<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' version='2.0'><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sun, 22 Nov 2009 14:59:23 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>MiaAnswer.com</title><description>Life Has Subjective Meanings.</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>118</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-8663592390510983618</guid><pubDate>Thu, 19 Nov 2009 12:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-19T20:43:13.547+08:00</atom:updated><title>If I Were A Boy.</title><description>Cliche. What we all heard from Beyonce’s song “If I Were a Boy” are all things good that she’ll do to the girl IF she is a boy. But if I am a boy, would I do what I want a boy to do when I am a girl?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In almost all occasion, I wouldn’t call when I say I would. I didn’t even bother to call back anyone when I said I would. Not that I intentionally did, it’s just that I have better things to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe, I’ll cheat on the girl. Because girls are so merimaskan. They whine over small things, they cry whenever they feel their throats are tight, they nag like it’s a rat race. They just do whatever they want. Whenever they want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think that I won’t bother to even have a girlfriend. Because why have one when I can have a lot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is why I am VERY grateful that I am not a boy. Because then I wouldn’t know how to appreciate people’s feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : How Long Will It Last by Colin James Hay&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-8663592390510983618?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/11/if-i-were-boy.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-1716554770462760530</guid><pubDate>Wed, 18 Nov 2009 19:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-19T03:37:17.491+08:00</atom:updated><title>We're Normal Aliens.</title><description>When we look into someone else's life, it's like analyzing our own. Have you done that? I did. And then what I felt that grew inside me was envy. It's like I wanted to be there too. Experiencing something else rather than what I currently have. A little, tiny bird in my heard keeps cuckoo-ing that maybe there are someone out there who looks into mine and thought the same too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that is every human's nature. We always want we don't have. And maybe what we cannot have. So it's normal. You're normal. I'm normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that I would kill to be where I wanted to be, but at least we were all given "imagination". So, I used it very well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life changes people. And what changes life is experience. And we experience thing when we see it, feel it, hear it, done it. And to achieve that, we need to walk about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday, I know I'm gonna be there. Exactly where I wanted to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Fire by Kasabian&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-1716554770462760530?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/11/were-normal-aliens.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-8805588990182278300</guid><pubDate>Sun, 08 Nov 2009 08:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-11-08T16:44:51.219+08:00</atom:updated><title>Never, Never, Never...</title><description>... take a sit next to someone who annoys you during an examination. So here it goes : Reinforced Concrete Design. The guy next to me buat noises that made me lose it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : She Wants to Move by NERD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-8805588990182278300?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/11/never-never-never.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-2461443365667399055</guid><pubDate>Wed, 28 Oct 2009 09:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-29T23:40:01.526+08:00</atom:updated><title>Your Say on This</title><description>Men. We can't live without them, we can't live with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this one research conducted by some people I don't know, and I quote, saying that men and women are purposely created not the same in every possible way imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most men find women who's in their period are very attractive. Kononnya ada this invisible magnetic attraction towards them. But women on the other hand, usually felt disgusted and emotional with everything around them. Kadang-kadang, meja pun boleh buat menyampah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, older women will reach their menopause and at that time, they refuse sex. But men, makin tua makin gatal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example 2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When fighting, women wants to talk, and sometimes shout, but always, they will want to have this Cone of Sharing where they hope the partner will talk too. But men wants the way out. They want to stop talking about it and move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example 3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the fight, women find their friends for advise and to mengadu pasal boyfriend, but men find friends and talk about cars. Or football. Anything that doesn't spell &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;PEREMPUAN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Example 4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perempuan selalu fikir lelaki are mentally retarded, lelaki pulak selalu rasa perempuan are emotionally retarded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Ni betul ya, saya dah tanya a few kawan saya of both sexes.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so you got my point? By these few examples, your mind is already detecting other examples that happens around you. So, I think that research is quite true. &lt;strong&gt;Yes?&lt;/strong&gt; But as for me personally, I am a female. So, I'll write about mistakes men do that they don't realise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Girls nak you dengar apa luahan hati dorang time gaduh. They expect you to allocate some time to talk nicely about the issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) They want you to be as soft as you could whenever they're around. &lt;u&gt;L.e.m.b.u.t&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Let them shout at you, and never shout back at them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Kalau jalan jalan, let them go wherever they want. You don't WHINE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Lelaki selalu fikir kalau they do something, dorang tengah jaga the girlfriend. But kat mata perempuan tu, they are controlling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Well, basically, they want to hear their own opinion but in your voice. So, give them the answer they want to hear when they ask you super-ridiculous questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you have more to say. So, say it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Selepas Kau Pergi by La Luna&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-2461443365667399055?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/10/your-say-on-this.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-2224170881600701665</guid><pubDate>Sat, 24 Oct 2009 09:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-25T01:18:21.174+08:00</atom:updated><title>Yang Mana Satu Pilihan Kalbu?</title><description>I thought I am dying to continue my study abroad. Well, I haven't even made up my mind up until now. The thought of living in a foreign world seems to be a life-saving activity for me, yealah, to show me what it's like out there, to *hopefully* make me a better person. But, there's too much to leave here and I want to go in peace. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I searched for options here in Malaysia, because I do not want to have to know the fact that I am definitely going to UiTM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this post is irrelevant and boring, but I have to write it someplace so that I won't forget what is inside my head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UM, UTM, UiTM, Uniten. For civil engineering. Your say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Reptilia by The Strokes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-2224170881600701665?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/10/yang-mana-satu-pilihan-kalbu.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-883079413770226860</guid><pubDate>Thu, 22 Oct 2009 06:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-22T14:47:46.703+08:00</atom:updated><title>There's Too Much</title><description>What is my passion? Some people, it's basketball, or piano, or violin. Passion to me is a thing we do when we're down to search for ourself again. I don't know what's mine. I like a lot of things, but I'm not sure if it's a passion or not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the 22nd of October 2009. This means that Kid is 20 years old. Happy colourful birthday to you, yang. Hope that you will always be happy and healthy as a tiger. I'll try granting your wish which is celebrating your birthday every year with me by your side. You'll always be my big kid trapped in a man's body. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the oh-so-wonderful reader that is currently reading this and may wonder why do I call him Kid, there are two reasons for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) He is a kid at heart. Not the Abang Gangster that he appears to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) To you that might notice, at times he does look like a kid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) I love Blogger Boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Yang Ainoor, I'm coming home. Nak ajak aku g Carnival Unisel ke?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Half in Love with Elizabeth by Mystery Jets&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-883079413770226860?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/10/theres-too-much.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-5848389573409691875</guid><pubDate>Thu, 15 Oct 2009 12:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-15T20:46:53.157+08:00</atom:updated><title>Minda Kita Pelik</title><description>Kenapa kalau orang orang in a relationship kita kena expect that dorang tu come from the same type of person? If they are different, kita pelik. Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Gagap By Stacy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-5848389573409691875?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/10/minda-kita-pelik.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-4164078180480094861</guid><pubDate>Wed, 07 Oct 2009 09:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-07T17:37:02.472+08:00</atom:updated><title>Cakap Kuat, Burp Kuat, Kentut Pun Kuat</title><description>Good Afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is always the first time for everything. And as for today, is the first time I go connected to the world wide web from the Pesona CC. God, kids nowadays really doesn't know how to stay at home. Kan, As? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of As, sian dia and the Big Baby Brother Bear sakit and got MC. Actually, I have zero to say on my mind as all I could hear are kids and entah-apa-nak-panggil ni semua memekak kat kiri kanan depan, nasib baiklah belakang ni dinding. Even worse, loghat utara bapak pekatnya! Sorry, bukan racist ya. Tapi, urgh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Shut Up by Black Eyed Peas&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-4164078180480094861?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/10/cakap-kuat-burp-kuat-kentut-pun-kuat.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-8488706099390802681</guid><pubDate>Wed, 30 Sep 2009 06:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-30T14:53:27.165+08:00</atom:updated><title>This is Dedicated to ...</title><description>Past. Sometimes I'm not proud of it. Sometimes I wish I could erase it with just a snap of my fingers. Sometimes I felt embarrased whenever people brought it up. Sometimes I wish I have more money to pay people to shut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot pretend that they never happened. I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are not the same, not at all. I love you genuinely and straight from the heart. I never intended to see you compare or feel second-graded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Mohamad Zulhelmi Abdul Rahman, I adore you and I wish to take care and be taken care of by you. What happened in the past of yours and mine are now beyond our power. With God's will, this will all remain the same, InsyaALLAH. :')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Far More by The Honorary Title&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-8488706099390802681?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/09/this-is-dedicated-to.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-5129960297459131979</guid><pubDate>Fri, 28 Aug 2009 16:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-29T01:06:18.668+08:00</atom:updated><title>Mia 20.As 19.</title><description>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happy 26th!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, today is already the 29th. But August 26th is still very fresh. Love it, hate it, the smiles and the frowns are there to stay. I spent most of my life searching for someone who shares the same birthday as I am. All these while, I only know one person -- Macaulay Culkin. But tiba tiba, my brand new housemate (chewah! siap brand new!) is also born on the same date but in different time machine. Means, it was 20 for Mia and 19 for As.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the day starts with plenty of texts pouring in. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it is the fasting month, everything went along fine. And during the break fast time, the oh-so-tiny Dai made me French Toast a la Dai which awaken my taste buds. Then, sharp at 9, the boyfriend took me and the kembar out to Subway where we were forced to pose in many weird ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Balik balik je rumah, everyone was there &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*secara diam-diam*&lt;/span&gt; and they threw me and As a surprise party which I found out later that they had been planning it for two weeks! It was very pleasing and heartwarming. &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;The housemate&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;the classmates&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; the Soul Sisters&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;the neighbours&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204);"&gt;the boyfriend&lt;/span&gt;, they were all there. They have balloons and mihun and cake and yessssss, PRESENTS! :) :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice to be on this side of the table. I am usually on the plan-and-do team. But on that day, I'm the Birthday Girl. What can I say? I felt very appreciated and happy. Never have I thought that it was they that would do this kind of thing, kan As? Out of everyone I knew, it was them who found me smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, they told us to go find harta karun in our rooms. I found it. An oven which I have been dying to own and it fits well with Kaklia's present. As got herself a toaster which she adored. I know it sounds funny because we both got electrical appliances, but that is what we have on our wishlists and that shows how much they knew us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hihi&lt;/span&gt; : Cantik kau lukis banner tu. Pandai kau lukis. Ajoi dengan perut boyot tu paling tak tahan. Hehehe. Terima kasih, hihi. Lepas ni jangan malu malu lagi ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mamaq&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;: Giler sedap resepi kek kau. Meh, meh, siapa nak buat tempahan, Mamaq STF ada menyediakan perkhidmatan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fofo&lt;/span&gt; : Kalau kau tengok video time malam tu, kaulah yang paling semangat tepuk tepuk tangan. Award untuk kau -- the best cheerleader. Chewwah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yaya&lt;/span&gt; : You memang photographer of the night. You owe me the picturessssss. Thanx, ya! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dai&lt;/span&gt; : Oh! Inilah yag you buat belakang I ya? Hehehe, I sukaaaaaa. Serious, I promise I takkan lupa birthday you lagi. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hasreen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;: Walaupun kau banyak menyakitkan hati aku minggu ni, tapi tak apa. Aku terharu dengan apa yang kau lakukan. Tak sangka aku kau sayang aku ya Hasreen ya? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);"&gt;Lala&lt;/span&gt; : La! Kau sangat sweet. Siap belajar guitar untuk nyanyi. :') Pandai kau and helmi dan mereka semua main nyorok-nyorok buat surprise ya. Terima kasih dari hati yang suci ini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Daril, Ezzul, Din, Kerol &lt;/span&gt;: Thank you sangat sebab masakkan mihun yang sedap, banyak dan amat membuat hati tersentuh tu. Walaupun I banyak susahkan korang, korang baik jugak. Btw, Ezzul, dorang seua kirim salam. Especially Birthday Girl #2. Hehehehe ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Helmi&lt;/span&gt; : Thank you for everything that you've done for me. You made me really happy. Thank you for loving me and for paying attention to what I've been telling you. I could never repay you for the love you've passed on to me. :') I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't talk about pakcik - pakcik Pesona yang gila tu. They only will ruin the mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To all, thank you again. I "sayang" you. Tahun depan ada lagi ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SpgM6aPACxI/AAAAAAAAAOk/vwkwdPLlQQU/s1600-h/mia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SpgM6aPACxI/AAAAAAAAAOk/vwkwdPLlQQU/s400/mia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375060352880872210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Birthday Girtl by The Roots&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-5129960297459131979?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/08/mia-20as-19.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SpgM6aPACxI/AAAAAAAAAOk/vwkwdPLlQQU/s72-c/mia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-8340071412942846430</guid><pubDate>Sun, 23 Aug 2009 09:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-23T17:38:01.060+08:00</atom:updated><title>I Am Annie</title><description>The guy next door said that I should name this post as it is. Because I am almost similar to a volcano. I'll erupt one day. He said I'm too nice to others. Well, but not as nice to him. As this is Ramadhan, I want to let it go and hope they vanish into the thin air someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am sick when people doesn't get it when I'm mad. When I am, it means that I am. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am sick when people thinks I am always happy, as if I have no trouble in the world. They can go shove their asses into the sand and sink and die.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am sick when people push me around as if I am a wheel cart that is movable all they want. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am sick of things. I can't state it too much, or I'll burn in hell because people read this. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever it feels as if everything is falling apart, be thankful of what you have and what you had gone through. Life is a lot of things. But a piece of mind, life is about having what you do not wish to have most of the time. We don't always get what we want. Or who we want. So brace yourself. Be strong. I know you're reading this and it is quite dreadful for me to know that whatever I've said to you cannot redo your emotions. When we linger around each other for too long, we start to feel too. And I cannot do this to myself as what you are doing to yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To you : I hope this month and after are gonna be another darling surprise for us two. Thank you for erasing my boredom for today with the connection. I don't think I can even hear the word "sleep" anymore. In case if you think I'm afraid to show it, I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Adore You by Lil' Rain&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-8340071412942846430?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-am-annie.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-2533254399254310474</guid><pubDate>Sun, 02 Aug 2009 05:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-02T14:39:57.914+08:00</atom:updated><title>Calling All Chai</title><description>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUos5B6MAI/AAAAAAAAAOU/qbqVcN76Cmg/s1600-h/IMG_0106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365239282769997826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUos5B6MAI/AAAAAAAAAOU/qbqVcN76Cmg/s400/IMG_0106.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUosXJspTI/AAAAAAAAAOM/PGvOAQei9nA/s1600-h/eLLe...JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365239273675859250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUosXJspTI/AAAAAAAAAOM/PGvOAQei9nA/s400/eLLe...JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUluidK0HI/AAAAAAAAAOE/84SvEdjEPC8/s1600-h/Eqa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365236012535173234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUluidK0HI/AAAAAAAAAOE/84SvEdjEPC8/s400/Eqa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUluUQT7NI/AAAAAAAAAN8/I59nJQXB3gI/s1600-h/bellie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365236008723147986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUluUQT7NI/AAAAAAAAAN8/I59nJQXB3gI/s400/bellie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUluEWQsUI/AAAAAAAAAN0/PxbDiVzA0lM/s1600-h/IMG_2110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365236004453134658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUluEWQsUI/AAAAAAAAAN0/PxbDiVzA0lM/s400/IMG_2110.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUjCSkEoLI/AAAAAAAAANs/EufiY8900p8/s1600-h/IMG_0105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365233053331660978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUjCSkEoLI/AAAAAAAAANs/EufiY8900p8/s400/IMG_0105.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUjCLOCR_I/AAAAAAAAANk/_mogDGFisVE/s1600-h/IMG_2369.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365233051360184306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUjCLOCR_I/AAAAAAAAANk/_mogDGFisVE/s400/IMG_2369.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUjBr-ZoEI/AAAAAAAAANc/m7u5IlQx1Ac/s1600-h/n620488682_736442_6588.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365233042973106242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUjBr-ZoEI/AAAAAAAAANc/m7u5IlQx1Ac/s400/n620488682_736442_6588.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hello? &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*if you are a Chai, comment back to indicate yourself*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My name is Ameera Nur Diana. Most of you know me as Mia. In our secret Chai language, I'm &lt;u&gt;Api&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;I miss you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Miss Jackson by OutKast&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-2533254399254310474?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/08/calling-all-chai.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SnUos5B6MAI/AAAAAAAAAOU/qbqVcN76Cmg/s72-c/IMG_0106.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-3627224791953659789</guid><pubDate>Thu, 23 Jul 2009 17:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-24T12:26:16.857+08:00</atom:updated><title>Look At Me, Look At Me</title><description>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Attention, attention :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To those who had fallen madly in love with headbands, and in deep need to be different and to stand out in the crowd, Please give a little attention to these handmade headbands. Meaning, &lt;u&gt;there's only one for each design&lt;/u&gt; ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a sneak peak of the lineup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361725281866972370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SmisvHjpfNI/AAAAAAAAAMk/uOwyq93aufk/s400/DSC_0433.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SmiqcvnIeKI/AAAAAAAAAMM/rBYXQBaB8no/s1600-h/DSC_0424.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361722767178234018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SmiqcvnIeKI/AAAAAAAAAMM/rBYXQBaB8no/s400/DSC_0424.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Smim9rmyLFI/AAAAAAAAAL8/4vJ0pVvE3UA/s1600-h/DSC_0417.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361718934992202834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Smim9rmyLFI/AAAAAAAAAL8/4vJ0pVvE3UA/s400/DSC_0417.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Smim9bkKhEI/AAAAAAAAAL0/C6OXLb2SCGg/s1600-h/DSC_0415.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361718930686248002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Smim9bkKhEI/AAAAAAAAAL0/C6OXLb2SCGg/s400/DSC_0415.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361720126716579378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SmioDDIBDjI/AAAAAAAAAME/WwZfVVBbXOg/s400/DSC_0426.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361728755730171010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Smiv5UtLRII/AAAAAAAAAMs/4IKRVMl7SbQ/s400/DSC_0428.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sooooo, if you're interested, just email &lt;a href="mailto:syahlia_syahril@yahoo.com"&gt;syahlia_syahril@yahoo.com&lt;/a&gt;. Or, you can drop by at Pick&amp;amp;Grab this Saturday. Oh and FYI, it's rm15 each. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Come on, pass the word around ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361730671129162562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 283px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Smixo0H4c0I/AAAAAAAAAM0/ccZENk8f0PA/s400/Pick_%26_Grab_Part_5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Maybe Tommorrow by Stereophonics&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-3627224791953659789?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/07/look-at-me-look-at-me.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/SmisvHjpfNI/AAAAAAAAAMk/uOwyq93aufk/s72-c/DSC_0433.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-8517689446394474477</guid><pubDate>Wed, 22 Jul 2009 17:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-23T01:26:44.803+08:00</atom:updated><title>Kawan.</title><description>As a friend, I cannot run from my resposibilities towards another. I can give you my words, a little piece of my wisdom. But in the end, it's you and your ears and your heart. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Love Remains The Same by Gavin Rossdale&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-8517689446394474477?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/07/kawan.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-5012839324788834457</guid><pubDate>Wed, 22 Jul 2009 08:23:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-22T16:24:35.187+08:00</atom:updated><title>Pity One Pity Two</title><description>Sian dia sakit. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : I Still Believe by Mariah Carey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-5012839324788834457?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/07/pity-one-pity-two.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-8572519341936374433</guid><pubDate>Tue, 21 Jul 2009 03:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-21T11:34:27.080+08:00</atom:updated><title>8</title><description>Hello. Woke up today in dusk. Snoozing off the alarm seems the perfect thing to do at that very moment. But zero intention to be locked outside the Highway Lab again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to fast forward my days to the 8th of August, where the numbers are 1 and 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to keep remembering the 8th of July, where it was 1 and 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you get what I meant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s : With you, I will always look forward to the number 8. I smiled, I cried. You hugged, you roared. :')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Kau Yang Punya by Malique ft. Najwa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-8572519341936374433?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/07/8.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-8010906324746850918</guid><pubDate>Mon, 20 Jul 2009 15:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-20T23:36:19.779+08:00</atom:updated><title>Please Tell Me I'm Wrong</title><description>If you’re buying a car, the most important thing to look at is its engine, its capability to reach miles, the horsepower, the technology used and not forgetting its fuel consumption. Then later you consider the outer part -- the interior design, the colour, what animal its light resembles, how spacious it is and obviously whether or not it provides airbags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, now. The outer part of the car does not guarantees you that the car will satisfy your needs. It will only satisfy your wants. But the ability to serve you its best functions comes from the inner part  -- the engine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is how love looks like. Yes, like buying a car. You saw a car, say, a Mini Cooper. You love it. You fell in love. And you think that shall be your ultimate car, you riding buddy. You approach the nearest showroom. You look at its very details. And at that moment, you saw another car that attracts you. It might not be as sporty, as pretty, and as eye-catching as the Cooper, but it seems okay. The person told you, this car that, this car this. That car gave you everything that you’ve ever wanted. That car provides the answer to your questions and doubts. You totally forgot about the Cooper. You bought THIS car. Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot guarantee you that when you read this, you’ll get my point. But I can guarantee you that somehow, you know how it feels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is not just a four letter words. Love is like picking up tiles for your toilet. If you pick the wrong colour, it won’t match your whole space. And if you pick the right one, it might have something else in its package.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is a feeling you feel inside. You cannot write it, see it, touch it, taste it and as well as sell it. You can feel and right now, I feel crushed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One unique thing about human is that we can feel things. And one of it is this particular matter. And one obvious thing about love is that it has no laws that work on it, for it or even against it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the conclusion is, love does not have justice. Love does not have time to wait or even rewind the time back to the good memories. Love conquers your whole mind. Love lets you be someone you’re not. Love lies to you about the good times they will bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love lets you forget your own love.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Part of The List by Ne-Yo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-8010906324746850918?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/07/please-tell-me-im-wrong.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-4353661208039733440</guid><pubDate>Sun, 28 Jun 2009 10:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-28T19:00:57.770+08:00</atom:updated><title>Eight, Seven, Six, Five, The List Goes On.</title><description>The clock's ticking. And every sheets of paper in the calendar is being torn each day indicating that the 5th of July is reaching. Fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can't help but hear myself talking to itself on the back of my mind. It echoes as if I have a twin walking with me all through the hallway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I made myself a list so that I can extract almost everything in my head into papers, or screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1)&lt;/strong&gt; Bila rambut nak panjang? I know some people prefers me with short hair compared to long because I am a very messy person. But, I want long hair. Although I know, as soon as it reach the shoulder, I would want to cut it. But, I want long hair. What say you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2)&lt;/strong&gt; Kenapa nak kena eja FCUK when you actually mean FUCK? You're doing it out of ...? Just say it. As if the others or the rest of the world doesn't know what you're trying to deliver. Don't blame it on the brand. Those are initials that represents words, in case if you didn't notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3)&lt;/strong&gt; How to make pimple scars dissapear easily? Because I am tired of waking up in the morning, and stand in front of the sink to brush my teeth, and watch myself staring at myself &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and God forbids&lt;/span&gt;, with pimple scars all over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4)&lt;/strong&gt; What do people do to allow themselves buy things as much as they want? I analyse myself and conclude that I need to tie my ass up and save &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;JUST&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;to buy &lt;u&gt;ONE&lt;/u&gt; thing. And it's RM25. Are your parents showering you with cash instead of water? Your water heaters at home are filled with greens instead of blue? If yes, where do I get them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5)&lt;/strong&gt; I never have the desire to go out late at night for every possible day. And also go out during the day with that. I think that what makes me have little time to spend with people. Making me almost an &lt;em&gt;anti-social&lt;/em&gt;. Making all the friends nag my ears out. But I love staying at home although what I do is expand my butt because they stay flat on surface constantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6)&lt;/strong&gt; Kenapa mulut aku tak reti diam? Genetic mama ke?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7)&lt;/strong&gt; Apa yang best sangat kat internet sampai orang boleh SURF. For me, I just stare. Then I'm done. Though the whole duration of staring are for hoursssssssssssss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8)&lt;/strong&gt; And God, howlah some people get so pretty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : BoJangles by Pitbull&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-4353661208039733440?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/06/eight-seven-six-five-list-goes-on.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-2137231500101127037</guid><pubDate>Fri, 26 Jun 2009 12:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-26T21:41:11.006+08:00</atom:updated><title>Murder Me, Music Man</title><description>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It strucked me.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a lightning bolt straight to me head. My siblings are very art-sy. Should I be happy that I am not in a boring family, or should I be sad that I am not born with an artistic ability?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. So here I am, with a &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sister&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; so close to me like a zit on my skin who happens to be an exquisite graphic designer with deep passion for art and nice things. She have been doing crazy freelancing arts since college. Photography, Lomo, T-Shirt designing, decorating muffins, etc. And she is legally married to the&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;brother-in-law&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, another graphic designer who enjoys browsing weird stuffs of Internet. He comes home and will probably asks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Have you seen that video of _________?"&lt;/em&gt; or,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"You know, you should check out this website."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Or something like that.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, okay. Now the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;brother-in-law&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is also a DJ-slash-MC. Performing everywhere, mainly at Cloth&amp;amp;Clef. Even the newborn niece is showing some dance moves already. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, okay, okay. I have a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;brother&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. The only eagle in the family. The screaming cat among the mute. He is an ongoing musician for as long as I could remember. And he inherit that naturally straight from the father. So, I guess I know where he got it all. He's had few good remarks on his bass-ing credibilty. And he is married to the &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sister-in-law&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, okay, okay, okay. The &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sister-in-law&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; loves business. She has this online shopping thing, Laqoo which sells like ice-creams on a hot summer day. Her brand opens at Bijou Bazaar and she has good eyes for fashion, if that is not and understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. My &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mother&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; sings. Very well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Where does that left me? And thee husband, yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Shake and Pop by Steve Aoki&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-2137231500101127037?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/06/murder-me-music-man.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-3722101072982491124</guid><pubDate>Thu, 25 Jun 2009 09:56:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-25T17:58:59.294+08:00</atom:updated><title>Benci</title><description>I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when his pasts are controlling my mind. And the fact that his pasts are offering better pleasure than my present. Grrrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You, sorry. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : The Show by Lenka&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-3722101072982491124?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/06/benci.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-4265070814238067432</guid><pubDate>Fri, 12 Jun 2009 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-13T05:04:36.695+08:00</atom:updated><title>Painting It Red</title><description>Boys. Men. Male. Call them what you like. Even when you have your secret language or speaking in parcel tongue. They come in many shapes, sizes, colours, attitudes, habits, sounds, sights and et cetera. But mainly, they are the ones who kept the world going. They are the ones that can re-generate our excitement to study or even do the thing that makes us feel bored the most. They are who motivates us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;They made our tongues tied&lt;/strong&gt;. Literally and physically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are the people who made us ask anyone, even strangers, &lt;em&gt;"Is my hair okay?"&lt;/em&gt; . And when they are there, we suddenly flicker our eyelashes, and when asked we will definitely say, &lt;em&gt;“There’s something in my eyes. Can you blow it away?”&lt;/em&gt; Ahh, the wonders they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am literally tired of repeating myself that I have found mine. But nevertheless, there are a lot of girls out there who have found theirs but insist not to show, not to tell, to hide it all the way. Life is bloody short. And the shortcourse is getting even shortER! So we can’t afford to be the ones waiting anymore. Though I always wait, but seriously, just go for it. Shoot for the moon. Aim at the stars. Make them notice us in the way we wanted them to. Let them ask around about us, eventually, and satisfaction guaranteed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I watched her giggle all the way. Aim at the stars and the moon and the galaxy and the universe and the outer space and everywhere you could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on the other side of the world, I noticed that he was surrounded by pretty people. He was surrounded by those who are with pretty people. And it always works for pretty people. As it is always works for him. She cannot compete with that, as she cannot meet the expectations. She was and has always been living life in her own definitions. She was never that overwhelming, as she was never that warm or friendly. He was surrounded by everything she’s not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pity,pity her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Aku dan Mimpi by Amylea&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-4265070814238067432?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/06/painting-it-red.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-6515654103989990647</guid><pubDate>Sat, 06 Jun 2009 14:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-06T23:07:52.710+08:00</atom:updated><title>The Season is Here</title><description>The season is here. That's what it says above. Yeah. The baby season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bring in the babies, I can be the nanny. Grr.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : I Know You Want Me by Pitbull&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-6515654103989990647?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/06/season-is-here.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-2454225537294139358</guid><pubDate>Thu, 04 Jun 2009 08:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-04T16:49:38.363+08:00</atom:updated><title>Hihiy + Helmi</title><description>Tadi, baru je tengok blogpost Hihiy yang sangat digembar-gemburkan oleh penduduk A4-13. Oh, it was hilarious. If you are interested to become a fan, &lt;a href="http://raksasahee.blogspot.com/"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spending you time in the middle of heat and trees and animals you've never thought existed will always get to you somehow. Life in crisis will seem to be at ease, though the rest of the time, you will think about how life sucks for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jengka is an experience as the five of us - Mia, Hasreen, Lala, Hihiy and Helmi - will never thought that we'll spend 5 weeks here. No cheap food supplies, no entertainment, no whatever we used to have. But we seem to last well here ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma, jangan risau pasal mia. Cuma, sadly, duit mia dah habis disebabkan makan kat sini mahal giler. Ayam+nasi+telur = RM4.70. Tak larat nak bayar food tu kadang-kadang, tapi kalau tak makan, laparrrrrr. So.... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy boy, kau ni dah balik. Tapi sedih aku. Bulu hidung, batang hidung, helaian rambut merah kau tu semua aku tak nampak lagi. Tapi takpelah. Ada je orang kat luara sana yang dah terpisah 20 tahun, lagi kronik.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eno, aku mintak mahapppppp le. Phone aku dah kena bar. So, kita gang. Aku dah kasi number Celcom aku, memanglah tak delivered kalau kau message aku kat 017.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that's the message I think are most important to be said right now. Because after a blink of my eyes, I am still in Jengka, surrounded by heat and trees and animals I've never thought existed. Not to mention the expensive foods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s : oh oh oh, Hihiy and Helmi are twins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Knock You Down by Keri Hilson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-2454225537294139358?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/06/hihiy-helmi.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-6469523281076032131</guid><pubDate>Sat, 30 May 2009 08:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-30T16:41:34.055+08:00</atom:updated><title>Lipsy Lips.</title><description>Dramatic. Constantly over-stressing over things. Demand highly on whatever nonsense. Stubborn. Very hard-headed. Never listen to people's advises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the words used to describe who I am at my worst moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not everyone get to experience that particular side of mine. Only those who are lucky enough will get the chance to. Or unlucky, in other words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treat me like in the movies. Where the girl got dragged into the ventilation room when she was stress so that she can feel the wind on her skin. The man's simple words were, "You'll like it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treat me like in the movies. Where the girl got chased all the very time even when she became a monster. And the man's simple words were, "Because I want to."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treat me like in the movies. Where the man gave undivided, cliche, attention to the girl. And his simple words were, "Hey you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treat me like in the movies. And sweep me off my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treat me like in the movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone by Bill Withers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-6469523281076032131?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/05/lipsy-lips.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink='false'>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-978307608389238246.post-6880610626965278681</guid><pubDate>Fri, 29 May 2009 12:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-29T20:40:45.699+08:00</atom:updated><title>Frozen Warnings.</title><description>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Sh_V2_kECBI/AAAAAAAAALE/gqX-8VQWGfc/s1600-h/Jessica-Lowndes-photoshoot-90210-5510804-487-650.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341222823837042706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Sh_V2_kECBI/AAAAAAAAALE/gqX-8VQWGfc/s400/Jessica-Lowndes-photoshoot-90210-5510804-487-650.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Sh_Vt6sIF3I/AAAAAAAAAK8/nvoxbIcjRL0/s1600-h/pushy_tamara.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341222667909863282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Sh_Vt6sIF3I/AAAAAAAAAK8/nvoxbIcjRL0/s400/pushy_tamara.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Sh_VNYlM6HI/AAAAAAAAAK0/_qti9DWcY1U/s1600-h/Paloma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341222108998199410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 276px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 276px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Sh_VNYlM6HI/AAAAAAAAAK0/_qti9DWcY1U/s400/Paloma.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Sh_VD3bL3RI/AAAAAAAAAKs/YO_RilO1KQg/s1600-h/44095341.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341221945478995218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Sh_VD3bL3RI/AAAAAAAAAKs/YO_RilO1KQg/s400/44095341.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Sh_U1GTH4MI/AAAAAAAAAKk/luxKTJrl3lw/s1600-h/217994_nu4e2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341221691773673666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 362px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Sh_U1GTH4MI/AAAAAAAAAKk/luxKTJrl3lw/s400/217994_nu4e2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SONG OF THE MOMENT : I Want It That Way by Baskstreet Boys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/978307608389238246-6880610626965278681?l=miaohmia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://miaohmia.blogspot.com/2009/05/frozen-warnings.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (miaOHmia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yFLzyGEfSrg/Sh_V2_kECBI/AAAAAAAAALE/gqX-8VQWGfc/s72-c/Jessica-Lowndes-photoshoot-90210-5510804-487-650.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>