<?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-2787610717643658197</id><updated>2011-04-22T13:24:45.332+08:00</updated><category term='face'/><category term='mood swing'/><category term='age'/><category term='Baby'/><category term='Sex'/><title type='text'>(not so) Dirty Thirty</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>(not so) Dirty Thirty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05466741381797943186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2787610717643658197.post-4853921296196012894</id><published>2009-02-17T11:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T11:06:42.189+08:00</updated><title type='text'>it's funny</title><content type='html'>how i am feeling like a young girl after such a long time. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2787610717643658197-4853921296196012894?l=jodirtythirty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/feeds/4853921296196012894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2787610717643658197&amp;postID=4853921296196012894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/4853921296196012894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/4853921296196012894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-funny.html' title='it&apos;s funny'/><author><name>(not so) Dirty Thirty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05466741381797943186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2787610717643658197.post-5475925352807849849</id><published>2008-10-29T14:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T14:26:33.078+08:00</updated><title type='text'>30 skills every woman should know before she turns 30</title><content type='html'>yeah i know, i'm just 3 days after 30 hee.&lt;br /&gt;so lets see how i score!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Hard boil an egg&lt;br /&gt;Pass. (just let the egg boil till it cracks is my safest bet. lol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Diplomatically tell Mom to butt-out&lt;br /&gt;Failed. Too rude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Ace a job interview&lt;br /&gt;Pass. I'm in a job now, trying to get out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Ask a man out&lt;br /&gt;Pass. But I need to find more man now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Send a thoughtful thank you note&lt;br /&gt;Pass. If email counts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Listen to a friend in need&lt;br /&gt;Pass. And you were saying?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Ask for help&lt;br /&gt;Pass. Always ask if you need help right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Effectively end an unhealthy relationship (romantic or platonic in nature)&lt;br /&gt;Pass. With flying colors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Beautifully wrap a gift&lt;br /&gt;Pass. I'm not too bad at craft work too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Say “no” gracefully&lt;br /&gt;Pass. NOOOOOOOOO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Whip up a great dinner with the five items in her fridge&lt;br /&gt;Pass. to me. i enjoyed the dinner myself, and i felt great! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Forget pleasing him&lt;br /&gt;Pass!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Sew a button&lt;br /&gt;Pass. not a pretty one, but button stays on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Mix a kick-ass cocktail&lt;br /&gt;Pass. my lychee martini was so strong that it kicked my own arse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Take off her bra without removing her shirt&lt;br /&gt;Pass. please, we're born talent with this one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Apply lip gloss in the dark&lt;br /&gt;Pass. Lipstick works too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Balance her checkbook&lt;br /&gt;Failed. Balance shopping bags perhaps?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Create a budget&lt;br /&gt;Pass. If i actually start one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Find the best deal&lt;br /&gt;Pass. ALWAYS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Negotiate a salary and/or pay raise&lt;br /&gt;Pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Read a map&lt;br /&gt;Pass. i am actually quite good at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Hail a cab&lt;br /&gt;Pass. Will kill anyone in the path&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Say something in French just for the hell of it&lt;br /&gt;Bonjour!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Apologize when she’s wrong&lt;br /&gt;Pass. I know when to admit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Dress for her body type&lt;br /&gt;Pass. Unless you think otherwise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Change a flat (or know whom to call to come change it)&lt;br /&gt;Pending. i dont own a car. ha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Spot a fake (handbag, diamond, potential friend…)&lt;br /&gt;Pass. you know, shopping helps build up skills like these&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Feign interest&lt;br /&gt;Pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Know what to tip on a $25 dinner bill&lt;br /&gt;Pass. If their service's good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Hold a baby&lt;br /&gt;Pass. but they're all not mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's your score?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2787610717643658197-5475925352807849849?l=jodirtythirty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/feeds/5475925352807849849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2787610717643658197&amp;postID=5475925352807849849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/5475925352807849849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/5475925352807849849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/2008/10/30-skills-every-woman-should-know.html' title='30 skills every woman should know before she turns 30'/><author><name>(not so) Dirty Thirty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05466741381797943186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2787610717643658197.post-6939814054356094892</id><published>2008-10-29T10:45:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T11:10:02.145+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Date.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; date1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;noun, verb, dat⋅ed, dat⋅ing.&lt;br /&gt;–noun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;7. a social appointment, engagement, or occasion arranged beforehand with another person: to go out on a date on Saturday night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2 single people met for the first time – date&lt;br /&gt;2 single people met for the first time, click well, met again – second date&lt;br /&gt;2 single people met for the first time, click well, met again, held hands – sweet date&lt;br /&gt;2 single people met for the first time, click well, met again, held hands, had sex – hot date&lt;br /&gt;2 single people met for the first time, click well, met again, held hands, had sex, had more sex – dirty date&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, at which point do we&lt;br /&gt;a) consider we’re (still) on a date&lt;br /&gt;b) move on being friends (do we still call it date or ‘I’m just going out with friends)&lt;br /&gt;c) move further on being fuck buddies (I’m just meeting a friend)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the thing is we’re actually both comfortable with such arrangements, not a word of ‘I miss you’, rather just about which movie we’re watching next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We held hands, we hug, we kiss, we cuddle, we fucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we still on a date?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2787610717643658197-6939814054356094892?l=jodirtythirty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/feeds/6939814054356094892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2787610717643658197&amp;postID=6939814054356094892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/6939814054356094892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/6939814054356094892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/2008/10/date.html' title='Date.'/><author><name>(not so) Dirty Thirty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05466741381797943186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2787610717643658197.post-9120068735542456133</id><published>2008-09-10T15:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T15:08:41.243+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mood swing'/><title type='text'>Yeah</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;am feeling a little shitty.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2787610717643658197-9120068735542456133?l=jodirtythirty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/feeds/9120068735542456133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2787610717643658197&amp;postID=9120068735542456133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/9120068735542456133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/9120068735542456133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/2008/09/yeah.html' title='Yeah'/><author><name>(not so) Dirty Thirty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05466741381797943186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2787610717643658197.post-1480747453697139506</id><published>2008-09-07T13:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T13:46:22.891+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='face'/><title type='text'>Totally Random</title><content type='html'>So, I am back. After 3 trips, decreasing number in the bank account, and increasing boredom (with work).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was on the way to facial on one of those shitty rainy weather weeks ago. With my accident prone ear(plug) phone on, I couldn’t hear someone walking behind me. His pace was fast – he wasn’t carrying a brolly – and soon he was ahead of me. I could see his mouth moving with no noise coming out; thinking he might need some help with direction (he’s a foreigner), I took out my earphone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“you have got a lucky face” was the first thing I heard.&lt;br /&gt;“erm thank you” was all I managed.&lt;br /&gt;“you know why” came next.&lt;br /&gt;A smile from me followed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN another man walked up to him for direction and intercepted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the end of it……..&lt;br /&gt;Because I had to cross the road!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, I don't suppose I will ever find out the reason...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2787610717643658197-1480747453697139506?l=jodirtythirty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/feeds/1480747453697139506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2787610717643658197&amp;postID=1480747453697139506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/1480747453697139506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/1480747453697139506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/2008/09/totally-random.html' title='Totally Random'/><author><name>(not so) Dirty Thirty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05466741381797943186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2787610717643658197.post-4979893863492779415</id><published>2008-06-23T13:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T13:27:33.170+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Career</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I had never been one whose ambition in life was to be someone great when it comes to career. Instead I had grew up to believe that one should enjoy what one does and as long as the $$ is what you deem okay (which perhaps never is), that's all good. We spent most of our time a day at work, if you're stuck with something that you have totally no interest of, wouldn't that be sad...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Now into my 5th company (in slightly 2.5 different scopes of work), I reckon I had pretty much settled into the industry that I am happy with. The thing now is how I should "upgrade" myself and perhaps garner as much knowledge as I can (while I am young that is). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Working overseas - that had been my thought for some years now, even though I didn't quite dig hard into it. The lack of motivation was also due to the fact that my skills and experiences are not deem as "skilled" in other countries. Anyhow, the "opportunity" came about a month or so ago... a local office was keen to have me join one of their overseas branch. I was all hyped up and totally excited. BUT after months of emails bouncing over two countries, things haven't seem to move on as fast as I wish it would. I must say all my excitment had gone a little downhill.. but I'm still keeping my finger crossed and pushing a little now and then, hoping that the office would not be so busy and could squeeze sometime for me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Wish me luck in getting my fat ass over there...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Working thirty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2787610717643658197-4979893863492779415?l=jodirtythirty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/feeds/4979893863492779415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2787610717643658197&amp;postID=4979893863492779415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/4979893863492779415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/4979893863492779415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/2008/06/career.html' title='Career'/><author><name>(not so) Dirty Thirty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05466741381797943186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2787610717643658197.post-6724035313671934983</id><published>2008-06-22T20:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T13:10:59.830+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>Sex</title><content type='html'>or rather the lack of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(this is a totally random entry, the flow doesn't seem smooth, well I was totally distracted by the topic!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, it had been ....... nevermind counting, it had been THAT long since I find myself waking up next to a naked man. What happened to the days of FB!!&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I drew to some conclusion of my lack of sex&lt;br /&gt;a) men don't like sleeping with fat women (ie me)&lt;br /&gt;b) men prefer to sleep with the slimmer me (years ago)&lt;br /&gt;c) no social life = no men = no sex&lt;br /&gt;d) ex-men got married and became good boy (or found some other women to be naught with)&lt;br /&gt;e) cant get men I want&lt;br /&gt;f) men who called - not exactly good in bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't single be having more sex (fun sex in fact!)?? No strings attached is a great concept, with no stress, you would enjoy more fun eh! Frankly, do we have more sex when we're in a relationship? I know I don't. In fact, I recalled having to date a guy for couple of months and we never did have sex (a first for me) and yet, we made up only later a year after we had gone our separate ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of sex with partners, I always belive in test driving (and of course safe sex).&lt;br /&gt;Sex is important bond between two people, imagine you are so in love with a partner, yet sex was bad. And having the need (everyone have!), you resulted to being unfaithful - doesn't that sucks. On the other hand, sex could bond the couple better... Even in these days of fashion magazines and internet, there are women who had never experienced orgasms - come on! how sad is that. Men are only to blame for that, being all selfish to satisfy themsleves and not their women.. tsktsktsk. Sex is about two people, if you care only for yourself, masterbates works better for you......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so well if you believe in sex before marriage - remember - test drive!&lt;br /&gt;and make sure you get them in multiples!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sexless thirty&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2787610717643658197-6724035313671934983?l=jodirtythirty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/feeds/6724035313671934983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2787610717643658197&amp;postID=6724035313671934983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/6724035313671934983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/6724035313671934983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/2008/06/sex.html' title='Sex'/><author><name>(not so) Dirty Thirty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05466741381797943186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2787610717643658197.post-5387803219483943870</id><published>2008-05-28T15:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T16:14:07.624+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby'/><title type='text'>Babies</title><content type='html'>I adore them.&lt;br /&gt;(as much as I adore my bro when he was once a baby)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parents / Parents-to-be are increasing within my pathetic circle of friends these years.&lt;br /&gt;Come to think of it, just within these 2 years. (I haven't even touch on the topic of weddings yet)&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it's really a reflection of age, the phrase of life when people around you start having family and babies. It's a wonderful thing of course, and sometime I really do envy such wonderful moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends who don't know about my deep dark secrets always have the impression that I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ain't&lt;/span&gt; a baby/kid person and for those of you who do know my not so exciting personalities know that I'm a family person ha. (Maybe I need to work on image?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always say (which too always resulted in loud burst of laughter) that I am a traditional girl. All thanks to mom and dad of course. Having both (long hours) working parents pretty much made me independent (or mostly spent with bro) and very often longed for closest of family. We're close still of course, but not to the extent that I'm telling my mom my crush or who I'm dating (till she saw him of course). Growing up with the lack of family time makes me crave to have my own some day - one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; gonna to be filled with so much memories =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And ya, I already got my someday-will-be girl's name in mind.&lt;br /&gt;Had the boy's; but would probably think of alternative ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cute Thirty&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2787610717643658197-5387803219483943870?l=jodirtythirty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/feeds/5387803219483943870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2787610717643658197&amp;postID=5387803219483943870' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/5387803219483943870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/5387803219483943870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/2008/05/babies.html' title='Babies'/><author><name>(not so) Dirty Thirty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05466741381797943186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2787610717643658197.post-2745853419121874124</id><published>2008-05-19T21:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T15:57:34.854+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things they thought we never know</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Have I ever mention that bus rides are so much more interesting than train rides? There's so much to see out of the bus windows while the only thing you could probably catch daily on a train ride is the search for best performancer pretending to fall asleep and not giving up their seats or the recent chap who decided to "display" his boner during his ride...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So i decided to hop on the bus today, heading off to the mall. Picked a seat at the back of the bus and enjoying the cold breeze of the weak air-conditioning.&lt;br /&gt;I didnt took notice of the young couple (probably 15?) infront of me till the boy keep shifting in his seat. Thats when I notice the young couple seems to be cooking up some entertainment themselves. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The girl was lying onto the arm of her boyfriend, in an angle that she can tell us the exact number of nostril hair he has.&lt;br /&gt;- despite the heat that we're all trying to survive from, she was covered from neck down with a huge thick sweater.&lt;br /&gt;- There was constant "movement" around the portion here the bf's hand supposingly was placed under.&lt;br /&gt;- From the window reflection, the gf's legs were err well, pretty spread.&lt;br /&gt;- PLUS both of their expressions were just priceless..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And they thought we douch know what they're up to....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2787610717643658197-2745853419121874124?l=jodirtythirty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/feeds/2745853419121874124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2787610717643658197&amp;postID=2745853419121874124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/2745853419121874124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/2745853419121874124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/2008/05/things-they-thought-we-never-know.html' title='Things they thought we never know'/><author><name>(not so) Dirty Thirty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05466741381797943186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2787610717643658197.post-3863669962919190580</id><published>2008-04-28T21:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T22:01:41.735+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='age'/><title type='text'>Thirty? whos Thirty?</title><content type='html'>Thirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. It's not such a scary number.&lt;br /&gt;It's just THE Big 3. the next number after 29. Well it's just that 20s over. boo hoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it would be interesting to start a (brand new) journal, to leave the little memory of how it is going to be like in the journey of 30s ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being 30 makes me braver, okay maybe not totally BRAVE, but perhaps being more adventurous? My first little step was heading for lasik treatment 3 months ago. okay I might be late for that since the technology had been around for the past years, but you cant blame me! having instrument right into your eyes aint something you wanna do straight away! my choice was only encouraged by the recent dry eyes (first sign of hormo change, that's another topic all together)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so where was i? totally distracted by channel surfing.&lt;br /&gt;anyway this is going to be quite a lousy 1st post. but hey i am still giving myself a pat on the back because i actually get started! ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the (not so) dirty thirty&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2787610717643658197-3863669962919190580?l=jodirtythirty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/feeds/3863669962919190580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2787610717643658197&amp;postID=3863669962919190580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/3863669962919190580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2787610717643658197/posts/default/3863669962919190580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jodirtythirty.blogspot.com/2008/04/thirty.html' title='Thirty? whos Thirty?'/><author><name>(not so) Dirty Thirty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05466741381797943186</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
