<?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-3633128561618538918</id><updated>2012-02-16T14:04:50.052-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Part Time Waitress Diaries</title><subtitle type='html'>Life, Work, Love, Uni</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-7280033207794650210</id><published>2010-12-21T15:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T16:29:27.707-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dating Scene of a 20YO BBC.</title><content type='html'>And the word 'non existent' pretty much sums it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this post isn't about Real Life, well kind of, but in terms of events, everything I will say is hypothetical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the past few weeks, the love life conversations have cropped up in conversation, most recently with my mother. I don't know about you but any conversation with your mother about love life and the dating scene is pretty daunting, even if you're 40 years old. (Although, if you're 40 and single, I can see why that conversation is a pretty big thing.) But cut that down to half and most people would say that your twenties is pretty much the beginning of the dating scene and most people had a string of relationships and flings by the time they're twenty-two. Not if you're me, 5ft chinese girl who is pretty socially awkward. I'm even shit at romantic scenes, I break the ice with a really unfunny joke/statement. This is pretty much what I do when I meet guys who are there and could be interested in me, I nanny them. I really do, I think this is just a defense mechanism and also a habit I'm used to because I've grown up with two brothers and two male cousins and also being the oldest child. I've ACTUALLY gone up to some guys who were there to 'pull up your trousers, dear.' Yeah, Shameful, I know. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But the look on their faces are priceless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, so my point is, to begin the dating scene is scary. Especially if you're a BBC with a relatively strict chinese family that never really approved of dating up until you were 19. It was about study then-Now, you're chucked into conversations that would've ended like world war three, three years ago. Instead you get the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'well, are you dating? Why not? have you seen any potential guys? Balance, you can't spend all your time working!' &lt;/span&gt;Totally messes with your head or mine at least because I've finally got into the swing of studying and I'm enjoying myself in my studies. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Super Geek!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So going back to the conversations I've had with my mother and close friends. Apparently, the reason I'm not attractive (NB: I don't mean visually- although that could be why...I meant the 'forces' of attraction-I'm not a scifi geek either...) to other guys is because I can give off the fact that I'm 'self assured.' (or 'selfish 21st century generations woman' Take your pick) (NB2: Also in these conversations, my family &amp;amp; friends are specifically talking about east asian guys) Apparently, EA Guys have this thing where they want to be able to 'look after and be able to take care of her' That's their main primitive thought. Pretty simplistic, can't blame them. But REALLY? All I'm hearing is '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't want a girl to get on with her life without a care in world after our relationship ends-hypothetically&lt;/span&gt;' Isn't that just in a twisted roundabout way of saying that they want to leave a girl broken hearted for a REALLY long time? They want a girl who will depend on them and thus their impact will make a indelible mark on ours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is makes me have no faith in the dating scene. Personally, I don't think I can be less self assured, I can be less confident, but less self assured in where I'm going, I don't think so. I don't think I can be less upfront about my strong personality because I'm so used to being relied on, I've waitressed since I was 14, I finally been able to find an academic niche that I can actually get through, I've got some amazing job opportunities in the past. It's weird that to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;get the guys&lt;/span&gt;, according to my mother and my friends, you have to show vulnerability. I get that, but I've worked so hard to get to where I am, I can't afford to show vulnerability. Not even for the dating scene that I'm set to enter. Or am I just confusing vulnerability with femininity, or am I just pointing out the old age adage that is sexism?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know love and work need to be balanced but the fact that someone has to change and usually the woman has to is seriously sexist, does this mean all relationships must be based on a thin line of truth and false? Is that just Asian guys? I know I'm generalising here, but every generalisation also have a pinch of truth in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next post: The 'ideal' guy you should be dating-Mum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-7280033207794650210?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7280033207794650210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=7280033207794650210&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/7280033207794650210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/7280033207794650210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2010/12/dating-scene-of-20yo-bbc.html' title='The Dating Scene of a 20YO BBC.'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-5718366299469589673</id><published>2010-09-19T17:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T17:32:53.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DICKHEAD STAFF.</title><content type='html'>I talk about customer's and family alot in relation to the main focus of this blog, my work life. But here's a new one I'm going to venture into. Arseholes that are your staff. I work for my parents and so the line between normal work employee and self assigned manager is very blurred, it can't be helped. Because, you see, when you've been working in the place since you were 13 and it's your family income, you're going to be worried, because it's an instinct that kicks in. Normal employees don't have that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also there's also a line that some employees like to blur. Unprofessional and Professional. To be professional in any line of job, be it lowly or high paid, means working the full shift unless the boss allows you to go, to be punctual and to do your job. On this occasion, this employee of mine was a driver, his shift ends at 10.30pm, it was a pretty slow monday, so he left at 9.55pm. Also, he has a sportscar (this will come into the story!) a delivery order came in at 10pm. We called him, he was on his way back home, assuming that he sped most of the way already in his flashy sportscar (which couples together with his tough guy 'triad' image-he actually is in the triad) he could easily do the same, on the way back. He didn't get back til 10.30pm and thus only had 10 minutes to make the delivery on time. He EVEN MOVED SLOW WALKING to get the takeaway. and then he decided that me rushing him ( I said-'For the love of God, MOVE YOUR ASS AND DELIVER IT, LIKE NOW') was me with no manners and little boy blue got super pissed (crazy, much?) so he went home after delivering,angry. Obviously I had no idea that the little boy blue with the hard image was pissed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fastforward saturday, he screamed at me and thats when I knew. This was 5 days after the original situation. Woman much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in terms of professionalism-&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, it was unprofessional for him to leave without warning. Yes, it was a slow day, you don't see me closing shop early. secondly, it was more unprofessional by keeping a grudge on such a small thing, and thirdly screaming at me in a busy restaurant is HIGHLY unprofessional. Fourthly, In that scenario, I had to take the role of the superior thus I was justified to tell him to move his ass, so screaming at superiors was again unprofessional. Oh and threatening to bring his chinese mafia cronies to kill me/beat me up-childish and cowardly. I have no respect for the chinese mafia, I think for a bunch of grown men to be dealing drugs and beating people up senselessly, when they're well into their thirties is slightly embarassing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what, his threat? Bring it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't have to live with the fact that I'm killed y'know. He does.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-5718366299469589673?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5718366299469589673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=5718366299469589673&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/5718366299469589673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/5718366299469589673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2010/09/dickhead-staff.html' title='DICKHEAD STAFF.'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-3695892458449440612</id><published>2010-09-04T03:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-04T04:03:23.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Financial security/Love</title><content type='html'>My dad makes my blood BOIL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad: Stop being so moody, you'll never get a boyfriend&lt;br /&gt;Me: Don't need one&lt;br /&gt;Dad: how about getting a house, it'll take one person ages to get a house&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, I'm not waiting around for a man so that i can get a house, I'm going try earn what I can, I don't necessarily need a guy. (if we're talking financially)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Urgh. What is it with men and this whole idea that women NEED them for financial security. It'd be nice to have some but seriously 21st fucking century people. I can pave my own way in life and I intend to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-3695892458449440612?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3695892458449440612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=3695892458449440612&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3695892458449440612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3695892458449440612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-dad-makes-my-blood-boil.html' title='Financial security/Love'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-8338406812113176227</id><published>2010-08-05T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T16:54:31.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday Secrets</title><content type='html'>I didn't tell you the reason why I wanted to leave home after graduating, I know it would mean better financial security for me, but emotionally, I'd be a wreck. I'm grateful for everything since you are my parents but some things just need to be done. If I stay, I'm scared I'll manage to become like i did before, i'd be the insecure 14 year old trapped in a twenty something body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selfish, I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-8338406812113176227?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8338406812113176227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=8338406812113176227&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/8338406812113176227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/8338406812113176227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2010/08/thursday-secrets.html' title='Thursday Secrets'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-6785727003007019441</id><published>2010-04-11T14:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T14:45:07.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lets get back on track..</title><content type='html'>....and follow the main aim of this blog, to share my thoughts and rants about what being a waitress is, although this is slightly marred by the fact that I work as a waitress for my parents, which leads me onto today's topic- Working for one's family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working with family is the most stressful thing you can ever endure. Okay, not the most stressful, I guess to be pc about it, it's quite stressful (seeing as I have no knowledge at all about office politics!) You scream and shout at them to do their thing and vice versa, and when you get home, you do talk about work, as you do with your colleagues. And suddenly, your whole family life revolves around work. You also can't be bitchy about them working because there's a mutual understanding, so some things are left unsaid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to write more, But I can't think of anything else. Good points to this: You do have an understanding of each other. But there is ZERO work privacy, which is why I can't live with my family, not out of spite (I do love them, despite their unreasonable demands and whinings and love they give, contradictive, I know.), but seriously, I need my freakin' privacy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-6785727003007019441?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6785727003007019441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=6785727003007019441&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/6785727003007019441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/6785727003007019441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2010/04/lets-get-back-on-track.html' title='Lets get back on track..'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-1409015678286664308</id><published>2010-02-25T16:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T16:17:14.922-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilty VS SHIT</title><content type='html'>opinions appreciated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you rather...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;feel guilty because someone guilt-tripped you into doing a favour for them and you refuse to abide by them but you've stood up for yourself [even though its a harsh thing to do]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;OR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;abide by their requests but end up feeling shit and disappointed at yourself. (because even if you know its the right thing to do for them but you always always always do this and feel like shit everytime and you're disappointed because you feel like you can't stand up for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, there is an event on saturday that has been organised for ages and i really want to go, because I'm 20 and it's my life. I already let people know that i couldn't work on that day and people were fine with it. However, my dad called and told me i had to work because i was a supposed to be standby and basically guilt-tripped me by putting an insane amount of pressure on me-&lt;br /&gt;' I'LL CLOSE THE RESTAURANT ON SATURDAY THEN, SINCE WE DON'T HAVE ENOUGH WORKERS'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when they put that kind of pressure on me, THATS NOT FAIR, I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THE SCAPEGOAT FOR EVERYTHING THE RESTAURANT IS. but he's my parent, what am i supposed to say? I just don't want to be tied down by obligations like that, especially just because i'm born into it. I didn't ask for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do i be the bad daughter, but do right for me? or do i be the good daughter and end up feeling shit and disappointed because it gives them reason to do it again and again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-1409015678286664308?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1409015678286664308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=1409015678286664308&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/1409015678286664308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/1409015678286664308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2010/02/guilty-vs-shit.html' title='Guilty VS SHIT'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-3056312171498360250</id><published>2010-02-05T07:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T07:55:43.293-08:00</updated><title type='text'>who actually reads my makeup blog</title><content type='html'>I am holding a giveaway on my blog, and i've accumulated ALOT of attention for it, but i can't help but feel apprehensive about it, because i know all these people [only few are actually beauty bloggers] are in it for the freebies, and not actually reading my posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may not be the best blogger, but i do put alot of effort writing my posts on blogger, i put my heart and soul and edit it as well as i can and it kinda hurts to know that not many people read my blog. they join one time and thats it. I just feel taken advantage of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-3056312171498360250?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3056312171498360250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=3056312171498360250&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3056312171498360250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3056312171498360250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2010/02/who-actually-reads-my-makeup-blog.html' title='who actually reads my makeup blog'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-4548775597727599710</id><published>2010-01-16T17:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T17:40:09.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>scapegoat + haiti</title><content type='html'>Firstly, I'd like to express my sorrows for the earthquake that hit Haiti, my problems can never compare to theirs. Please donate, even a little helps!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.redcross.org.uk/standard.asp?id=102184"&gt; BRITISH RED CROSS &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm back at uni and living off campus with housemates will never be a smooth road. Especially with 4 girls. This time, it's the boiler, and housemates getting the hump with each other over..well...each other. =/ I'm not involved in this. I made a resolution last christmas and this new year to &lt;br /&gt;1. Stop Bitchin' &lt;br /&gt;2. To not mention/ or defend/go against anyone of my housemates- ultimately i will not be involved emotionally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. the second one flew out the window, and none of it is my doing. I got back to a freezing cold house and found the door to our bathroom locked, where our central heating is located, because my letting agent, being the douchebags they are accidentally locked it. They thought it was a bedroom. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I then had to sleep under 6 layers of clothes, including my coat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesson learned: Our letting agent is, to put crudely, an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So If you've been following me on twitter, my status have been about the heating. =/ When i got to the boiler, i naturally switched it on, and my housemate had put it on frost control so it wouldn't waste heating. I got that. Being alone, and no idea on heating appliances, it wouldn't heat up- I was pretty stumped. Not surprising, i'm a female history student. one of my housemates suggested that maybe the pipes had frozen= we've had snow and BAD temperatures for a while in the UK. So i get that she thought that way. Frost control housemate's dad + housemate thought the other was pointing out that they were wrong to put it on frost control. and got mad. And they called me on my mobile and had a go at me 'The boiler + pipes aren't frozen, blah blah' It wasn't even my housemate who called, it was her dad. and then he ended with' and tell [the other housemate] to stop attacking my daughter. He said all this in an angry tone. Apparently my housemate allowed him to that. and then left him to it. I'm sorry, if you're letting your dad talk to your friend/housemate, you would stand over him and listen in.' she didn't and thus I was pretty upset about what i did, because i am the &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;scapegoat&lt;/span&gt; here. I at least expected an apology for his attitude to me by text.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, lets put this in perspective, I only got back to a cold house, and stayed in A FREEZING COLD HOUSE for a night and a half. I AM THE FREAKING VICTIM. I DON'T NEED ANYONE TELLING ME WHOSE WRONG, AS LONG AS IT STARTS WORKING NORMALLY AGAIN, IM TOTALLY FINE. I DON'T CARE WHO THE FUCK IS WRONG. I HAVE A 3O00 WORD ESSAY DUE ON MONDAY, IM STRESSED.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then her dad has the audacity to tell me today when they got back that I/WE WAS WRONG...AGAIN. whilst i'm writing my essay, even though i clearly said 'yeah, I'm doing my essay!'  which is pretty much a polite way of saying 'GET THE FUCK OUT MY ROOM, I NEED TO CONCENTRATE.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even get a sincere apology, i had to ask her about it. I'm fine now because i talked to her, I just needed to get this off my chest because if i don't. i will bitch and things will end badly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-4548775597727599710?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4548775597727599710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=4548775597727599710&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/4548775597727599710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/4548775597727599710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/scapegoat-haiti.html' title='scapegoat + haiti'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-1099544058313786520</id><published>2009-12-17T16:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T16:31:02.527-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Religion</title><content type='html'>although title sounds like a really controversial complex subject and if you're thinking its going to be a heavy post. it's not going to be at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't specifically want to put Christianity, but thats what this post is mainly about. Firstly, I'd like to admit, I am not a Christian, nor do I follow any religion. I've noticed that there are lots of Chinese christians though, there's even a chinese christian fellowship in my university town, which really surprised me, well not really surprised, i found out about them last year when they shoved a xmas gathering invite in my hand because they saw that i was chinese. To be honest, the name made me laugh, it evoked memories of lord of the rings. I guess my point here is- I didn't realise Church was such a big thing for chinese students because all the friend i have, i never really go into the subject of religion, it just never came up and nor would i like to bring it up because it's not my preference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up without having any sort of religion forced upon me, this is talking in terms of my parents. Of course i had outside influence, i went to a church of england school that did have rare trips to the church [e.g lent] and the occasional barmy religious aunt. My parents, however, did not force any religion on me, and I'm glad they didn't. my dad was far too cynical and my mother, far too busy. We never had time to think and life just passed by peacefully. A lot of people found help in God, but we've never found the need for god, because my parents work so hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-1099544058313786520?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1099544058313786520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=1099544058313786520&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/1099544058313786520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/1099544058313786520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/12/religion.html' title='Religion'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-7814201374540428539</id><published>2009-11-27T15:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T15:47:17.558-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Defining the term 'Oriental'</title><content type='html'>Oriental is the term used in Britain do define anyone of east asian descent- be it chinese, korean, japanese, taiwanese etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are huge differences in the usage of terms across geographical places, such as America and Britain, and call me a traitor but I prefer the Asian American train of thought so much more than that of the British. Asian Americans view the term as offensive and derogatory and I don't blame them, because it just rings heavily of colonialism. In this modern world, it is not at all correct to cling onto that part of history. Furthermore, as a history student, the term brings back memories of learning about the study of Orientalism, a term that defines and points out the flaws of historiographical evidence and research of Asia. The definition being that research about asia and the whatever asian countries they visited was purely a reflection on the colonialism and civilisation of their own civilisation-that of europe, the states and all things in between. I'm pretty sure that's not a good thing to be calling someone oriental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand why British people are not making this term to be racist. the oxford dictionary states that it is '&lt;span class="nim"&gt;&lt;span class="nim"&gt;a person from China, Japan or other countries in E Asia' and is 'OFTEN offensive' last updated 2005. 'often'? shouldn't it be always?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-7814201374540428539?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7814201374540428539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=7814201374540428539&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/7814201374540428539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/7814201374540428539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/defining-term-oriental.html' title='Defining the term &apos;Oriental&apos;'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-128364834810523164</id><published>2009-11-03T03:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T04:05:46.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>running, flying, independence</title><content type='html'>I run, when I feel pressured&lt;br /&gt;I run, when i get bored&lt;br /&gt;I run, when I can't take it anymore&lt;br /&gt;I run, from my family&lt;br /&gt;I run, from my friends&lt;br /&gt;I run, in the metaphorical sense of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't intentionally run, of course. I ran from home to uni, whereas most of my british chinese friends kipped at home, and their uni was in london. I was so adamant in running, i made sure i didn't choose any london unis in my ucas choice list. That was the beginning of my habit of running away. I felt pressured if i was near parents and family friends, and i couldn't do that to myself anymore. I run from life's problems. I run from friends, which i don't intentionally do so, but I forget to call/ring because I don't find the time. i have the time, but i don't find it. =/ I also run when i get bored, i can't stay in one place for a long period of time, i much prefer to be independent and see the world for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im a bird. trying to fly. or so i think. and im not ready to give up running yet. Im enjoying it far too much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-128364834810523164?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/128364834810523164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=128364834810523164&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/128364834810523164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/128364834810523164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/11/running-flying-independence.html' title='running, flying, independence'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-3136251191091614994</id><published>2009-09-17T19:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T19:33:24.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NEW HOUSE BLUES</title><content type='html'>I'm having one of those depressing moments, when you feel like it wasn't worth it to move into a shared house, we have so much stuff to sort out, like bills, I AM CONSTANTLY giving out money to this place and its kinda sucking me dry, I really need to sort out a budget plan, but thing is, I don't have enough money to sort out a budget plan, I don't know when money comes through because i'm relying so much on my parents. siggh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having new house blues, where it's starting to hit me the reality of a shared house, like before, if i didn't want to deal with anyone, I didn't have to, i had my own apartment away from everyone in parkwood student village. My other three flatmates are USED to each other because they stayed in the same halls last year, so for me, it's REALLY hard to get into it, they all seem so close and also they don't piss each other off as much. Im feeling like I'm going to piss them off at one point and then it will be them against me because i'm pretty much the outsider here [because i lived in different halls last year]. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my flatmates, they are long time friends, but i haven't LIVED with them before, and i'm just pretty much scared by the thought of that. Plus i've found little things that are starting to bug me, like their food habits, I feel like i can't cook what I want because sometimes they are really fussy with food, like fish, I LOVE FISH, all i want to eat is fish, but they all have a fear of fish, like what it looks like and the smell. Same with seafood. Plus I'm a foodie, i fear no weird foods. They even find the thought of pigeon weird, whereas to me, I've been to a few restaurants that serve it, so it's pretty normal to me. I feel like if i do cook it, they'll say something bad about it, and when they do, that puts me off my food because i find it just rude to be narrowminded and fussy about food. call me a food snob but thats who i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, when they lived together last year, they formed a group of friends with some other people, that i still don't feel very close to. Maybe I'm not a great conversationist but it's still painful to feel left out. I know them but not great friends, there's still a gap between us and I'm 19, it's so hard to make friends, the older you get. Sometimes, because i feel so awkward, i can't actually be bothered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ah sigh, maybe I'm just PMSing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-3136251191091614994?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3136251191091614994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=3136251191091614994&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3136251191091614994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3136251191091614994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/09/new-house-blues.html' title='NEW HOUSE BLUES'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-8814323044355070817</id><published>2009-09-06T14:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-06T14:26:42.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'>cuteness overload</title><content type='html'>we got my two year old cousin his first lego set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s118.photobucket.com/albums/o111/waiyinyin/?action=view&amp;current=Photo0065.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o111/waiyinyin/Photo0065.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-8814323044355070817?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8814323044355070817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=8814323044355070817&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/8814323044355070817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/8814323044355070817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/09/cuteness-overload.html' title='cuteness overload'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-3449311658038014150</id><published>2009-08-30T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T09:39:50.786-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when did saturdays die?</title><content type='html'>seriously, saturday's business has dropped EPICLY this summer in my restaurant. No one wants chinese food anymore =/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-3449311658038014150?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3449311658038014150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=3449311658038014150&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3449311658038014150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3449311658038014150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/when-did-saturdays-die.html' title='when did saturdays die?'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-4391256538931673690</id><published>2009-08-12T18:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T18:14:50.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mr Killer Smile</title><content type='html'>There are days when you're feeling not that great at work and something comes in and makes your day. Cue mr killer smile. So here i was waiting for customers and this guy walks in, not that great looking and he asks if we have any jobs going, so i ask for his cv, he hasn't got one, and then i remembered my dad takes phone numbers anyways for potential workers, so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'You know what, stick your name and number down and we'll call you' I said&lt;br /&gt;and he SMILES. Ohmygod. It WAS LIKE THE SUNSHINEEE. That instantly made him cuter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forget eyes, a great smile is what one needs on a dreary day. Perhaps this could be the weapon we need for our sushi bar, a waiter with an AMAZING smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr Killer smile definately made my day. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-4391256538931673690?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4391256538931673690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=4391256538931673690&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/4391256538931673690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/4391256538931673690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/mr-killer-smile.html' title='mr Killer Smile'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-2656595852999111986</id><published>2009-08-09T17:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T17:23:20.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prank calls</title><content type='html'>Has anyone watched that channel 4 programme called FONEJACKER. it's the most hilarious thing i've seen, and theres always a prank call to a restaurant, which always remind me of some of the prank calls i've had at my restaurant. Clearly juvenile and always guys, what is it with guys that think prank calling a chinese restaurant for an 'onion bhaji' in an indian voice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly, if you're indian, you can make your own onion bhaji, and just because we're a chinese restaurant doesn't mean we have a CHINESY accent. It's especially fun when they do that and you say 'alright luv!' in a really british way and there's silence down the line. ANDD they're always laughing at the beginning, so you know its a prank call. =_= I mean, at least keep a straight face, I may be of foreign blood but I ain't stupid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-2656595852999111986?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2656595852999111986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=2656595852999111986&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/2656595852999111986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/2656595852999111986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/phonecalls.html' title='Prank calls'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-3443994263250599933</id><published>2009-07-17T14:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T14:25:18.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks for saying it aloud</title><content type='html'>Don't you jsut hate it when you get those naiive friends/ relatives that don't know the meaning of too much information? Or the ones that never shut up. You love them and you hate them at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a friend like that. I've known her for years but she moved away to New Zealand a few years back and now she's back to visit me. =) So we're in a restaurant ( My parent's) and she'll shout over the table to wave at other customers or strike up a conversation. She's a lovable personality but then she turns around and says i talk to her too loud. Then i take off my cardigan because it's a little warm and she loudly says&lt;br /&gt;' YOU HAVEN'T SHAVED',&lt;br /&gt;'shush'&lt;br /&gt;other table 'I heard that'&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to die, I spent the whole night is a fucking facepalm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's things you don't say out aloud L.&lt;br /&gt;I love you but you're so fucking naiive with conversation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-3443994263250599933?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3443994263250599933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=3443994263250599933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3443994263250599933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3443994263250599933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/thanks-for-saying-it-aloud.html' title='Thanks for saying it aloud'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-5195544796161634756</id><published>2009-07-16T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T17:40:05.162-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY NEIGHBOUR WANTS HIS PENIS CHOPPED OFF.</title><content type='html'>I HATE MY NEIGHBOUR&lt;br /&gt;MY INTERNET IS NOW FUCKED BECAUSE OF HIM.&lt;br /&gt;HE TAMPERS WITH THE PHONE LINES BECAUSE HE'S EXTENDING HIS, FUCKS MINE UP, COMES OVER TO APOLOGISE, BUT THEN &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FUCKING PALMS IT OFF AS OUR WIRES BEING CRAP.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW FUCKING DARE YOU CLAIM IT'S MY FAULT.&lt;br /&gt;MY NET WAS PERFECTLY FINE, BUT NOW IT DISCONNECTS EVERY 5 MINUTES.&lt;br /&gt;YEAH, OF COURSE IT WAS MY OWN WIRES.&lt;br /&gt;AND THEN THE FUCKING LOSER OFFERS TO FIX IT.&lt;br /&gt;I SMELL RAT-FUCKED IT UP TO GET ££££.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GAH, HE SERIOUSLY HAS A DEATH WISH.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-5195544796161634756?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5195544796161634756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=5195544796161634756&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/5195544796161634756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/5195544796161634756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-neighbour-wants-his-penis-chopped.html' title='MY NEIGHBOUR WANTS HIS PENIS CHOPPED OFF.'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-1259357978142366330</id><published>2009-06-23T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T11:53:23.407-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The waitress diaries, VOL.1</title><content type='html'>I realise that this blog is not only my place to release negative emotions at myself but also other people, mostly people i see at work, customers and staff that really make my blood boil. So like the nanny diaries, I'm starting to form this into one that i can relate to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE WAITRESS DIARIES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As some of you may know, I work as a waitress at my parents restaurant, amongst other things i do for them. Waitressing is the single most horrible job in the universe. Yes it's rewarding but 90% of the time, you want to strangle the customers, or your colleagues. mainly customers, which brings me to my next point, volume 1 focuses on CUSTOMERS, the bane of our existance and simultaneously, also the pain in our arse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depending on what restaurant you open, you get different types of customers. simple, yes? I work part time at the sushi bar occasionally, and yes, we are chinese people that opened a japanese sushi bar. Shoot me. No, we don't give a fuck that we're chinese and we're serving japanese food, because like any person, we're trying to make a living and at the time japanese was popular, it still is, just not in our town, we soon found out. Here, we also find customers that are STUPIDLY naiive about business. for example, they'll come in and ask whether we, the waitresses that SERVE food are chinese or japanese. we say the truth-chinese, these &lt;strike&gt;cunts&lt;/strike&gt; customers immediately judge and turn away from the sushi bar. WHAT THE EFF. what the fricking eff is wrong with you, FYI you nasty little judgemental fucking bitches, your favourite sushi chains such as yo sushi, was even founded by a british WHITE dude. Wasabi, another chain is run by korean and wagamama was founded by a chinese dude. FACT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like them, we don't give a fuck, we just want $$$$$$. sounds selfish, but thats the way the world turns. you are seriously deluded if you think people open restaurants for the nice feeling... Restaurants are their lifesource, of course they're gona be fucking selfish. it's business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have customers that think that they can treat us anyway they want, and they treat the staff really badly because they're not british. we employ from china mainly in the chinese restaurants and they're not great at english, but all they're trying to do is trying to understand what you want. No need to be rude. If you think the service is bad because of that, its because YOU treated us badly first. Big tip; be nice to the waiting staff, they're some seriously stressed bitchy people and they get nasty. [BEWAAARREEE]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-1259357978142366330?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1259357978142366330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=1259357978142366330&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/1259357978142366330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/1259357978142366330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/waitress-diaries-vol1.html' title='The waitress diaries, VOL.1'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-7253151128672508637</id><published>2009-06-18T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T14:57:29.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DRIVING. gaaah</title><content type='html'>I booked another driving lesson with another instructor tomorrow. I think I'm more scared than when i first started. I am SO FRICKIN' scared of driving. When i think about it, my heart beats really quickly and i hyperventilate. I am a bad driver, and i have proof of that, in the form of my last epicly failed driving test. I know I'm a bad driver and i keep thinking other people are going to laugh at me, I'm going to be the butt of people's jokes again. I always am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant drive, I hat to drive and i'm still so freaking scared.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-7253151128672508637?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7253151128672508637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=7253151128672508637&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/7253151128672508637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/7253151128672508637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/driving-gaaah.html' title='DRIVING. gaaah'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-4844688390914331744</id><published>2009-06-16T16:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T16:56:53.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Sweet Home</title><content type='html'>I'm home, Uni's finally finished! I love being home, I'm elated to see my family again, but sometimes, they really grate on me. I know, it's been less than a day since i got back home and i gotta stay for a few months at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, Dad, the first words you say to me 'is how was your exam, i bet you failed because you went clubbing too much-thats the reason why you didn't come home?' WHAT THE EFF. I was only gone for 4 weeks, and the only place i went was town to see off international friends for lunch and one night at the summer ball. If you missed seeing me, in those 4 weeks, just say so, Don't be so damn spiteful. Saying i'll drop out because i didn't study because i went out is wrong. I have my own study plans, I'm freaking 19, I know you're paying for my studies, but I'm not as bad as you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats the thing, Everyone back home always ALWAYS think I'm worse than I am, and when i start believing that, I fall, crack, collapse in the worst way possible. It was the same with A levels, driving. One girl passed judgement on me before knowing anything, and in driving, everyone would joke how bad i was when they never saw me drive. I know, sticks and stones, but I'll admit, I'm not strong enough to deal with your judgements, I'm easily swayed by words, thats why i love reading. In reality, it's the worst trait possible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The consequence, I seem to play down who i am now. I can't pinpoint any of my strong features. I've lost that girlish confidence inside. I get anxious when someone points out a flaw [e.g: personality, weight gain etc] I'm scared of my flaws.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-4844688390914331744?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4844688390914331744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=4844688390914331744&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/4844688390914331744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/4844688390914331744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/home-sweet-home.html' title='Home Sweet Home'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-2223099740486819507</id><published>2009-06-05T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T09:18:50.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sociopaths</title><content type='html'>So, mid-exam period. Nothing to do, because my next exam isn't until a week or so and being alone with only the 4 walls around me for company, I began to think. I thought alot in the past week or so, mainly my downfalls and thoughts and confusions that have plagued me ever since sixth form. Since i was 16. Most notably; Miss N.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss N was a girl who i used to be good friends with prior to being 16. She was in my classes at school and she was charming, smart, A grades, beautiful. She seemed genuinely like a nice girl. Oh how wrong I was. I was never great at seeing through people's facades. A flaw about myself which gets me hurt every friggin' time. When we were in GCSE, we virtually had the same subjects and in the summer of 2006, I introduced her to my then-boyfriend. Betch suddenly turns on me. very sublety. She basically flirted with him and boys minds wander. I expected it to. but she made sure i knew about it. At that point, I was 16, boys were just boys, relationship wasn't deep so, we broke up and i thought that now that she got what she wanted, she would stop making me feel bad. It didn't&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the next few months, she continued to annoy me, like saying how her other friends thought i wasn't hard working  and they didn't know me. Why the fuck would you tell that to your friend if you know it will make them feel bad? everytime i talked to someone, she would butt in and take over the conversation, she would make friends with my friends. At one point, I would listen to a lot of indie, japanese and chinese music and she would too. She was trying to take over my identity, well cover it up. I wasn't pleased, didn't say a word. I got really bad grades that year, I guess i was depressed, but i didn't know it. I would eat to feel better. On results day, she saw i was crying over my results and bounded up to me full of life-'Oh yinnie, what did you get, I got all A's'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally realised, despite being less attractive, less brainy, less popular than her, I was still her target because when i didn't care, it seemed like i LET her win. She wanted to win fair and square. No one suspected that she was victimising me because she was so nice. It was so well deceptive. It was a totally horrible feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, i read up on psychological bullying because it really bothered me. Her traits match up 95% to being a sociopath. She has not real feelings, she victimises to win and thats her personality. I was kind of shocked because i didn't think such complex people existed. I had been a victim of sociopathological bullying and i don't like it one bit. I hate that these types of people are around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-2223099740486819507?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2223099740486819507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=2223099740486819507&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/2223099740486819507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/2223099740486819507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/sociopaths.html' title='Sociopaths'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-3062869364555174731</id><published>2009-05-31T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T19:51:51.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Been ill</title><content type='html'>I think this has turned into a blog outlet for my negative feelings, feelings deep down inside of me that i don't want anyone to see, the darker side of my emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been ill recently, so everything has taken a back seat atm, i got a finals paper in a few days. I'm not too worried about it. Whilst taking a back seat on my life, i can reflect and reflecting is usually a bad thing for me, i don't have anything really to look forward to, as in long term goal. I'm just chugging away doing nothing, getting nothing. it frustrates me. Again, a certain figure pops up to rub it in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't mind flying away, running away by myself to start a new life. the only thing is, I don't have anything bad to run away from. I have lovely parents, family, a great uni, doing okay at studies. I would have loved this last year. this would have been enough. But atm, for me, its not enough, but i don't know what that thing is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-3062869364555174731?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3062869364555174731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=3062869364555174731&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3062869364555174731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/3062869364555174731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/been-ill.html' title='Been ill'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-6283187648813405683</id><published>2009-05-21T05:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T05:26:26.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EPIC FAIL</title><content type='html'>I failed my first driving test today. EPIC-LY.&lt;br /&gt;2 dangerous 1 serious and 9 minors. I think that's a world record.&lt;br /&gt;I might sound cheery but i'm so far from it. Seriously, DID I HAVE TO FAIL THAT BADLY. What the fuck is wrong with me. I'm just not born to drive. and the examiner was such a nice guy as well, I felt sorry for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck it, I'm done with manual, You've got about 10 million things to keep in your head, plus normal reality to think of, like essay deadlines. I'm driving automatic. Less hassle. GAH. I hate myself for failing, so epic-ly aswell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-6283187648813405683?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6283187648813405683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=6283187648813405683&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/6283187648813405683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/6283187648813405683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/epic-fail.html' title='EPIC FAIL'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-4668176741020039103</id><published>2009-05-13T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T15:29:53.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>facebook: for making us feel unsuccessful.</title><content type='html'>I realise i should probably keep in contact with my old group alot more than i should have, BUT I'M SO DAMN LAZY. I know a 'Hi How are you doing?' will suffice, but when i think back to them, they remind me of high school days. Don't get me wrong, I loved my high school days, just I haven't felt the need to reminisce stuff that happened a year ago. I'm not old enough for that. =) Also, I did try, but I did lose my phone way back in january and lost EVERYONE'S NUMBERS. Facebook is cool too, but I'm lazy to click a few buttons as well. Nothing personal against them, and I feel guilty, and if i do it now, its cuz i feel guilty, I want to be able to greet them like i mean it, not because it's right to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the subject of facebook, That news feed you get is the most nosiest thing ever. You get to see what your friends are up to, and also how people from your high school that you never liked are doing. I have a whole load of those. Especially one, I don't hate her, but her personality really doesn't appeal to me. It's partially because she broke our trust at close friends with her jealousy. She didn't have to be jealous, she was still better than me at everything, which to this day, I still don't get. I guess the girl has got some serious psychological problem. Well Miss N [let's leave it at that.] is happily doing well, has a ticket to oxford university, is gona be a doctor and is gona travel South east asia spreading her goddamn smiles around. She's gona do the world of good, because ever since her genius popped up at 5 years old, thats what she's meant to do. and she's gona get more beautiful than she already is and have an intelligent degree under her belt and i wouldn't be surprised is she did become a superstar with a herd of men behind her every step. And yes, who wouldn't be jealous? I know i am because I'm just the average jo-..sephine. The one that will graduate with a 2nd and go on to do an average job in a company, starting from the bottom and will find it incredibly hard to find a nice guy. I don't mind a normal life, but thank you facebook for rubbing in my face that i will never be as successful in life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-4668176741020039103?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4668176741020039103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=4668176741020039103&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/4668176741020039103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/4668176741020039103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/facebook-for-making-us-feel.html' title='facebook: for making us feel unsuccessful.'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-2244526974943268066</id><published>2009-05-11T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T14:38:38.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A letter to my 16 year old self</title><content type='html'>I was relistening to The all american rejects earlier on, and a flood of memories of my 16- year old self came back to me. At the time, I loved Pop-rock and all that shiz and was seriously backward about the world. I look back now, and if i had the chance, I would say so much to that young 16-year old girl back then. So here's my letter to the 16-year old Wai Yin Chung.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dear, 16 year old me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hi, I'm writing 3 years on from you right now. You're so carefree and so confident in yourself, and my first advice to you is that, don't lose that inner confidence, don't let a certain guy rock your confidence about who you are. Don't let people you don't know rock your confidence. I know it hurts, but you're so much better than that. Even if you don't do as well, it's not the end of the world. There are so many options. DO NOT TRY TO BE A DOCTOR. You weren't cut out for science, honey! Focus on your strengths, the humanities! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;secondly, you know that guy you're dating? It won't last long, and you'll get bored easily, You're that kind of person and its okay to be like that. Furthermore, a 16 year old is not suppose to handle, school, work and a relationship. thats too much for one girl. You can dump him, just say it, don't keep living in blind hope! It won't happen. I can say this, you're a strong person, You'll hide your emotions for the first few weeks until you forget about it, don't dwell on it. He's not worth it. Don't hide from him afterwards either, He's a nice guy regardless. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lastly, I'd like to say that, Life is what you make it, not your parents. Live a little, Don't hide in your shell. Life is for living. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'll write again soon. x&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-2244526974943268066?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2244526974943268066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=2244526974943268066&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/2244526974943268066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/2244526974943268066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/letter-to-my-16-year-old-self.html' title='A letter to my 16 year old self'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3633128561618538918.post-5965882105134076513</id><published>2009-04-25T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T19:25:23.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>26th April 09</title><content type='html'>This is my personal private blog, a place for me to vent without any discretions, to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like i need these because i've realised that in myself, I hide my personality too much. I don't think many people know the real me, not even my closest friends. Only me. I'm not always the happy go lucky optimistic girl with no troubles. Im far from that, I can be negative, pessimistic and i'm scared that i'll never find my niche in life. I don't seem to have any sort of talents or anything i'm 'good' at either and it's getting to me. It really is. Everyone seems to have something they're good at, and usually they seem to get normal stuff that i can't seem to be able to understand, like driving. Alot of people i know passed it easily, But then theres me, stuck in a rut. I don't like driving but i kinda know i have to learn. I lack the motivation and i know that. I'm just not a very motivated person. I try to be but deep down inside i know that even if i muster up all my strength and all that gusto, I will never get it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been really pissy with customers too as well, and tbh i really think its from that call last week from a certain customer that reported me. I just think that I can't do anything right. or well for that matter. Not as well as other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gah I should stop thinking like this, but these thoughts have plagued me for years, if its not one situation, its another and its all the same concept, I don't feel good enough. I never am, but i keep trying and fighting a dying game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3633128561618538918-5965882105134076513?l=yinniesblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5965882105134076513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3633128561618538918&amp;postID=5965882105134076513&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/5965882105134076513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3633128561618538918/posts/default/5965882105134076513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://yinniesblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/26th-april-09.html' title='26th April 09'/><author><name>Yin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02296356188537269771</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GntSiEdq9P0/Tk04ibNox2I/AAAAAAAAAcE/NiQ74BIB-Y8/s220/Photo%2B5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
