my ex-shiftmate wedding, glad I could make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, I went alone and being alone. Yes, my other colleagues were there, but I couldn't sit at the same table as there wasn't any space. Found two of them at a table, but they had finished eating by the time I got my food, they went off to the other table, so I ended up alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, most important was the reason for being there at Farhana's wedding. She was the reason I went. I wouldn't want to miss it for the world. Even when my wife had asked me to skip it. Even if I could be there for only 5mins, I would still go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was so lovely :) Watching her from a distance, I felt tears, like a father would seeing his daughter got married. Hmmm, there is two more "daughters" I will like to see when they marry too. I wonder if I will be around still when it is time. Will I get an invitation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or will they forget me by then ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-7612672826435158306?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7612672826435158306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7612672826435158306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2010/01/wedding-bell-for-farhana.html' title='Wedding bell for Farhana'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-2761541222328197156</id><published>2009-12-28T23:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T23:19:07.561+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas without Christmas</title><content type='html'>I am a Christian, yet I have no Christmas celebration. With work taking most of my Christmas, I don't even celebrate with my family. I was hoping it would be a good Christmas at work, but, my colleagues did't wish me. Only Adik remembered. I guess I should be satisfy with that. One is better than none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wish I have a Christmas party ... celebration with friends ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But of course, how do one celebrate when one has no close friend? I guess this is a Christmas joke to me, instead of a gift ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-2761541222328197156?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2761541222328197156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2761541222328197156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-without-christmas.html' title='Christmas without Christmas'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8446729573133336413</id><published>2009-12-27T19:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T19:49:19.557+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alone at the ...</title><content type='html'>Once again, I was alone. It wasn't often I got to get an invite, but often I ended up being at the place alone.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often decline to go unless the person means something, someone I take as a friend. As usual, people arranged to go without including me in their plans. I guess I should be used to it, but somehow I don't. Especially since I would like very much to be there together with them. At least one of them. She knew I was going too. If only I could be included in their arrangement. I would like to have some time outside of work to spend time together with her. In the end, when I reached there, she had left. I was there alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For several years, I didn't have any invitation. At least now I have a few. But ... I don't like to be at a wedding or engagement alone. Maybe I am  better off not being invited .....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8446729573133336413?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8446729573133336413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8446729573133336413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/12/alone-at.html' title='Alone at the ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-6495191678101996039</id><published>2009-12-22T23:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T23:41:29.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas ...</title><content type='html'>Watching "This Christmas" on cable ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't feel christmas for a few years now, though it is still a special time of the year. I still make sure that the family get their christmas presents. Yet ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing the christmas songs in the movie, well, it was a nice feeling ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Hang all the mistletoe&lt;br /&gt;Im gonna get to know you better, yeah&lt;br /&gt;This christmas&lt;br /&gt;And as we trim the tree&lt;br /&gt;How much fun its gonna be together, yeah ha&lt;br /&gt;This christmas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fireside is blazing bright&lt;br /&gt;Were caroling through the night&lt;br /&gt;And this christmas, will be yeah&lt;br /&gt;A very special christmas, for me yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Presents and cards are here&lt;br /&gt;My world is filled with cheer and you, ohh yeah&lt;br /&gt;This christmas&lt;br /&gt;And as I look around&lt;br /&gt;Your eyes outshine the town, they do&lt;br /&gt;This christmas&lt;br /&gt;Fireside is blazing bright&lt;br /&gt;Were caroling through the night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this christmas, will be&lt;br /&gt;A very special christmas, for me yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, break it down, ha ha ha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooh yeah, yeah yeah, alright&lt;br /&gt;Yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah&lt;br /&gt;Yeah yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah&lt;br /&gt;Alright now, right now, now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fireside, oh, is blazing bright&lt;br /&gt;Were caroling through the night, yeah&lt;br /&gt;And this christmas, will be, oh&lt;br /&gt;A very special christmas, for me yeah&lt;br /&gt;And this christmas, will be&lt;br /&gt;A very special christmas, for me oh oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah yeah yeah yeah&lt;br /&gt;Merry christmas, ooh yeah&lt;br /&gt;Gonna have a merry christmas, ohh yeah, oh oh&lt;br /&gt;Merry christmas, oh it will be&lt;br /&gt;Oh, a very very very special christmas&lt;br /&gt;A very special christmas (this christmas)&lt;br /&gt;Alright now, right now, yeah oh&lt;br /&gt;It will be now, oh (this christmas)&lt;br /&gt;Oh, this will be, this will be, baby&lt;br /&gt;A very special&lt;br /&gt;Have a merry merry christmas (hey yeah)&lt;br /&gt;And a happy new year&lt;br /&gt;Oh hey, alright, yeah yeah yeah&lt;br /&gt;Merry christmas&lt;br /&gt;This christmas&lt;br /&gt;Oh this will be, this will be, baby&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Christmas sung by Chris Brown&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-6495191678101996039?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/6495191678101996039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/6495191678101996039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas.html' title='Christmas ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-3126026622844901060</id><published>2009-12-17T10:35:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T10:59:34.497+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aches ... all over</title><content type='html'>This is killing me .... but what else do I have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next to dancing, I really wish I can have a best friend. But it is unlikely I will have any. Despite having a family, I feel lonely. It is like there is a gap in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only turn to dancing, hoping to fill up whatever gap there is. But my body isn't what it used to be. I am feeling the aches all over my body from the rehearsals. My feet feel like it doesn't want to walk, my knees are back to giving me problem. My shoulder, my neck, all shouting for me to keep still. But I can't. I don't want to. For if I don't have my dance, I will go insane. I will feel empty of what makes me feel alive. Next to having friends to make me feel important, I need dancing for motivation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is only so much that having a family can do. I used to think that having a family will do. Just me and them. And nobody else. But it has left me being a frustrated man. Now .... it seems that being a frustrated man is the only thing to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A frustrated man who must dance with all the aches .... body and heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-3126026622844901060?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3126026622844901060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3126026622844901060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/12/aches-all-over.html' title='Aches ... all over'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-5593279564791461984</id><published>2009-12-08T08:23:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T08:39:29.776+08:00</updated><title type='text'>losing her ...</title><content type='html'>I miss her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Losing her friendship sadden me. I still thought about the time we had chatting on msn. She was like a best friend .... well, she was my best friend in a way. We would chat almost everyday, talking about almost everything. Maybe I had been too honest with my opinion. I realised now that she wasn't keen on arguing with me when times we had different views. I was too honest about how I felt. I thought being friends one can give honest opinions. I guess I was wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I was wrong in more way than I thought. To me she may be a best friend, but I doubt now that I am to her. She just consider me an online acquaintance. It does make me sad realising this. I like her alot, and hoping we could be best friend online and maybe eventually as real best friend. Maybe I should have shown my face, if that was what could make her comfortable and trust that I really want to be her friend. I was thinking that true friends don't need that, but just honest relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes being too honest with what we say doesn't work. Like in this case. I have lost someone I wanted to be a best friend. I miss chatting with her. I miss knowing how she is getting on, what she eats for lunch, if she have any breakfast. I miss knowing how her daughter is doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of all I miss her .... I miss our friendship.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-5593279564791461984?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5593279564791461984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5593279564791461984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/12/losing-her.html' title='losing her ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-3976716117346521824</id><published>2009-11-23T15:46:00.013+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T16:09:00.770+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday and wishes</title><content type='html'>Today is Farhana's birthday, happy birthday Farhana!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember her birthday every year, as well as the others. But every year I never get to celebrate her birthday with her. I wish I can, but I dare not ask, for fear that she will reject my wish. I will be disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I finally did ask someone, and was disappointed. They mean a lot as friends to me. I wish they can be my close friends, but I accepted that I cannot be. I know I can be just another casual friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to share their special day with them. That is all I can ask. So the more I want, the more I will be disappointed if they say it isn't necessary. As long as I have the opportunity to stay in touch with them, I have to be satisfied with just sending birthday wishes to them. After all, it is their birthdays, more important is that their wishes are met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon they will move on, most already do. But I will try to remember their birthdays still .... for memories of them are what that keep me sane in a friendless and lonely world of mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family is not enough, we need friends ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-3976716117346521824?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3976716117346521824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3976716117346521824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/11/birthday-and-wishes.html' title='Birthday and wishes'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4710924668525321103</id><published>2009-11-18T21:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T21:52:54.333+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hip not hopping  ...</title><content type='html'>After a year of non-exercise, I am finally doing something. Though it isn't easy doing hiphop at my age. The heart is willing but the body is aching haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how much effort they are putting into the performance, they may be getting the steps, but I don't see the style or energy. Dancing is not about remembering steps, but feeling the dance and putting up a great performance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still trying, but I don't know if they see the style that should be executed. In the end, I am afraid that it may just be a dance, not hiphop, not the way that should be danced as choreographed by Ash. Yes, people may like it, but it will be a let-down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will really like to dance with real hiphop dancers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4710924668525321103?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4710924668525321103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4710924668525321103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/11/hip-not-hopping.html' title='hip not hopping  ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-2942499673692340870</id><published>2009-11-11T00:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T00:54:27.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'>miss you at work</title><content type='html'>All I can do is pray that you will recover from your injury soon. I miss you at work, I do miss your company... take care dear shiftmate ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-2942499673692340870?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2942499673692340870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2942499673692340870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/11/miss-you-at-work.html' title='miss you at work'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-7304222419208845556</id><published>2009-11-06T22:55:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T00:59:27.157+08:00</updated><title type='text'>letting you down</title><content type='html'>I am sorry ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were among the few that had let me join when having meal break. The last few weeks, I was always alone during my break. The last time I had company was with you. Yesterday, it happened that she asked me to join her. I had avoided her the previous time, when you wanted us to go together. That time, she had asked me first before you. But I would rather go with you. I didn't want to say no to her, then went with you, so I didn't go with either of you, choosing to eat alone instead. But yesterday .... I was reluctant to say yes at first, but she kept asking. You haven't tell me when you would be free to go, though you had said we would go together. I didn't know why I agreed to join her. I should have say no. I should have.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had happened to me always, people said they would call me, but went with others instead. Yesterday I had done that to you. I don't like it when others did to me, and here I am doing it to you. It was no excuse for me to disappoint you. I am disappointed with myself for doing it to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You had on a couple of occasion accompanied me, even when you already had your meal. You were the second person who had kept me company though you were not eating. I really appreciate that. I do miss Samsidar, and I know I will miss you too. I don't have any real friends, people here will always treat me as another colleague. Even you. It doesn't matter. I know I can't have any real friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I had let you down, I had disappointed you, you said it was okay. But I will never forgive myself for that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry, Baidura.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-7304222419208845556?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7304222419208845556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7304222419208845556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/11/letting-you-down.html' title='letting you down'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-105338710800803732</id><published>2009-11-06T14:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T14:48:00.529+08:00</updated><title type='text'>msn</title><content type='html'>msn isn't msn unless one has someone to chat with. I have nobody ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;msn is useless to me nowadays ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-105338710800803732?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/105338710800803732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/105338710800803732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/11/msn.html' title='msn'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4709145989257744063</id><published>2009-11-02T17:00:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T17:06:33.873+08:00</updated><title type='text'>not there ...</title><content type='html'>So much I want to say, but they are not there to listen ... &lt;br /&gt;so much I want to know about them, yet they are not willing to share with me ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4709145989257744063?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4709145989257744063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4709145989257744063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/11/not-there.html' title='not there ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8401263521768840565</id><published>2009-10-26T19:10:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T19:27:32.198+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to celebrate her birthday</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I wish I can drop my "M" status ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will still be faithful to my wife, but without the "M", maybe I can get the friends that I wanted. Don't get me wrong, I am not on a sexual hunt, or looking for a good time, though having friends do mean having a good time. What I am trying to say is, if being married is preventing me from sharing time with female friends, then I want to drop the status. Friendship means a lot to me, friendship is all I wanted from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I allow my wife to go out with her male friend, it is good to have male friends as well as female. She got to celebrate with him on his birthday. But me, I can't. Because the world is not as tolerance as me. I don't blame her if she will feel awkward about having meal alone with me. Society will gossip. She don't want it. It is frustrating, me letting my wife going out with her best friend, but I can't do the same ... I do wish to celebrate her birthday ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If wanting female friend is my wish, then I am doomed to be friendless. That is the wish of society....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8401263521768840565?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8401263521768840565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8401263521768840565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-want-to-celebrate-her-birthday.html' title='I want to celebrate her birthday'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8942659731884092328</id><published>2009-10-22T22:39:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T22:47:08.150+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who I am</title><content type='html'>I have never meant to keep my face from you. All this years, I can't wait to meetup with you, that is the time I want to let you see who I am ... but I guess I have always fear that you will turn down my request to meet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I may have lost the chance to be your real friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who am I? Someone who treasure your friendship ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8942659731884092328?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8942659731884092328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8942659731884092328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/10/who-i-am.html' title='Who I am'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1294304433278334793</id><published>2009-10-21T09:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T09:54:03.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'>raya video</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TLZwr69Gt5U&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/TLZwr69Gt5U&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This video is my only celebration for Raya this year. Last year at least I had one, but this year, I have no invite, no makan, not even kuih kuih to taste. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I have only myself to blame as I didn't offer any good fasting this year. Unlike last year I had my operation, this year was no excuse. Though I am feeling disappointed with trying to observe fasting. Other non-muslim. who don't even bother to share the fasting, gets to celebrate with their muslim friends, but not me. So ... it is a matter of having good friends that matter, friends who will want you to come to their places to celebrate their festive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just plain old colleague ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1294304433278334793?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1294304433278334793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1294304433278334793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/10/raya-video.html' title='raya video'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4671894180789287888</id><published>2009-10-19T10:06:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T09:59:46.839+08:00</updated><title type='text'>friends not, insanity yes?</title><content type='html'>Friends, family and dancing ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They means alot to me .... but I only have a family, and that is not enough. I know, for I have been through this before ... and it almost broke me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past few years, I have come to realise that a person needs a friend outside the family to have a more balance life. Someone that one can meet up for a chat, to laugh or share one's thought. Someone who is a family outside the family. For the past few years has seen me finding a few, yet they have not been that close friend that I have always wanted. Fate is not letting me have a close friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colleagues can only be colleagues, for I am disadvantaged. Being a married man, nobody will believe that I only wish to have them as a friend, true friend. Yes, those I wanted as close friends happened to be female. Maybe because I wanted someone sisterly, maybe even motherly haha. The fact that they are female is preventing me from getting that friendship that I seek. Even if they are willing, outsiders and their gossips may be the reason they dare not. This is how life is. It is unfair, but it is the reality. I know. But if I can't seek a close friend among my colleagues, people that I am in contact always, I have nowhere else to look. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't depend on looking towards dancing for help, for age is not on my side. But I have to .... to stop me from going insane. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to keep everything to myself now, letting it out through dance, even if I have to dance to myself .... just as I keep my insanity to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seek for help but none is willing to spare the time for me. I don't blame them. They are still special to me in my heart. I am a fool, who treasure friends, even though they may not want to me one. I will still help them if they ask. That is the kind of fool that I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe insanity will bring me the happiness that I have been seeking to balance my life, but couldn't get ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4671894180789287888?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4671894180789287888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4671894180789287888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/10/friends-not-insanity-yes.html' title='friends not, insanity yes?'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1697971649087245009</id><published>2009-10-16T16:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T16:36:30.745+08:00</updated><title type='text'>speedy recovery</title><content type='html'>I pray she will recover soon ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1697971649087245009?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1697971649087245009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1697971649087245009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/10/speedy-recovery.html' title='speedy recovery'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-6619521933036262933</id><published>2009-10-15T14:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T14:35:24.757+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Accident</title><content type='html'>Sam had an accident, heard it was bad, I hope she will recover soon, I miss her ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she changed shift, I was alone most of the time, most of the others don't bother about me. She was companionship when we had duties together. I worry for her, I can only pray that she will be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss Sam ... and Dura ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-6619521933036262933?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/6619521933036262933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/6619521933036262933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/10/accident.html' title='Accident'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-5482462220340912699</id><published>2009-10-06T17:25:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T17:41:38.892+08:00</updated><title type='text'>no Raya</title><content type='html'>It is easy to say that it doesn't matter ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not celebrating Raya with them ... yes it is not my festive, but having tried fasting, it is naturally expected if can celebrate Raya ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to join them go visiting, it doesn't matter I may not know the people I visit, I just want to be part of the festive celebration, with someone that I consider close will be enough. I wish someone will invite me to their place ... before it is over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose it is over even before it begins ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-5482462220340912699?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5482462220340912699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5482462220340912699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/10/no-raya.html' title='no Raya'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8021742143708586080</id><published>2009-09-30T20:33:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T20:36:56.383+08:00</updated><title type='text'>wishing for a "son" ....</title><content type='html'>The other day I was reminded of a wish I had a few years back. I was wishing I could be the godfather of Suhaili's son. It would have sealed our friendship, and I would have a "son" haha. And with her second son, I would have two "sons" to play with. If we were best friends ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I never got to have that wish ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8021742143708586080?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8021742143708586080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8021742143708586080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/09/wishing-for-son.html' title='wishing for a &quot;son&quot; ....'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-3244664537852499061</id><published>2009-09-26T16:24:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T16:55:45.369+08:00</updated><title type='text'>not a good Raya</title><content type='html'>This hasn't been a good Raya for me. I wish someone will invite me to her place for Raya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Raya, I seem to lose people that matter ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish BC will message me ...&lt;br /&gt;I wish Bai didn't have to leave the team ...&lt;br /&gt;But I wish them well .... and always be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nobody again ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-3244664537852499061?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3244664537852499061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3244664537852499061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/09/not-good-raya.html' title='not a good Raya'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-601378546691092894</id><published>2009-09-17T10:19:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T18:58:54.649+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Selamat Hari Raya</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TeIAjjrKhjA&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/TeIAjjrKhjA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song sung by Dayang is my favourite, though it has been sung by others. First heard it on Zana's blog, I immediately like it. And it has become special to me ... not only the song but the occasion ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selamat Hari Raya Aidil Fitri!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-601378546691092894?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/601378546691092894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/601378546691092894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/09/selamat-hari-raya.html' title='Selamat Hari Raya'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1901826510287541861</id><published>2009-09-10T01:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T01:39:56.453+08:00</updated><title type='text'>anyone out there ...</title><content type='html'>I know I have lack of friends, so it shouldn't be surprising that I have nobody commenting on my blogs or facebook. Still, I can't help feeling sad, that nobody is interested in reading anything I wrote. Not that I have anything worthy for anyone to read. Still ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I should be writing for myself, yet inside me, I am hoping that there will be someone out there who is interested in me, what I have to say, even if it is repetitively boring. A writer needs a reader. If not, why does he even bother to write? If there is anyone out there reading my posting, I do wish he/she will make himself or herself known, so that I will have motivation to write, perhaps writes something more meaningful. If only so, but I doubt there is anyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz, maybe it is time I stop. I have so many things to write, yet I am feeling depressed, making it reluctant to write. And when I do, whatever I had in mind, don't come out. Often I ended up telling how depress I was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often commented on others posting, wishing that they too will write on mine too. I hardly had any. I want to blame it on my poor posting, perhaps that is the reason that people don't bother to comment. I hope so ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is action and inter-action. I wish that there is someone out there who will comment on my posting .... I want to know that ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1901826510287541861?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1901826510287541861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1901826510287541861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/09/anyone-out-there.html' title='anyone out there ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-3126552844710194142</id><published>2009-09-08T18:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T19:19:22.024+08:00</updated><title type='text'>waiting for her message ..</title><content type='html'>I don't know why she didn't reply to me. She probably has a reason. If she don't want to message me, then I can only wait... and hope she will again one day. Nothing much I can do, can I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need her to keep me sane, but she don't need me. She has other friends. People need friends. Me included. But I have yet to find someone who needs me as much as I need her. Yes, it will probably be a her. So far, those I am keen to have as a close friend is always a her. Perhaps I believe a female can be more understanding. Not many guys can. But I know that a woman can be emotionally wicked to a guy if she is upset. I guess I will be putting myself at risk and mercy of that friend, if ever one will accept me. But it is part and parcel of making friend. There will be good days, as well as bad. Maybe others are not as tolerance, but as long as I believe in them, I will be. I understand the value of true friend. Something I have long for, but yet to have ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till then, I can only depend on my luck to be at the right place at the right time when they need someone to confide ... that I can be a friend, even if it may only be temporary ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-3126552844710194142?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3126552844710194142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3126552844710194142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/09/waiting-for-her-message.html' title='waiting for her message ..'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-2708944998148346170</id><published>2009-09-04T09:39:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T10:27:26.329+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends and amusement park</title><content type='html'>I have all along believe that if one cannot have them as your close friends, the next best thing is working or doing things together. Maybe in time they will accept you. If there is time ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may be losing someone again ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no friends outside of my workplace. My colleagues are all I have. I enjoy their companionship, it makes going to work more acceptable. Work may not be friendly, but having friends make the workplace friendly. It helps reduce the stress level. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If friendship goes beyond the workplace, that will be ideal. But ideal don't happen often. Dreams are make of meeting up at some malls and shopping together, meeting up for food session, going to the movie, or just hanging out to chitchat. Dreams will remain a dream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need them for companionship, for friends are just as important as family, if not more. I may be easy to get along with, but like everyone, I do choose whom I like to be close with. The trouble is they may not feel the same. Yes, colleague okay, but they don't choose me as someone they want to have as a close friend ... a best friend. I suppose that they being female makes it more difficult, as people see male-female friendship bondage is not possible. I do. That is why I have never stop my wife from having a male best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a best friend ... everyone does. But I have yet to get one, even though I have found a few I like. I am not fated to have a best friend. I envy others who have, even jealous. Long ago, when my wife had no friend, I was hoping that my friends can be hers too. Now, she had found a few, yet I still have nobody. I can only envy her when she goes out with them for eating sessions or hanging out. I have only the workplace to hope for, hoping everyday that I may be lucky to have someone to keep me company. But only at work, as outside the workplace, I do not have anyone that I can go out with if my wife does not want to accompany me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I have written countless of times on my blogs, I feel empty of friends, as those I have at work, in reality are actually only colleagues. Once work is over, I don't get to see or socialise with them. I wish I can. It is like going to an amusement park, happy while you are there, but once you leave the place, you are left only with the memory. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish my world can be an amusement park ... and I can have my friends with me always ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-2708944998148346170?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2708944998148346170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2708944998148346170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/09/friends-and-amusement-park.html' title='Friends and amusement park'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-709544098688917098</id><published>2009-09-02T01:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T01:03:55.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a second chance please</title><content type='html'>What can we do if someone doesn't want to keep in touch? Nothing ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been over four years, and she still doesn't want to be my friend. I guess it was all my fault, I told her I wanted her to be my best friend. But she didn't want. &lt;br /&gt;I wasn't given the opportunity .... now, still unable to get the chance ... a second chance .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I can have a second chance ... please ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-709544098688917098?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/709544098688917098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/709544098688917098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/09/second-chance-please.html' title='a second chance please'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1963376681228218224</id><published>2009-08-24T16:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T16:23:13.238+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramadan 09</title><content type='html'>It is Muslim Ramadan ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year I didn't puasa due to my operation, I will like to try again this year, at least as many days as I can. Of course, I will not be fasting the way the Muslim does it, nor do I do it in a religious way. I just want to experience fast at this time of Ramadan, together with my Muslim friends ... and hopefully I can gain point with God, though I doubt I will gain any, as not doing it the way he will want a believer to do, whether being a Muslim or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year, though I didn't puasa, I was fortunate to have a few of many colleagues letting me joined them to break fast a couple of days. It was the first time I got to do it. It was nice, I felt happy. For two years that I had fast, I didn't get to share the breaking, nor got invited to their home during. Though only Yul invited me last year, it was enough. I don't expect more. I wonder, will she invite me again? Or any of them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try to read up the book on the Prophet again this year as I do the puasa. I seek peace within me ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1963376681228218224?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1963376681228218224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1963376681228218224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/08/ramadan-09.html' title='Ramadan 09'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4663461517593930316</id><published>2009-08-17T11:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T11:14:14.481+08:00</updated><title type='text'>changes in our lives ...</title><content type='html'>Change is taking place ... we can't avoid changes, sometimes it is good and sometimes it is not ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz ... we can't help but accept it .... even the bad one. Why can't the good one stay?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4663461517593930316?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4663461517593930316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4663461517593930316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/08/changes-in-our-lives.html' title='changes in our lives ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1008106593109462895</id><published>2009-08-04T11:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T12:43:55.186+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pokemon Journey</title><content type='html'>I was a little worry, it always was when the flight was full. We were lucky, managed to get on board. So began our Pokemon adventure ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reached early morning, temperature around 22.4 degree C. We took the Airport Limousine, which was actually a coach. Got down at Shinjuku Station, we immediately searched for the cinema. It was easy finding Shinjuku Picadilly from the map we printed before we left. I was quite familiar with the area from our previous trip. Back then, we didn't realise that there was a cinema there, we had passed the building so many times haha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got tickets for the 12pm show, and being the 1st day of the month, there was a discount. We paid 1000yen each instead of the 1800yen. That was good news. She wanted a fastfood, but couldn't find any in that area, she wasn't interested in the other food which we came across. In the end, I got a bun for myself and a chicken stick for her, though she only ate one small piece. I supposed she was more excited than hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way to the hall was one long flight of stairs after stairs, 9th floor I believe. Finally we settled in the cinema hall. She got her DS and wified when prompted. She got her pokemon. The movie started ... Pokemon 2009 movie in Japanese. As being tired with hardly any sleep on the flight to Tokyo, I began to feel my eyes closing often. In a way I was lucky not to doze off throughout the movie. That would have been disasterous, afterall, it was an expensive movie considering the airfare, even though with all the discount. 1000yen is about SGD16. She was wide-eyed and very attentive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the first part of our journey was a success. Now the next part... finding Pokemon Center. We went back to Shinjuku Station. Tried to find a Macdonald's but couldn't. We did get some melon buns, which seem to be only available here. Another must-do thing. Took the train to Hamamatsucho Station, then the search began. One good thing was there were plenty of young pokemon fans around. Even inside the train station, there was a promotion going on, could see many kids wearing Pikachu headwear. So, it was just a matter of following them, and sure enough, they were also heading for the Pokemon Center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was crowded inside. It was her 1st time being there, I could see her excitement. As was at the cinema too. I had been to 2 Pokemon Center before, one in New York while the other was in Tokyo, though it was at the old location. I had never been very familiar with Pokemons, every trip was for my children. I was lucky to be able to find the location each time based on map alone. This trip was no different. After looking around for a while, we left, with some goodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next agenda was food, we were very hungry by then. Managed to find a fastfood nearby, not so near actually haha. The Wendy's here did not have shrimp burger, so she had to settle with a chicken teriyaki burger. Having had our filled, time to head back to the airport. We didn't reached in time for the 1910 flight, she was too keen on leaving Tokyo anyway. So we started looking for a hotel to stay overnight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hotel we stayed before Port Hotel didn't had discount as I was hoping it would. The rate was rather too expensive. So we took the free shuttle to Aeon Mall. We had our dinner there at the foodcourt. It was a familiar place for us, having been there twice before. It was one place where you can get MacDonald's and japanese food in the same seating area. She had her shrimp burger, which was available only here in Japan, while I had my ramen. We each had what we loved to eat. Being in Japan would be empty without she having her shrimp burger and me my ramen. I even went on a ramen trip the year before haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the meal, did a little browsing around, then headed for the supermarket where I bought a little something to bring back home for those who had remained behind. I didn't check for the last shuttle timing, so we were lucky that there was one last shuttle to ANA Crown Plaza. I couldn't get a room there, being fully booked. The bell captain helped to search for an alternative, managed to find Narita U-City for us at 10390yen, which was much cheaper than the 20000yen at Port Hotel. She was tired and could use a bed, so we headed to the hotel. We took the 100yen each shuttle to Keisei Narita Station then walked to the U-City hotel. The night was cooling and several people were out, heading home probably. Then it was bedtime for us. It had been a long day, we were at Changi at around 7.30pm, reaching Tokyo around 7.30am, with hardly any good sleep. Finally resting in our hotel around 11.30pm. Time to sleep ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, it was off to the airport at 8.10am when the airport shuttle picked us up. The counter just opened when we reached there. We had to be on standby as the flight was full, so we went to get Macdonald's breakfast. There were plenty of time so I looked around the shops there, and found some souvenirs to bring back. We were lucky on this trip. We got our flight, and seated together too. We were very lucky. Arigatoo gozaimasu Tokyo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one trip we will not forget, a Pokemon journey ... a Pokemon adventure!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1008106593109462895?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1008106593109462895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1008106593109462895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/08/pokemon-journey.html' title='Pokemon Journey'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4790062232848131978</id><published>2009-08-04T11:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T11:04:26.470+08:00</updated><title type='text'>did she get it?</title><content type='html'>She had her birthday on 1Aug, I smsed her, but don't even know if she using the number ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When one doesnt get a reply, one can never know if the person receive. I always try to reply whatever sms I get ... it is courtesy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4790062232848131978?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4790062232848131978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4790062232848131978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/08/did-she-get-it.html' title='did she get it?'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-2800363645062777895</id><published>2009-07-26T19:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T19:20:17.612+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To make a wish</title><content type='html'>Yulie had her birthday last week. In a few days time, another birthday of someone special. And I know I will not be there to celebrate. I dare not ask, I know I will be disappointed. I will sms her, but I will not be surprised if she didn't acknowledge it. Suhaili hasn't acknowledge any of my smses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only keep on wishing to all of them ... to celebrate with them, that is as likely as snow in Singapore...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish to celebrate their birthday one day, but that is not as important as their wishes will come true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-2800363645062777895?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2800363645062777895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2800363645062777895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/07/to-make-wish.html' title='To make a wish'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-5266880413946582172</id><published>2009-07-06T09:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T10:34:43.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letting go ...</title><content type='html'>I felt sad that she seemed to be avoiding me, but I guess I didn't do anything to make our friendship work. Not anymore. I guess I am giving up. I still like her and feel she would have make a good friend, but she hasn't shown the interest to want to have me as a best friend. I could use a best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, I have found someone who is like a best friend. At least she took the trouble to keep me company. But I know I shouldn't have any expectation, which always become shortlived. Friendship never last for me. For the time being, I am happy that I don't have to feel lonely, sometimes. I hope we can remain shiftmate always, but knowing the company, I can only wonder how long will this last ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Letting go is hard, but I will always consider her a good friend. Everyone of them ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-5266880413946582172?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5266880413946582172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5266880413946582172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/07/letting-go.html' title='Letting go ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1797503118669741950</id><published>2009-06-30T10:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T10:49:12.331+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good chocolate ....</title><content type='html'>"A good friend is like a good chocolate ... Nothing artificial ... Quality ingredients ... And always Appreciated."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was written on the bookmark. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Samsidar, for your friendship.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1797503118669741950?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1797503118669741950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1797503118669741950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/06/good-chocolate.html' title='Good chocolate ....'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8712543638515322173</id><published>2009-06-17T22:47:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T23:07:19.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My destiny ...</title><content type='html'>Do anyone read my blog? I doubt so. Not even Didy, which make me wonder why I bother to make a dedication haha. I wish they can read, the reason I started writing in the first place. I wanted them to know about me, just as much as I wanted to know about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People change. I do too, my expectation, my dream. But I will still care for them, those I long to have as my friends, yet till this day, I haven't been as successful as I wish it to be. I want to have friends who can be with me 10yrs or more from today, but I know that will not be possible. Stupid dream for a dreamer like me haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends ... I treasure friends, but I can only expect acquaintances, people who drift in and out of my life. Just like I do in theirs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will do my best to be the best acquaintance to drift into their lives, not expecting anything from them. That is my destiny .....&lt;br /&gt;Danceal will be a friend to those he cares, regardless if they feel the same about him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8712543638515322173?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8712543638515322173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8712543638515322173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-destiny.html' title='My destiny ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-7421347211450125654</id><published>2009-06-17T22:38:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T22:46:56.597+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Especially for Didy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SjkBd-90eKI/AAAAAAAAAQU/ejCBqq_jDoM/s1600-h/261177171727.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SjkBd-90eKI/AAAAAAAAAQU/ejCBqq_jDoM/s200/261177171727.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348307647109298338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you have a great birthday, Didy. If only I can be there ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-7421347211450125654?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7421347211450125654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7421347211450125654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/06/especially-for-didy.html' title='Especially for Didy'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SjkBd-90eKI/AAAAAAAAAQU/ejCBqq_jDoM/s72-c/261177171727.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1418484051399812048</id><published>2009-06-16T11:42:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T14:30:38.330+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To KL and back ...</title><content type='html'>If one can catches the right promotion, one can get cheap air tickets. It is a matter of timing. Well, I missed my timing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First time I was at the Budget Terminal, not that bad looking, minimal but I suppose got what it takes to cater to passengers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/Sjc5DFCMc1I/AAAAAAAAAPs/olb0uGZfjf8/s1600-h/bt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/Sjc5DFCMc1I/AAAAAAAAAPs/olb0uGZfjf8/s200/bt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347805807579525970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to our plane was back to the olden days, as no aerobridge so we had to walk across the hot tarmac to get to the aircraft. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/Sjc6HWQEqrI/AAAAAAAAAP0/6NZO8h1rUbw/s1600-h/DSC00090.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/Sjc6HWQEqrI/AAAAAAAAAP0/6NZO8h1rUbw/s200/DSC00090.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347806980432243378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As everyone knows, any food on board, one has to pay for it. So no free coffee or tea even. Maybe I should have paid more for a better airline, it costed only around $50 but when with the family, one had to times the amount and it costed alot. At this period, I have to save whatever I could. So budget airline it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had been to KL a few times, but I guess being away to another country even if it was only Malaysia made it felt like a real holiday. As usual, there was the traffic jam. That was why I stayed in Bukit Bintang area, where I did not have to take a taxi during my stay, where shopping and food were a walking distance away. We didn't go beyond that, 3days were gone very fast. The kids preferred fastfoods so we ate those mostly. The fastfood in KL is much better than in Singapore, the menu there more varied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/Sjc7htcwhMI/AAAAAAAAAQM/1DtTKRURDYo/s1600-h/radius.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/Sjc7htcwhMI/AAAAAAAAAQM/1DtTKRURDYo/s200/radius.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347808532847690946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/Sjc6YtyYxgI/AAAAAAAAAP8/SrJALavfSog/s1600-h/bbjam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/Sjc6YtyYxgI/AAAAAAAAAP8/SrJALavfSog/s200/bbjam.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347807278807959042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/Sjc6wGIRcyI/AAAAAAAAAQE/TWwkNqDQaMk/s1600-h/bb1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/Sjc6wGIRcyI/AAAAAAAAAQE/TWwkNqDQaMk/s200/bb1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347807680479195938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't do much shopping or eating as I wanted to. Some items were cheap, but didn't find anything for us. We did watch Terminator Salvation there, the only movie the kids were willing to watch. The great thing about staying in a hotel was the buffet breakfast, which my wife and I never missed haha. I wanted to eat durian but she wasn't keen, so had to forgo the taste. A few other food I had to skip too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids got their wish, Pokemon movies that they couldn't get online or in Sg. It was the main reason they decided to follow. I was more interested in just me and the wife. Or with some friends. But that idea didn't work. With the kids, we were restricted to what they wanted to do. Anyway it was a family trip, I am satisfied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had always been where my daughter wanted to go when we went on a holiday trip, she had something in mind, deciding where we would end up in. I had always let her decided, I guess I am spoiled her. Both of them. But they are all I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only be a father once in this lifetime. I may not be there when they grow into an adult. If I can't give them what I can now, I may not have the chance in the future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am not a perfect father, I may not know all the answers and may not do what is right. I can only do my best, and hope that is enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1418484051399812048?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1418484051399812048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1418484051399812048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/06/to-kl-and-back.html' title='To KL and back ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/Sjc5DFCMc1I/AAAAAAAAAPs/olb0uGZfjf8/s72-c/bt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-7291413032448913838</id><published>2009-06-10T19:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T19:19:29.714+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Better to not wanting ...</title><content type='html'>Sometimes one should let things be as it is, and not whine about not having it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally get to go KL, not alone, but it costs me alot. I am getting real broke. Maybe should have let myself gain financially before wishing to do something. It is too late to change my plan. I can only hope I can survive through this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I had in mind was just with my wife, or maybe some friends. It would cost less. Having a the whole family meant I have to give them a better deal than the basic. Maybe I should have just acccept going off alone. I would then have a lesser stress, mentally and financially. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I had to make some unexpected changes to my future ..... and possibly my expectation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-7291413032448913838?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7291413032448913838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7291413032448913838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/06/better-to-not-wanting.html' title='Better to not wanting ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-5380429545252725582</id><published>2009-06-03T07:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T08:18:53.407+08:00</updated><title type='text'>GSS is ...</title><content type='html'>GSS is too much of a hype, at least for me this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I have been expecting too much, hoping for good deals. So far, I haven't really get the best of it yet. I have got better sale deals at other sales at other time of the year. Maybe that is it, that Singapore had too many sales season, some offering very good offers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That doesn't mean that GSS doesn't offer good discount, but when taking into account that it is possible we can get the discounted sales at other times, the "Great" doesn't seem so great afterall. Singapore is an island of sales. Some more gimmicky than real sale. More than anything, GSS is more value when you know which mall to go to the the stores themselves, as shopping malls are the ones that offer incentives when you have spent certain amount. And certain credit cards. That is more an incentive for one to go buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, GSS is more of a knowing which mall to go to get the best value for your buys. So far, I didn't get any. I was usually too late as the freebies had finished, or not spending enough due I couldn't find what I wanted at the mall. I could get it at another mall, but that mall will not have the freebies attached. If one doesn't buy the correct goods at the correct mall, one will loose out. That is the story of GSS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I will detach myself from GSS this year, find some place to just relax, not thinking of shopping malls or sales. Maybe ... but my wife will not tolerate my sentiment .... sooooo ... I can only hope that she will allow me to do strategic buying to get the best deals. But from my past endeavour, it will be difficult to get the best out of GSS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only try ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-5380429545252725582?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5380429545252725582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5380429545252725582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/06/gss-is.html' title='GSS is ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1525726919320756322</id><published>2009-05-28T15:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T15:36:59.572+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grant me my wish .... not</title><content type='html'>June is around the corner ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plenty of reasons to anticipate June.&lt;br /&gt;GSS ....&lt;br /&gt;School holidays ....&lt;br /&gt;her appointment ...&lt;br /&gt;after June will come July bonus ...&lt;br /&gt;her birthday on the 17th ....&lt;br /&gt;my annual leave ....&lt;br /&gt;more birthdays ....&lt;br /&gt;fun .... fun .... fun .... well, at least it should be fun if all is in place. But knowing from the past, not everything will be as I like it to be haha. I guess I will not expect it to be so this year either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good wish to have is spending the day on a friend's birthday. But it is not my birthday, so why should that wish come true? haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come to term with not having my wishes on my birthday either. Afterall, I will not be the only person on that day to make a wish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;God, grant me the serenity&lt;br /&gt;to accept the things I cannot change;&lt;br /&gt;the courage to change the things I can;&lt;br /&gt;and the wisdom to know the difference.&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1525726919320756322?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1525726919320756322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1525726919320756322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/05/grant-me-my-wish-not.html' title='Grant me my wish .... not'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8174049191507525997</id><published>2009-05-27T17:51:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T18:13:24.379+08:00</updated><title type='text'>caring from afar</title><content type='html'>It is really hard not doing what you actually want to do ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case 1 &lt;em&gt; He saw Suhaili, opened the door for her, she did say thanks but nothing else. If only she had asked "how are you?" That would have given him hope. He still cared, and wanted her friendship. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case 2 &lt;em&gt;He had much to tell Didy, but often her answers were short and seem uninterested, unlike those he noticed she gave to others. He wanted to tell her his thoughts, as he had felt doing in the past, but feared being treated cold again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps this was best, to care for someone from afar, anonymous even, giving whatever help, not necessary to the knowledge of the person, but will benefit that person. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is used to that anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8174049191507525997?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8174049191507525997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8174049191507525997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/05/it-is-really-hard-not-doing-what-you.html' title='caring from afar'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4168364624373979878</id><published>2009-05-22T10:28:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T11:04:07.584+08:00</updated><title type='text'>They are not there ...</title><content type='html'>It felt weird not having the Malay colleagues around, which do happened once a while. Eversince I mix around more with the Malay girls, I have gotten so use to wanting them around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last two days had me not working with them. I miss them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am missing my other colleagues too, especially the 3. Not being able to work with them also mean I lose out getting to know them, and doing things together. And the chance of gaining their friendship ... not just being colleagues but real friends. But, haiz, I suppose it wouldn't make any difference. The fact is they don't need my friendship as much as I need them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lost count how long it had been, but after so many years, I still miss not having them around. The memories may not be there much, but the heart still cares for them, as friends that were there when I needed some, even if it didn't last or being the companions as I wished them to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that even the present colleagues will not be there forever, like those people I knew before disappeared once we don't work together. Just because they are not there will not mean that they are not treasured in my heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship means alot to me ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(yes, another selfpity posting haha. but i really do miss their friendship ...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4168364624373979878?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4168364624373979878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4168364624373979878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/05/they-are-not-there.html' title='They are not there ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8844671098318523209</id><published>2009-05-19T08:11:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T08:43:20.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Being there for me ...</title><content type='html'>What can I say but thanks Samsidar, for being the only person who has accompanied me even though she doesn't intend to eat. I do appreciate that alot. Even if we don't get to be close friend, I will remember it. And blogging about her makes sure I do haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose giving up my hope of finding a close friend has lessened my feeling of wanting. I have gone back to the thing I used to do, to not wanting someone for company. If there are, good, if not, don't expect. Still, I do cry once a while, feeling the emptiness inside, of not having someone else besides my family. I still believe a person needs a close friend. Life shouldn't be revolved around your own family alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I had a chance to talk to Suhaili, but it was only two lines, and about work. She didn't seem keen to talk to me. Like how she was before. Maybe she felt uneasy seeing me, I don't want to make it more. I have to acknowledge that I can't gain her friendship again. That makes me feel sad ... everytime. I still feel she would have make a good friend, she could have helped me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is sad that we can't always get what is good for us, that we can only make do with what we have, though I do appreciate having that. I suppose that is better than nothing. I can't help wondering, why do things have to be temporary? I wonder how long Samsidar how be there for me before I loose her companionship too. I don't want to think about that, only that she has been there for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8844671098318523209?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8844671098318523209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8844671098318523209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/05/being-there-for-me.html' title='Being there for me ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4315451097565907278</id><published>2009-05-09T16:18:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T16:24:44.272+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I want ....</title><content type='html'>In my life there were alot of things I wanted to do, some I did, and many more I didn't get to do. Many things I like to do before I am 50yrs, but that number has already passed haha. Many things I can't do because I didn't have friends who could have helped me to pursue my interests. Some things can't be done alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I have friends who share the same interest, I will be ... not in order of merit ...&lt;br /&gt;a) mountain climbing ... but those high high one.&lt;br /&gt;b) backpacking overseas .... short trip due still need my job.&lt;br /&gt;c) horse riding ..... in a silver armour like those knights.&lt;br /&gt;d) go-karting .... have always like the mini version.&lt;br /&gt;e) scuba-diving ... so I can kiss the corals&lt;br /&gt;f) pool/snooker/billiard champion .... even do the twirling like Tom Cruise in the movie *hehe*&lt;br /&gt;g) basketball pro ... like to join the harlem globetrotter.&lt;br /&gt;h) cycling ... bicycle that is, my days of motorbiking is over.&lt;br /&gt;i) taking up archery and fencing at the same time ..... I am a modern day Robin Hood. &lt;br /&gt;j) formed an allgirl band like the Pussycat Dolls ..... ok this is not possible haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I have friends ... I can't even have someone to go movie or clubbing. Going to movies is such a casual event that many takes for granted, becuase they have friends. Who can I ask? I don't have any friend ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4315451097565907278?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4315451097565907278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4315451097565907278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-want.html' title='I want ....'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-6889107371321600078</id><published>2009-04-29T13:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T13:18:27.792+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends are for life ....</title><content type='html'>Looks like I will die early ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A 10year Australian study found that older people with a large circle of friends were 22 percent less likely to die earlier than those with fewer friends. Friendship has a bigger impact on our psychological well-being than family relationships. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Friendship is an undervalued resource. The consistent message of these studies is that friends make your life better." said a director of a centre for gerontology.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-6889107371321600078?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/6889107371321600078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/6889107371321600078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/04/friends-are-for-life.html' title='Friends are for life ....'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1825193260219819016</id><published>2009-04-07T10:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T11:16:45.534+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fading Memories</title><content type='html'>Memory is only as good as one can remember. How I wish I can recall memories of things I valued, but sometimes it is not up to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember details. Things are vague, as my braincells loses or misplaced my memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know they meant alot to me, but I can't remember details of the things we did. Just that they were and still are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than 4 years has passed, though I remember not the details, I still felt them in my heart, of wanting their friendship. The things I would do for them, even though I couldn't be with them. Like the writing of the lounge card invitation, though they asked me not to, I still did for them. It was the only link I had, as I couldn't work with them, no matter how much I wanted to. I could only do it when I was alone, using whatever spare time I had. I wanted to be able to do something for them. By doing things for them, I would feel I was with them. Yes, in my mind only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as I did for Adik. Nobody asked me to stamp the pass for her, she didn't either. I wanted to help her. All of them. If I did something which would benefit them, I wouldn't mind doing on my own time. Breaktime meant nothing if I had nobody to spend the time with. So I drown myself in work, finding ways to help them, even if they were not present when I did it. Whether they were there or not was not an issue, though it would have been nice, all I wanted was to help to them with their work. No, I am not workaholic, just wanting to help friends. Friendaholic, maybe? If there is such a word haha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never stopped wishing that I could join them, whether be it working, or hanging out. Often I wish we were the same team again. I know it doesn't mean that they would accept me. At least then we could work together more often. But I couldn't. I hardly get to see them. And even if I see them, we don't get to talk, maybe the occasional "hello" and "goodbye".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My memory of them is fading, but not my feeling of what they were to me, a friend when I needed one. Yes, I didn't actually get to be their close friend, but thinking that they were had helped me. Even if it was for a while. Perhaps that was why they had lingered on in my memories more than others. That I had wished that we could be more than casual friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't dare to dream of it, I don't expect that we will, it takes two to be close friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day my memories of them will be gone, along with how I felt about wanting their friendship. Right now, I may long for their friendship, very much. But soon, I may not even remember who they are. They will not remember me either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody knows the future. If I am lucky, maybe I still will remember them, of how they meant to me ..... but maybe not why. It is sad if I lose the only thing I have of them, my memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adik Yulie, Nordiana and Suhaili ..... at least this posting will remember you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1825193260219819016?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1825193260219819016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1825193260219819016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/04/fading-memories.html' title='Fading Memories'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-3285796095667406100</id><published>2009-03-28T22:38:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T00:03:21.221+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing my friends ...</title><content type='html'>Day off yet I still went back to my workplace to eat at the foodcourt, not that I missed the food or they being very extraordinary. Oh well, perhaps I was tired of going to town to have my meal ... or just I missed them, and hoping that perchance I might get to see them. Which I didn't! So much of hoping and wishing ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship and relationship works best when two people talk it out, and come to an understanding. I hope they will be best friends again. I hope Zana will be fine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last two days I saw Suhaili, but we didn't speak. She didn't even bother to look at me. I was hoping she would. I still missed not having her friendship. I could use her friendship ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Yulie yesterday, finally after so long. I did miss her too, didn't speak to her much except the usual "Hi" and "Bye". As usual, she didn't seem to want to stay and talk, so I didn't. At least she still gave a smile, and two, I should be contented. I can't expect much from her, or any of them, as they only see me as a colleague and maybe a casual friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never stop wishing that they can be more than that, I want them to be my close friends, don't ask me why, just that I do. I need them, the two of them and Diana, but after all these years, I have not get any closer, only seem to get more distant as we seldom cross each other path. I don't get the chance to meet up with them and have proper conversation. So it is no wonder that they will not accept me as someone close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lost any chance with Suhaili. And she was the 1st one who had changed my perception ..... she could have help me alot, maybe then I wouldn't have the need to blog. I do miss her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I depend on sms, being not able to spend time with them, sms is all I have to keep in touch with them. But I don't have that either. I know they may be busy. I don't expect instant reply, even a day later will be good, as long as we can keep in touch. I can only guess that they are not keen to keep in touch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is another posting of how I miss those I want to be my close friend. I guess I will do the same in my next. I started blogging to ease my frustration of not having their friendship, I guess blogging about them is my way of not going insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I may still be .... going insane. I don't blame them, just my luckless journey of finding close friend to accompany me. Yes having close friend may be a headache too, as someone may have encountered, but not having one is like not taking any panadol as headache will come, with or without a friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will want to have a close friend by my side, and I will do the same to her when she needs one too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come a long way since I first blogged. I have chatted up a number of online people along the way and have found some I care as much as my colleagues. Especially Su and Zana. I lost some along the way too. I wish they can be that close friend I want, but at least if I keep my distance, maybe it wouldn't hurt as much when I lose them. Afterall, we have never met. Yet they are as real to me. Perhaps I am just daydreaming that I can't care for them as much if they only exist online .... and it is not working haha.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still miss them as much as the rest ... I guess I am silly to care for people. Treating them as close friends when they are not really. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only give my heart, I will not expect others to share theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am missing my friends ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-3285796095667406100?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3285796095667406100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3285796095667406100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/03/missing-my-friends.html' title='Missing my friends ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-9083906279891169314</id><published>2009-03-21T17:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T17:34:59.992+08:00</updated><title type='text'>holiday ... i need it</title><content type='html'>It has been months and months I said I wanted to go KL, or even Phuket, again, but has not done so. It is because I dont have anyone to go with me yet. Haiz ... I don't want to go alone. But it seems likely I may have to go alone, as I don't have anybody to go with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a holiday again, I need to break my repetitive sequence of my current status.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only they will want to go with me ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-9083906279891169314?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/9083906279891169314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/9083906279891169314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/03/holiday-i-need-it.html' title='holiday ... i need it'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-7106124431850653722</id><published>2009-03-18T03:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T03:05:58.133+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday wishes to Blackcat13</title><content type='html'>May all your wishes come true, Blackcat13!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.friendsterpoint.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://s345.photobucket.com/albums/p384/stormyman_2008/fp_graphics/o-e/birthday/birthday-30.jpg" alt="Friendster Comment Graphics"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.friendsterpoint.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.friendsterpoint.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-7106124431850653722?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7106124431850653722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7106124431850653722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/03/birthday-wishes-to-blackcat13.html' title='Birthday wishes to Blackcat13'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-573968888513000363</id><published>2009-03-08T10:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T11:00:28.146+08:00</updated><title type='text'>colleague only</title><content type='html'>Samsidar turned a year older the other day, happy birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People I come into contact with changes every now and then. It will do so again. Colleagues comes and goes. I wish we can be friends, close friends, doing things together outside of work. But I can only be a colleague. It is frustrating not feeling wanted, but they have other friends, who are more than colleagues. So am I to expect anything more. That is how it is, and will always be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need someone more than a colleague ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-573968888513000363?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/573968888513000363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/573968888513000363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/03/colleague-only.html' title='colleague only'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-3917666333372932055</id><published>2009-03-03T09:12:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T09:18:45.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My pain, my pain ..</title><content type='html'>Finally went back to CGH for a checkout, strange that the hospital didnt set any appointment for the surgery. Is it the norm that a person is left uncheck after an operation? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though the doctor said I was fine, I can't help feeling that it is more than meet the eyes. He said the pain is due to the nerve reconnecting, set an appointment in April for scanning. I don't know, I still feel that something is not fine inside. I have to wait till April to see what the scan will reveal. In the meantime, I just have to ignore the pain, which I still am getting yesterday ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once the body is cut open, it will never be the same again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my "friends", I want to spend time with them .... I am scared ... that I will never get the chance to do so ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-3917666333372932055?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3917666333372932055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/3917666333372932055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-pain-my-pain.html' title='My pain, my pain ..'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4158700923188912110</id><published>2009-02-23T13:20:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T13:29:37.564+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramen</title><content type='html'>Ajisen having promo today only. We had the Ajimen ramen at 50% discount. The weather outside was cooling as it had been raining. The sky was as it was when I had my ramen in Tokyo. Cooling. Nice time to have a warm ramen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even went back for a day trip last year so I could eat ramen. Of course, the trip was free, so you can't say I am wasting money to do it haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed eating ramen in Tokyo. Anyone want to sponsor my trip to Japan? haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4158700923188912110?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4158700923188912110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4158700923188912110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/02/ramen.html' title='Ramen'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-7214441238147055255</id><published>2009-02-23T09:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T10:15:38.715+08:00</updated><title type='text'>sadness of life</title><content type='html'>I miss them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last few weeks, I felt the same feeling, that of lost, as I lost people I wanted so much to be my close friends. I still need them. But I can't as long as they don't need me. I have lost the 4 yrs, I believe more. I don't want to count, it makes me more frustrated. That other people can spend time with them but I can't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is sad that one can't be with people that one wishes to be with most of the time. To be there if they need us. I know that. I know that everyone will have to live their own lives, often away from those they care. I just can't help feeling the sadness of being unwanted, that they can live without me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read in the newspaper, of people who are staying on with their no-good boyfriends, claiming love, to be by their sides. Yet there can be better boyfriend around, who don't have the opportunity to have a girlfriend. How unfair situation can be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody can predict who makes a better boyfriend or girlfriend. And later on as husband or wife. The same goes for true friends. That is the sadness of life. Someone is lonely out there at any time, without a friend by his/her side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't guarantee that I can be the friend that they want me to be. Maybe that is my consolation feeling as I surrender to my fate. But I know that I will treasure their friendship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be happy for them, even if I can't make them happy ... for their happiness makes me happy too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is moving on ... I am still what I was before ... without someone I can meet up, chat at anytime we want. I am still without someone I can claim as my close friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-7214441238147055255?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7214441238147055255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/7214441238147055255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/02/sadness-of-life.html' title='sadness of life'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1190019442642838666</id><published>2009-02-17T04:20:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T04:36:51.343+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A writer's wish</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I saw a movie on cable, it reminded me about being a writer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every writer wants an audience. Readers, to read what the writer have to say. His opinions. His views. His stories. I am no different. I need readers, those special to me, to read my blog. Blogs, in fact. But I don't think I have any nowaday. Maybe one. It should be enough. Yet, I feel isolated, not achieving my specific audience. Like the character in the movie, I am not successful. I fail in my effort to be a writer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only blame my writing, not having something worthwhile to write that readers will want to listen. I may think that writing about friendship is important, yes it is important to me, that is why I kept writing about the same issue. But people get tired of it, I suppose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. Maybe I can be my only reader. Yet, it is not my intention when I started to blog. It is my only avenue to express myself ... to my readers .... who I want to be my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend who is someone who will listen, no matter how repetitive the subject is. For a true friend will always be there to listen. At least I will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1190019442642838666?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1190019442642838666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1190019442642838666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/02/writers-wish.html' title='A writer&apos;s wish'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1386161639952682971</id><published>2009-02-13T09:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T10:21:59.706+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Expectation ... not</title><content type='html'>I have lower my expectation so much from those I consider my friends, not that I have any choice. I know I can't expect them to treat me as I will of them. To me, they are important in my life, even more if they can be my close friends, but I know it can never be. I don't feel it from them. I am just a casual acquaintance to them, somebody they do not feel close as compare to their other friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expectation can be tiring after not getting what I feel is important to me. They could have help me. But I don't blame them for not choosing to have me as their close friend. I still will care for them. Something that one feels with the heart, it is not easy to let go. Not that I want to anyway. They will always be part of my memory ... if I can still have any, since I know my memory is bad. Especially with details. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, it will all be gone. And I will have nothing ... nothing to treasure, and that scares me. Because not having their friendship, memory is all I have ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expectation ... can one live without any?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1386161639952682971?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1386161639952682971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1386161639952682971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/02/expectation-not.html' title='Expectation ... not'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8174429396506248315</id><published>2009-02-06T11:02:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T11:24:06.065+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A moment in time</title><content type='html'>When one is not able to share time with your best friend, one loses out on the moment of sharing ... what it means of being a true friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish things can be better, I want to have time shared together, be it in working or just hanging out. But I don't have that opportunity. Others who may not be a friend has that moment. How can I expect her to accept me as a best friend? I can only be an acquaintance in a moment in time in her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A moment in time ... once lost, can never be reclaimed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8174429396506248315?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8174429396506248315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8174429396506248315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/02/moment-in-time.html' title='A moment in time'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8179126982666161316</id><published>2009-02-03T11:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T11:59:59.459+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cinta Ayat Ayat Cinta</title><content type='html'>Desir pasir di padang tandus ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I don't know what the line from the lyric means, but I like this song ... very.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I watched Ayat Ayat Cinta, loved the song, touched by the story. Especially at the hospital ... hopefully nobody noticed my red eyes haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always feel that if my wife should love somebody else, I will give her my blessing. Love is a gift from God. Of course, that doesn't include lust haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a person does not love, that person is not human. There is no one love in the world, though we can try to pretend there is, and try to pretend to ignore the feeling. We can be faithful to our dear, but we cannot deny that we may have feeling for others. I know it may not be fair to the one we promise ... so we can only suppress our feeling. Hopefully we don't go insane in the process ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayat Ayat Cinta deals with polygamy. It is a marriage contract that is not suitable for anyone. A husband must know that it doesn't mean he can take advantage of any women he fancys, and dump her. If he choose to marry those women he loves, he must love and cherish each one, wholeheartedly and always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is ... beyond our understanding&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8179126982666161316?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8179126982666161316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8179126982666161316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/02/cinta-ayat-ayat-cinta.html' title='Cinta Ayat Ayat Cinta'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1720309909654620907</id><published>2009-01-26T17:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T17:31:51.036+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am not that lucky</title><content type='html'>She has a male friend, they are quite close. I let them meet up, go shopping, have lunches together. I do not mind. That is the meaning of having a friend. Friendship isn't about which sex the other party is, just who that person is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only envy them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I can have the same. But I do not have the privilege of getting to spend time with them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not that lucky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1720309909654620907?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1720309909654620907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1720309909654620907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-am-not-that-lucky.html' title='I am not that lucky'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4963326778025270987</id><published>2009-01-26T16:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T17:14:11.908+08:00</updated><title type='text'>CNY</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I do hate holidays, because it reminded me how friendless I am. People will go visiting and being visited. I have none. This CNY I happened to have offdays, but what is the use of having that? Yes I have my family, I love being with thme, but it had been the same year after year. A brief stay at my parent's place, then go home, for the family, me off to work if I work afternoon. This year, I came home. It would have been nice if I had friends. If ......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rather be working, for maybe I can get lucky and get to have certain colleagues to spend time with. Or I can still be unlucky, and find myself feeling lonely at work ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4963326778025270987?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4963326778025270987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4963326778025270987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/01/cny.html' title='CNY'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-2283236996901202786</id><published>2009-01-24T19:04:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T19:12:07.397+08:00</updated><title type='text'>one step at a time</title><content type='html'>Join their practice session as I was free, I joined the guys to learn some malay dance steps, was easy, and I could have learnt the whole song if not for the new dancers who were slow. But made no difference, as I probably will forget the whole dance when I next come, which will be irregular due to my shift ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only I can perform a malay dance, I didnt get to do it last time. It would be nice. Afterall that was why I joined the group in the first place. But I suppose another reason make me come back. I enjoy being with the group, even if I don't participate in everything they do. I want to be belong, feel wanted, part of the gang. I don't know ... will I ever be able to? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like learning their dance, I have to take it one step at a time ... even if I want to do it faster. I have no control of what others want ... I don't even have control of what I want ..... haiz ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-2283236996901202786?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2283236996901202786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2283236996901202786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-step-at-time.html' title='one step at a time'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8922919586548658461</id><published>2009-01-07T22:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T22:38:58.459+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2009</title><content type='html'>Yes it is already a week into 2009. This is my first entry of the year. I just want to blog my feeling ... of friends who were close to my heart in 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say 2008 is a bad year, neither can I say it is good. Perhaps there is never a perfectly good year. We can accept whatever happened, and pray for a better year the next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't achieve much in 2008. I am disappointed but I accepted the fact that I failed. I didn't get my close friend, especially Nd. It isn't important, her happiness is, and I can only hope she is and will be. All these years I wasn't able to be close to her, partly because without being able to work with her or meet up. there is no way for her to want to feel close to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same goes for adik. As for S, I can only hope she will smile when she sees me. N,S and adik, the three of them has always been on my mind all these years. But I don't see any hope ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't gain the friendship I wanted from Avocado, I can only wish her well. She is still important to me. I did gain a "friend", someone online too who I feel "close" ... or at least she is to me. I need someone to be in touch with, and she was there, at least part of the time. I wish we can be closer, but I have learnt not to expect more than I should. I am glad that I am able to chat with her on msn, and the occasional smses. Thank you, blackcat13.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there were also Hitchic, Tragedic and Jas, they were all part of my life while I struggle with my insanity. It is not over yet for me, but I get through it. Perhaps there was always someone, at least one of them helping me with their messages via sms or msn. Will I handle it as well if none of them was there? I don't know. I don't want to find out, but ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At work, I am glad that of the occasional companionship I get from some, especially a few that I really like. I felt sad that I had to lose my shiftmate F, just like those before her, but I am lucky I got another nice shiftmate. Like those before, I will take care of her as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What will 2009 bring for me? I dare not ask or expect ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8922919586548658461?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8922919586548658461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8922919586548658461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2009/01/2009.html' title='2009'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8804221483365037098</id><published>2008-12-09T15:51:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:26:15.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Once more with friends ,,, or the lack of it</title><content type='html'>I am feeling miserable again ... thought I could get over it, but I can't. It is not something I can just switch off. I though if I don't think about it, it is okay, but I was wrong. For nothing has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a while since I blog, I don't know if I will again, or this is one of the occasion that I really can't handle it but to blog this posting. Haiz ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn to blogs to let it be a point of contact between me and them, to share my thoughts with some people dear to me, people that I considered my special friends. And most of all, I wanted to know more about them, I am always looking for updates on them. But they don't update me, neither can I gather much info from any of their blogs, if they have any. It didn't work. They didn't take time to check on me, nor update me on their lives. I know they may be busy, but I am never too busy for those I called my friends. Perhaps that is the difference. That I am not dear enough to them, as they are to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without the chance to interact with them in person, blogs are my lifeline to their world. They could have help me to have a more meaningful life. I would have feel wanted. For I want to be wanted by them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I treasure friends, time and time again I have mentioned it in all my blogs. But everytime, friendship has eluded me. I don't have any close friends, even though I have found people which I felt comfortable with. I don't blame any of them, I rather blame myself for wanting female to be my close friends. I may be open-minded, even letting my wife to have male companion for a close friend, but it is hard to find any female willing to be my close friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz ... it isn't fair, but it is the fact of life. I feel miserable, wanting to have friends that I can meet up with, sharing and doing things together. I can see others having it, but not me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the third time I couldn't go KL with anyone of them. Because I wasn't part of their circle of friends, I was too late. I really want to go KL with a group of friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going insane with this inability of getting friends that I want to be with. Friends mean a lot to me. Friends are the extension of ones family. Friends and Family go together to make a person complete. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am incomplete. I can only be insane ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8804221483365037098?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8804221483365037098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8804221483365037098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/12/once-more-with-friends-or-lack-of-it.html' title='Once more with friends ,,, or the lack of it'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-9143336461642578679</id><published>2008-09-16T08:48:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T09:31:03.798+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog no more</title><content type='html'>I should have keep my mouth shut. Every time I make someone angry because I want to say more than I just a yes or no. Words can be so easily misunderstood, especially when there is no face to face opportunity to sort it out and explain. I should have learnt from my past mistakes. I should have been what I was before, kept quiet and not try to explain how I feel. Not that I gained any friend back then, but at least I will not make anyone angry. I don't want to make her angry. Or any of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have so much I want to say to them. I started this blog so people I care can read how I feel and what I do. It is the only venue to do so as I don't get to be with them. To have the chance of spending the time with people I want to be with, those I consider my special friends, not just people I consider as casual or colleagues. There are many of those, but true friends are rare, and rarer for me. In fact I can't say I have any, if one consider friends as those you can contact when you want someone to confide or comfort you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blog so they can read. This blog is especially for those I listed in my heart2hearts list. Though I may not have told them, haha. Not that it will make the difference from the way I see it. But if anybody that I want to know about me, these are the people. Yet, recently, I doubt anyone, except for Blackcat13, read my postings. I guess I can't expect them to spare that little time to read here, who am I anyway but a headless nobody. I am disappointed, but I know they have other priorities. I may be interested in what they do, and I still will, but they are not me, and I can't expect them to bother about me as I would for them. This is the fact of human relationship. Not everyone sees things the way you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I want to tell people about me, it is as important for me to know what they are doing, through their blogs, if they have any. But it is not happening. I don't want to blog anymore since I am not doing what I want in the first place. I was hoping this blog will be the contact point for all of us. I had removed my tagboard as I got no tag and feedback. I think I will go back to being anonymous to everyone. Unless they want to find out about me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am already headless. I will be wordless as well. Yes, written words have been my favourite choice of communication. I have wanted to write down how I feel. I wanted to blog. I wanted true friends, because I have found people I care that meet my wish. But nothing have changed much since day one. Yes I have found many casual friends, online and in the real world. But true friends have still eluded me, friends who will spare more than a little time for me, just as I will for them. Maybe one day I can call someone that. Maybe not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, just after my operation, I told myself that if I had died, nobody will know about it, because they don't bother to sms me. Today my blog will die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you if you are reading this ... take care ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-9143336461642578679?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/9143336461642578679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/9143336461642578679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-no-more.html' title='Blog no more'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-888101030600484804</id><published>2008-09-11T22:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T22:12:31.466+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Operation CGH - Aftermath</title><content type='html'>Aftermath&lt;br /&gt;The numbness lasted till early in the morning. Finally I could feel my legs again, but the pain prevented me from moving comfortably. I was in real pain by now. It didn't help that I was feeling uncomfortable in bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how much sleep I had, it was on and off all the times. Since I was admitted, I may in bed longer than I was ever before, but I can't said I got a nice sleep throughout. It was something I will add to my memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time I noticed the time was about 8.35am. I was there for more than 24hours, and I had only a milo when I got up in the middle of the night, or maybe morning, but finally after 9am, I got my first food, chwee kueh. Of course, I finished every single bits. It may not be the best chwee kueh, it was cold, but to me, it was the best thing to touch my mouth. Before my operation, I had a dream in one of my so-called sleep, I dreamt of food coming to my mouth, but my mouth couldn't open. I couldn't eat. It was horrible! A nightmare!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got so much time lying in bed, I often thought of the people I wanted so much to be there, but wasn't. I know that I can't expect others to make me happy. It is often said that one must be one's own happiness. I had different thinking, maybe it is time I review my wants and needs. Maybe I will still be the same after all these have settled in my brain haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to finish this posting without mentioning the CGH staff, the staff was very friendly, and I wouldn't have wanted anybody else to look after me. And look after me, most did very well. I was well look after in spite of the various hickcups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the first time I had to go for an operation. But I know it may not be my last. Being human, my body will malfunction time and time again. Just a matter of time .....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-888101030600484804?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/888101030600484804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/888101030600484804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/09/operation-cgh-aftermath.html' title='Operation CGH - Aftermath'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-1978269450538613315</id><published>2008-09-11T16:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T16:08:16.677+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Operation CGH - Cut and Open</title><content type='html'>Cut And Open&lt;br /&gt;On the way, as I was being wheeled, I watched the ceiling went by, just as one would in movies. After corridors after corridors, I finally reached what seemed like my destination. I was told the patient before me had complication, so would take longer than anticipated. So, like it or not, I had to wait. And waited I did, and wait. It was cold, I had barely nothing on underneat the blanket. The nurse was kind enough to realise that I might be cold, so gave me extra blanket. Thank you, dear nurse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took longer that anyone anticipated, so I had to wait in what seemed like a holding room. Finally, it was time, and I was given the anestisia. I had chosen regional anestisia, which seemed like a funny choice as I was afraid of needle. Lucky I didn't get to see the needle, which probably would be huge. I felt the needle being jabbed into my spine. Then, it was a matter of waiting till the anestisia took effect. I could feel numbness soon, as slowly my lower part went to sleep. Then, it was completely numbed. I took a secret touch to my private organ, and I couldn't feel it.Sheesh, like it wasn't there, though I could feel it in my hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wheeled into the operating room. It looked like those I watched on TV, though it seemed more spartan. Think on TV, they stuffed all kind of machines to make it looked more sophisticated haha. Anyway, I was given something that knocked me out, that when I woke up they had already started operating on me. I could see with my blurry eyes something  was happening, via the overhead cirular light thing like one always saw in TV or moives. Strange feeling, being right in the middle of an operation, and me being the one operated on. I couldn't hear what was being said either as they spoke in a low tone, unlike movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In just a little while, I was told it was all over. I wondered how long I was out. Well, at least I got to see partial operation being carried out. I was wheeled to a holding area where they monitered me, being taking me to my ward. My body was still numbed. It was a terrible feeling not able to move your legs, or felt anything. Remind me never to get paralyse. I don't ever want to be helpless. But I don't control Fate ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, it was all over. They had cut me open, did what they must 2 repair me. Now it is all up to my Destiny if the operation was successful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-1978269450538613315?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1978269450538613315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/1978269450538613315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/09/operation-cgh-cut-and-open.html' title='Operation CGH - Cut and Open'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4681451489791228205</id><published>2008-09-11T14:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T14:06:20.718+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Operation CGH - Admission</title><content type='html'>Admission&lt;br /&gt;Was at CGH at 5mins to 8am, Early bird I was, but later came to realised that I was really, really early. Maybe they should have told me that I don't have to come at 8am. Think the nurse only told me it opened at 8am, but I may have mistaken it that I have to report at 8am. Sheeeesh!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in a way it was good I came early, came to realised that when they rescheduled me from Friday to Tuesday, they didn't changed my bed booking. I wasn't reserved any bed. Only through the good work of the receptionist, after several phone calls, and rescheduling of someone bed, was I alloted a bed. So, I was finally admitted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ward 1518, a nice 4bed room. I was told I couldn't keep my stuff as it was a temporary bed, so my wife had to take them away. I would have nothing with me. Oh I would be wearing their "uniform" of course, not stark naked, if anyone was thinking that I would be! Naughty mind! haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when my wife left, I was practically alone and without any possesion  I was so alone! My bed was next to the window, so most of the time I stared at the sky outside, nothing else to look. I watched as the sky turned from blue to cloudy, as the clouds changed from white to grey, to white again, then often greyish. In-between cloud watching, my mind turned to thoughts of people I knew. My family, and the various people I came to know recently. I guess it was a time of restrospecting. Of those I called friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have my watch with me, and I couldn't see any clock, well if there was any I couldn't see as I didn't have my specs as even that I couldn't keep. Visiting hours was 12 to 2pm so when some people came in to visit one of the patient, it was probably around noon. I was wondering, if I had told any of my friends, would they come if they could? I dared not ask anyone for I didn't want to be disappointed when nobody came. For I would be very looking forward to have a friend visiting me. I felt very lonely at that moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One by one, each patient was wheeled away, but I was still there. Think I was there seven hours at least. I was the last to leave the room. Think I heard it was 3.50pm somewhere during my journey to the operation room. And that is another story ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4681451489791228205?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4681451489791228205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4681451489791228205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/09/operation-cgh-admission.html' title='Operation CGH - Admission'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-2935072441859503498</id><published>2008-09-05T18:56:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T19:12:55.623+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bond by friendship ...</title><content type='html'>I used to think if I keep sending smses to them, they will get use to me, maybe accept me into their circle .... and be a close friend eventually. After all these years, nothing has changed. Sometimes even worse, as they decided to ignore me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know one don't have to constantly keep in touch with those you treasure, but that is provided you are already part of their lives. That you are one of their close friends. But I am not. I can do it slowly, but do I have the time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched the rerun of Angel and Buffy on cable again. It is still a wonderful series to me, for though its theme may be about vampire, it is also about friendship. Both the series had the lead characters, Angel and Buffy, with thier group of friends, who supported them morally and physically. I wish I have friends like them. What is life without friends? Yes, family is important, but if you gain true friends, they are more valuable if they stick with you through thicks and thins. For they don't have to as they are not bond by blood, but through their friendship with you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship is the hardest to keep, but so easily to lose. But the bond by friendship is a treasure one should never let go if one can help it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The countdown for me continues .... so near yet so far.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-2935072441859503498?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2935072441859503498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/2935072441859503498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-used-to-think-if-i-keep-sending-smses.html' title='Bond by friendship ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-8339904543885889996</id><published>2008-09-03T15:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T15:39:14.085+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My fate to loose</title><content type='html'>I keep quiet and I loose would-be friends. I tell them how I think I loose them too, if they don't accept what I tell them. Both ways, I loose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know what is privacy, it is as important to me as it is to her. All I want is to be kept in touch. As a friend should. Unless I am not that friend as I want myself to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts me that I have made her angry, and the thought of losing her. Why must all those I care don't want anything to do with me? Why can't I have a close friend? I can only dream of one. But I don't want to dream anymore, as each time, the hurt gets worse, as more dreams get dash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is my fate ... haiz .... crying will not help, yet it is the only thing that I can do that will not affect the other person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-8339904543885889996?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8339904543885889996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/8339904543885889996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-fate-to-loose.html' title='My fate to loose'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-5350100879740603271</id><published>2008-09-03T13:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T13:43:15.875+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of butterflies that flew ...</title><content type='html'>It has been postponed, so now I got to wait a few more days. Haiz ... I wanna get it over with as soon as possible, but have no choice, still have to wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The longer I wait, the more I will feel it coming, and the more scared I will be. I feel scared, till I got the call, now I don't feel anything. But I know as the days approaches, I will feel the anxiety of the event. And I will feel the butterflies in my tummy ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder why people coined the phrase "butterflies in the tummy"? Maybe the person had a bad experience when some butterflies flew into his tummy, so he recalled the incident and used that phrase. Somebody liked it and it got passed around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, maybe that was it. Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-5350100879740603271?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5350100879740603271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5350100879740603271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/09/of-butterflies-that-flew.html' title='of butterflies that flew ...'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-617760802370067991</id><published>2008-09-02T17:28:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T18:28:49.583+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Fast .. too furious</title><content type='html'>Okay, I know that fasting only for a short time is as good as not fasting at all. So, I got no merit for fasting this way. Sigh ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do want to fast, but I do feel frustrated that I do not have company when it is time to break the fast, unlike my colleagues who had others sitting together as they broke fast together. I know it is between God and me, but I can't help wanting friends with me when I break fast. Sigh ... again I lose merit with this thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So ... maybe I have the wrong thinking, I don't deserve any merit even if I do a full fasting. I do want to share and experience what the muslim do, even though I may not be a muslim and do not embrace Islam. It all started when I wanted someone to be my close friend, and she is a muslim. I thought I would make a better friend if I can understand the malay. I read about the Prophet and I was awe by Him. I began to want to learn more about him, and about muslim. I bought more books. But the trouble with me was I couldn't sustain reading in long shot, so I read bits by bits, which resulted in me forgetting what I had read before. Haiz ... it was rather frustrating trying to recall what I had read before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I never get her to accept me. But I found someone I admire, the Prophet Muhammed, which got me thinking about fasting when Ramadan came. That was two years ago. I started fasting in a shorter timing, once a while I did longer. The second year was better, with me getting almost a full fast most of the time. But then, I know that I didn't do a real fast, so I shouldn't expect any merit from Him. It was more of a personal endeavour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the while, I was still hoping that she and I could one day be friend, so I could tell her what I did, because she had motivated me, because I wanted to be a real friend to her. And I am still waiting ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to fast, this year as well, but I am not motivated. I don't do it for religion, only my personal effort. So having friends to share when I break my fast, it would have given me more encouragement. I know it is wrong. But I am not religious. I did the fast because it is Ramadan. I feel good when I accomplished the length. But this year, I am feeling the frustration of not having gain anything this past 4 years. I feel that fasting is as empty for me as trying to win any of their friendship. Just as I have given up my effort to win their friendship, I find myself giving up to learn more about Islam. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I still have the desire to fast, more than ever for myself, maybe that is why I fasted several hours on the first and second day. But I don't look for the merit of doing it, I only do it because I want to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I will do it tomorrow, or the next. I can only say that, I still respect Him. And hope I will be forgiven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-617760802370067991?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/617760802370067991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/617760802370067991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/09/to-fast-too-furious.html' title='To Fast .. too furious'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-4465365716484311525</id><published>2008-09-01T04:13:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T17:31:19.191+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to fast ....</title><content type='html'>Happy Fasting, my Muslim friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, I want to, yet I don't want to. I don't feel like fasting this year. I still have admiration and respect for the Prophet. It is just that I don't have the reason for doing it now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haiz ..... I am confused, I don't know what I want anymore .....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-4465365716484311525?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4465365716484311525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/4465365716484311525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/09/time-to-fast.html' title='Time to fast ....'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-335440609618632925</id><published>2008-08-30T22:11:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T22:18:04.531+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What to talk ....</title><content type='html'>Nordiana once said that she got nothing to talk to me about. I don't blame her, of course she would not have, as we don't spend time together, and she would not know what subject that I would want to chat. It is the same with anybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only if people meet often and used to each other would subject matter flow easily. Only if people are together will they be able to know what to talk, as topics will popup without having to think what to talk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spontaneity is the key to friendship.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-335440609618632925?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/335440609618632925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/335440609618632925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-to-talk.html' title='What to talk ....'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1952852841764349418.post-5992412553866581197</id><published>2008-08-26T10:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T10:30:42.752+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of ball and balls</title><content type='html'>Listening to Erti Hidup .... I still feel so emotional when listening to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad the Olympics is over. I hate it when mediacorps replaced all the programmes when there is some games going on, be it football or this time the Olympics. Hey, not everyone is into the games. It is one reason that I hate football, eversince I was younger. I couldn't watch my favourite shows, because it wasn't there, replaced by a silly game of 22 people chasing after a single ball, when all the 22 has two of their own in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I get to club before the month is up? haiz .....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1952852841764349418-5992412553866581197?l=danceal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5992412553866581197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1952852841764349418/posts/default/5992412553866581197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://danceal.blogspot.com/2008/08/of-ball-and-balls.html' title='of ball and balls'/><author><name>danceal</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5g-intJskuc/SMknpd9xOaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/hw5Nn1zLMvQ/S220/profile1_sep.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
