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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sat, 07 Nov 2009 05:42:41 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Oh for the love of me!</title><description /><link>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/</link><managingEditor>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>619</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/sweetcontemplation" type="application/rss+xml" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-8159363496769180256</guid><pubDate>Mon, 26 Oct 2009 21:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-27T08:59:57.546+11:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personal</category><title>Sleeping Habits</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/06ddl1308.jpg" alt="20091027 Sleeping Habits" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fall asleep under unusual circumstances. Unless I'm terribly exhausted, in which case I would doze off the minute my head touches my pillow, I need sounds to fall asleep. My husband thinks it's very weird of me to wait up for our night street sweeper to clean the street before I could sleep. The whirring sound of the sweeping was oddly soothing, and while listening to it, I dozed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was when we slept by the window. Months ago, in order to create more space in our room, we rearranged the furniture and the bed is now away from the window. The sweeper man does not come by on schedule anymore. With that, I have to either listen to podcasts on my iPod Touch to fall asleep, or one of the many sounds of nature albums I have in there. Apparently I need to be either in a "jungle" or at the "beach" to be able to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suffice to say, living in the 'burbs in future where it's so quiet you would be able to hear your own thoughts would really &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; work for me. Tim prefers the silence; I enjoy listening to the noise coming from the Greek restaurant nearby. He wants our future home to be away from the train tracks whereas I would not mind at all (sure, there's that thing about property value decreasing near the train tracks, but that's another story).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What different sleeping habits we have. Or how utterly strange mine is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-8159363496769180256?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/MklT-etRZqE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/MklT-etRZqE/sleeping-habits.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/10/sleeping-habits.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-4778374010273624168</guid><pubDate>Sat, 17 Oct 2009 14:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-18T01:49:00.420+11:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Rants</category><title>Vandals Be Gone!</title><description>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img alt="20091015 Vandalism" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/is098r0zv.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A week or two ago, Channel 7's Today Tonight featured a story on vandalism, in which teenagers were vandalising school buses, public buses, trains, walls, etc. They were caught on CCTV scraping at the back of bus seats, carving out goodness-knows-what with a screwdriver. Windows were not spared as well. Nonsensical words would be scratched and carved on the glass. Teenagers smashing bus windows with baseball bats. Spraying graffitti on trains, residential walls, etc. The government spends millions a year just to clean that shit up. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have zero tolerance when it comes to vandalism. The act (or even the thought of it) really gets on my nerves. I don't understand the fun in it. Oi, it's not your property. Keep your filthy mitts off it. How about if I were to carve my name on the cover of your laptop? So what's if it's not just a wall or the back of a seat? It's still your stuff, isn't it? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few days ago, I saw something which really angered me. I saw what could be passed for a penis, sprayed in red, on a tree. I saw red (no pun intended). You can, as much as one can hope for, remove grafitti off walls. If not, then the walls can at least be painted over. That tree took at least 20 years for it to grow to that size, and it was ruined with a bloody spray can in just a minute. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You know what I'd love to do? Rather than just making these vandals clean up after their own mess? I'd love to have them stand in a row, in only their undies, while I spray them with spray cans. Y'know, the kinds that DON'T come off. Let's see how they like it. What, you can dish it out but you can't take it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bloody morons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-4778374010273624168?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/SqLu8vb67Fs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/SqLu8vb67Fs/vandals-be-gone.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/10/vandals-be-gone.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-7950120501375619950</guid><pubDate>Thu, 15 Oct 2009 14:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-16T01:30:01.140+11:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personal</category><title>My New Project</title><description>I love jewellery. Who doesn't? Shiny baubles hanging from the ears, neck, wrist and even feet - they never fail to give that instant pick-me-up to an otherwise drab outfit. A year ago I started playing around with making my own jewellery. I started off with the simplest of tools, findings and beads. As time went by, those skills improved, and I thought to myself, hey, why not try to sell them?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My first sale was actually to &lt;a href="http://geekchic.notdesign.net/"&gt;Geekchic&lt;/a&gt;. She saw some beautiful knitting row counters disguised as bracelets, and asked me if I could make her one. I did, and I'm glad she liked it. With her encouragement, I approached a few haberdasheries to see if they were interested in looking at my handmade knitting accessories. I was completely over the moon when one of them purchased all of my stitch markers. It was a sign.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wasn't contented on selling my pieces on a blog. Please don't get me wrong, there's absolutely &lt;em&gt;nothing&lt;/em&gt; wrong with having a blog shop. But I was very keen on learning more about e-commerce and how to actually set up a shopping cart system on the website, so I decided that there wasn't a better time to pick it up. It wasn't easy, that much I can tell you. Doing everything from scratch was a great experience, exhausting, but exhilarating all the same. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Alrighty then, I've talked far too much now. Without further ado, please let me welcome you to my new baby, &lt;a href="http://www.sweetcontemplationaccessories.com/"&gt;Sweet Contemplation Accessories&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sweetcontemplationaccessories.com/"&gt;&lt;img alt="SCA Screenshot" class="aligncenter" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/Beauty/sca_screenshot.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
All pieces are handmade, especially the chainmaille ones. I am a HUGE fan of chainmaille jewellery, and I think the complexity of the designs (and how rare it is found in retail shops out there) give them such an appeal.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm running a &lt;a href="http://www.beautyholicsanonymous.com/2009/10/announcing-sweet-contemplation-accessories-and-a-giveaway/"&gt;giveaway on my beauty blog&lt;/a&gt; if you would like to check it out and participate.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's such a change, and I love every challenging bit. I'm praying hard that it will go well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-7950120501375619950?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/Knbmc7SDDuo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/Knbmc7SDDuo/my-new-project.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/10/my-new-project.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-7077222269568726408</guid><pubDate>Thu, 15 Oct 2009 02:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-15T13:42:06.792+11:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personal</category><title>The Trouble With Money</title><description>You know when they refute it is not money that is the root of all evil, but the LOVE of money is? I believe both are statements are true. Sure you can love money too much to the point of destruction. But money on its own, the subject matter of it, can bring about catastrophic consequences. No, I don't mean literally mean we can start wars because of money alone (or can we?), but let's look at it in a micro level, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When money comes between two people, whether it's your partner, a family member, a friend, things are sure to go nasty if things are to go awry. It doesn't mean I love money so much that I must have all of it, hence breaking all ties if the need arises. I meant that money alone, even if it was just a few dollars, can make or break relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rememebered getting angry at a very dear friend of mine over money. I was frazzled with wedding preparations, and so was she. Our stress levels were so high that I finally snapped at her over something which shouldn't have even come up. She apologised, gave her reasons and all was good again. In hindsight, I was so relieved that things did not turn out ugly for us, and that she still remained a very close mate. If she had turned nasty and I hit back (you know how it goes), goodness knows what would result. All over money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder if it's better to lose some money than to lose a friend. I don't mean heaps of money (that's another story), but perhaps a couple of hundred dollars. Sure there's that thing called principles. It's not the money, it's my principles that count. I was right. He/she was wrong. So there. A relationship that takes years to build and nurture can be destructed in just a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it worth it? Couldn't we just say "&lt;i&gt;Okay let's put this behind us. It's just money. It's not worth jeopardising a friendship&lt;/i&gt;"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only the words could so easily come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-7077222269568726408?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/7sSXFNXQH-E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/7sSXFNXQH-E/trouble-with-money.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/10/trouble-with-money.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-8570244009933767592</guid><pubDate>Fri, 09 Oct 2009 07:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-09T18:11:07.325+11:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">General</category><title>Something New Coming Soon</title><description>I haven't been updating for a while now. I've been very busy the past few months as I, believe it or not, am starting a small business on the Internet, selling my very own handmade jewellery. Not contented with putting my pieces up for sale on a blog front, I did up a website from scratch. It was a real challenge indeed, from making the jewellery, learning about e-commerce, photographing the pieces, adding them in one by one, to studying small business laws and legislation in Australia. It may be small, but I'm more than determined to make it work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to make it "official", so to speak, I've actually registered the business name with Business Victoria of Consumer Affairs Victoria and will be applying for an ABN (Australian Business Number). If all goes well, and I pray hard that it does, I'll actually be *gulp* paying taxes too. Talk about a catch-22.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be announcing the website very soon, so do stay tuned. And yeah, I reckon I can actually call myself a small business owner soon. Really excited about it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-8570244009933767592?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/sTg-jz-XZIA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/sTg-jz-XZIA/something-new-coming-soon.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/10/something-new-coming-soon.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-8160395192464687098</guid><pubDate>Thu, 01 Oct 2009 10:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-10-01T20:38:27.771+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personal</category><title>Getting The Husband on Twitter</title><description>I remembered when I first applied for a Twitter account, I wasn't at all keen on the idea. In fact, I placed it here, completely forgot about updating the darn thing, removed it, and put it back again when I finally got the hang of it. And now I'm addicted to the darn thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept bugging Tim to get on board but he wouldn't be bothered. Even though he kept saying that he should tweet (or at least write) about the stupid things he see on the telly. In the end, I signed up for an account for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And his first tweet? It was somewhere along the lines of &lt;i&gt;"my wife forced me to get on Twitter"&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gee thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-8160395192464687098?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/kRuq6f-xFYg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/kRuq6f-xFYg/getting-husband-on-twitter.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/10/getting-husband-on-twitter.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-7894641748103023738</guid><pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2009 21:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-10T07:12:00.204+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Humour</category><title>Things You Learn From Movies</title><description>I received this hilarious email from my dad in the morning, and I just had to share it with you. If you nodded vigorously and laughed at each point about Chinese and Indian movies, then you've definitely watched a lot of them. Well, I certainly did. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;*******************************************************&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Things You Need to Know About Chinese Swordsman Movies&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;img alt="20090910 Chinese Movie" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/zhang_zi_yi_michelle_yeoh_crouching.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. Being the hero's parents will always be unlucky and will usually be killed by enemies when the hero is young, and the hero will become an orphan.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. When a man is wounded and dying, he always manage to catch his breath and speak a few sentences to reveal the killer before dropping his head and declared dead.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. Skilled people are able to fly over roof tops, up trees and across distances without any sweat. But when travelling to towns and villages, they still have to walk or ride horses.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. The heroes need not have to work for money, but will always have gold and silvers with them to pay for their dishes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. The heroes and villains will meet each other very often no matter how big the country is and no matter where they are.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
6. Healing internal wounds in the body is as easy as sitting down cross-legged, palms on the knees and smoke coming out from the head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
7. They can keep a lot of stuff in their sleeves and waistband and never drop them (carrying especially lots of those gold and silver ingots)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Things You Would Never Know Without Indian Movies&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;center&gt;&lt;img alt="20090910 Indian Movie" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/bollywood.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. A man will show no pain while taking the most ferocious beating but will wince when a woman tries to cleanse his wounds.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. The hero cannot fall in love with the heroine (vice versa) unless they first perform a dance number in the rain.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. Once applied, make-up is permanent, in rain or in any other situation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. Two lovers can be dancing in the field and out of nowhere, 100 people will appear from god-knows-where and join them in the dance.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. In the final scene, the hero will discover that the bad guy who he is up against is actually his brother and the maid who looked after him is his mother and the chief inspector is his father and the Judge is his uncle and so forth.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
6. Key English words used in the movie (usually said out loud between sentences) are No Problem!, My God!, Get Out!, Shut-up!, Impossible!, Please forgive me!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
7. They drop down on the ground and roll and roll while singing and come out with different clothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
8. They can run around the coconut trees, singing, batting eyes-lid, throwing glances at each other and change clothes all at the same time without being out of breath.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-7894641748103023738?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/i1r5OthNNUw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/i1r5OthNNUw/things-you-learn-from-movies.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/09/things-you-learn-from-movies.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-2794922396319783572</guid><pubDate>Wed, 09 Sep 2009 00:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-09-09T14:18:04.706+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personal</category><title>Gifts From Past Loves</title><description>What do you do with gifts past loves gave you? Do you keep them? Chuck them if the relationship went so sour that you can't even bear the thought of keeping any remnants of that relationship in your life? What do you do when you see gifts that your partner's past loves gave him/her? Do you ask him/her to keep these items away, or do you throw them away yourself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pondered these questions for a long time. Even though I'm now married, and happily so, I admit that I still keep a box or two of items given by past boyfriends. I don't have them with me in Australia, but they're still in the cupboard tucked away in my room at my parents' house. I've had relationships that ended amicably, and also one that ended badly, but I still keep the items they gave me regardless. Should I have thrown them out? I didn't bring any into my marital home, of course. They belong to the life I left behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the first boyfriend I had, believe it or not, I kept everything he gave me. Even though I do not display the framed photographs anymore, some of the items in the room are still there. That person was my first love, and was part of my life for over 5 years. I didn't see the need to have to remove them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next relationship bit the big one. After it was over, even though I didn't throw the items he gave me away, I stored them in a paper bag, and shoved it deep into my cupboard, so that I may never see them again. And for a long time I didn't even want to take them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I took out a photo frame that my husband once bought to keep a picture of himself with an ex-girlfriend. Back when I first asked him about the frame (a couple of years ago, methinks), why it was kept away and not used, he told me what it was used for. I felt a twinge inside, and it wasn't good. I was actually jealous of something which happened a long time ago, and that it was still there in the wardrobe. I felt as though its presence was mocking me. Tim would have chucked it if I wanted him to, but I simply told him to leave it alone. After all, it belonged to him, not me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to yesterday. I finally took the photo frame out, and I felt nothing. In fact, all I saw was, simply, an unused frame. There was no twinge, no mocking. It was all in my head. Rather than putting it to waste, I printed out a photo of us, taken at Brighton Beach, put it in the frame, and placed it on my side table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was when I've made the decision, that when I return to Malaysia next, I shall finally take that paper bag out, and donate the items to charity. I don't need them taking up space in the cupboard anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-2794922396319783572?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/W1Qh7mlgv1g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/W1Qh7mlgv1g/gifts-from-past-loves.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/09/gifts-from-past-loves.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-1484223534449801564</guid><pubDate>Mon, 31 Aug 2009 01:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-31T11:41:03.274+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">General</category><title>Tiny Ice Pebbles</title><description>Last week's crazy winds and rainstorm brought this to our balcony carpet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/DSC00179.jpg" alt="20090831 Sleet" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleet! I haven't seen sleet since I left the UK. I remembered how painful it was to be outdoors without an umbrella when sleet was hailing down like they were high on steroids. It was definitely NOT fun to have tiny pieces of ice whacking your face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-1484223534449801564?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/yHgV6L4-eaE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/yHgV6L4-eaE/tiny-ice-pebbles.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/08/tiny-ice-pebbles.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-4180739683453680125</guid><pubDate>Wed, 26 Aug 2009 22:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-27T08:52:27.410+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personal</category><title>The Book List</title><description>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/tt0600813.jpg" alt="20090827 Books" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Charles W. Eliot in The Happy Life (1896)&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this at &lt;a href="http://lifeminiseries.com/?p=681"&gt;May&lt;/a&gt;'s, and thought I'd nick it and see if I've read any of the books on BBC's must-read book list. Apparently, the average person would have read 6 out of the 100 books listed below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crossed out ones are the books I've read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Lord of the Rings&lt;/span&gt;, JRR Tolkien &lt;em&gt;(I only managed the first ten pages. Sigh)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;2. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pride and Prejudice&lt;/span&gt;, Jane Austen&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;His Dark Materials&lt;/span&gt;, Philip Pullman&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy&lt;/span&gt;, Douglas Adams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;5. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire&lt;/span&gt;, JK Rowling&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;To Kill a Mockingbird&lt;/span&gt;, Harper Lee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;7. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Winnie the Pooh&lt;/span&gt;, AA Milne&lt;/del&gt; &lt;em&gt;(finished this at the bookstore. It's counted, right?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nineteen Eighty-Four&lt;/span&gt;, George Orwell&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe&lt;/span&gt;, CS Lewis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;10. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Jane Eyre&lt;/span&gt;, Charlotte Brontë&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Catch-22&lt;/span&gt;, Joseph Heller&lt;br /&gt;12.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Wuthering Heights&lt;/span&gt;, Emily Brontë&lt;br /&gt;13. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Birdsong&lt;/span&gt;, Sebastian Faulks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;14. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt;, Daphne du Maurier&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Catcher in the Rye&lt;/span&gt;, JD Salinger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;16. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Wind in the Willows&lt;/span&gt;, Kenneth Grahame&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;17. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Great Expectations&lt;/span&gt;, Charles Dickens&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;18. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little Women&lt;/span&gt;, Louisa May Alcott&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Captain Corelli’s Mandolin&lt;/span&gt;, Louis de Bernieres&lt;br /&gt;20. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;War and Peace&lt;/span&gt;, Leo Tolstoy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;21. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gone with the Wind&lt;/span&gt;, Margaret Mitchell&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;22. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Harry Potter And The Philosopher’s Stone&lt;/span&gt;, JK Rowling&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;23. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets&lt;/span&gt;, JK Rowling&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;24. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban&lt;/span&gt;, JK Rowling&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Hobbit&lt;/span&gt;, JRR Tolkien &lt;em&gt;(couldn't even do #1, never mind this)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;26. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tess Of The D’Urbervilles&lt;/span&gt;, Thomas Hardy&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Middlemarch&lt;/span&gt;, George Eliot&lt;br /&gt;28. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Prayer For Owen&lt;/span&gt; Meany, John Irving&lt;br /&gt;29. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Grapes Of Wrath&lt;/span&gt;, John Steinbeck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;30. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland&lt;/span&gt;, Lewis Carroll&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Story Of Tracy Beaker&lt;/span&gt;, Jacqueline Wilson&lt;br /&gt;32. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;One Hundred Years Of Solitude&lt;/span&gt;, Gabriel García Márquez&lt;br /&gt;33. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Pillars Of The Earth&lt;/span&gt;, Ken Follett&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;34. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;David Copperfield&lt;/span&gt;, Charles Dickens&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Charlie And The Chocolate Factory&lt;/span&gt;, Roald Dahl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;36. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Treasure Island&lt;/span&gt;, Robert Louis Stevenson&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Town Like Alice&lt;/span&gt;, Nevil Shute&lt;br /&gt;38. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Persuasion&lt;/span&gt;, Jane Austen&lt;br /&gt;39. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dune&lt;/span&gt;, Frank Herbert&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;40. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Emma&lt;/span&gt;, Jane Austen&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;41. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Anne Of Green Gables&lt;/span&gt;, LM Montgomery&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Watership Down&lt;/span&gt;, Richard Adams&lt;br /&gt;43. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Great Gatsby&lt;/span&gt;, F Scott Fitzgerald&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;44. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Count Of Monte Cristo&lt;/span&gt;, Alexandre Dumas&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Brideshead Revisited&lt;/span&gt;, Evelyn Waugh&lt;br /&gt;46. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Animal Farm&lt;/span&gt;, George Orwell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;47. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Christmas Carol&lt;/span&gt;, Charles Dickens&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;48. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Far From The Madding Crowd&lt;/span&gt;, Thomas Hardy&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Goodnight Mister Tom&lt;/span&gt;, Michelle Magorian&lt;br /&gt;50. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Shell Seekers&lt;/span&gt;, Rosamunde Pilcher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;51. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Secret Garden&lt;/span&gt;, Frances Hodgson Burnett&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Of Mice And Men&lt;/span&gt;, John Steinbeck&lt;br /&gt;53. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Stand&lt;/span&gt;, Stephen King&lt;br /&gt;54. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Anna Karenina&lt;/span&gt;, Leo Tolstoy&lt;br /&gt;55. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Suitable Boy&lt;/span&gt;, Vikram Seth&lt;br /&gt;56. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The BFG&lt;/span&gt;, Roald Dahl&lt;br /&gt;57. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Swallows And Amazons&lt;/span&gt;, Arthur Ransome&lt;br /&gt;58. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Black Beauty&lt;/span&gt;, Anna Sewell&lt;br /&gt;59. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Artemis Fowl&lt;/span&gt;, Eoin Colfer&lt;br /&gt;60. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Crime And Punishment&lt;/span&gt;, Fyodor Dostoyevsky&lt;br /&gt;61. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Noughts And Crosses&lt;/span&gt;, Malorie Blackman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;62. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Memoirs Of A Geisha&lt;/span&gt;, Arthur Golden&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;63. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Tale Of Two Cities&lt;/span&gt;, Charles Dickens&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Thorn Birds&lt;/span&gt;, Colleen McCollough&lt;br /&gt;65. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mort&lt;/span&gt;, Terry Pratchett&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;66. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Magic Faraway Tree&lt;/span&gt;, Enid Blyton&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Magus&lt;/span&gt;, John Fowles&lt;br /&gt;68. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Good Omens&lt;/span&gt;, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman&lt;br /&gt;69. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Guards! Guards!&lt;/span&gt;, Terry Pratchett&lt;br /&gt;70. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lord Of The Flies&lt;/span&gt;, William Golding&lt;br /&gt;71. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Perfume&lt;/span&gt;, Patrick Süskind&lt;br /&gt;72. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists&lt;/span&gt;, Robert Tressell&lt;br /&gt;73. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Night Watch&lt;/span&gt;, Terry Pratchett&lt;br /&gt;74. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Matilda&lt;/span&gt;, Roald Dahl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;75. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bridget Jones’s Diary&lt;/span&gt;, Helen Fielding&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;76. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Secret History&lt;/span&gt;, Donna Tartt&lt;br /&gt;77. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Woman In White&lt;/span&gt;, Wilkie Collins&lt;br /&gt;78. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ulysses&lt;/span&gt;, James Joyce&lt;br /&gt;79. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bleak House&lt;/span&gt;, Charles Dickens&lt;br /&gt;80. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Double Act&lt;/span&gt;, Jacqueline Wilson&lt;br /&gt;81. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Twits&lt;/span&gt;, Roald Dahl&lt;br /&gt;82. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Capture The Castle&lt;/span&gt;, Dodie Smith&lt;br /&gt;83. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Holes&lt;/span&gt;, Louis Sachar&lt;br /&gt;84. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gormenghast&lt;/span&gt;, Mervyn Peake&lt;br /&gt;85. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The God Of Small Things&lt;/span&gt;, Arundhati Roy&lt;br /&gt;86. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vicky Angel&lt;/span&gt;, Jacqueline Wilson&lt;br /&gt;87. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Brave New World&lt;/span&gt;, Aldous Huxley&lt;br /&gt;88. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cold Comfort Farm&lt;/span&gt;, Stella Gibbons&lt;br /&gt;89. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Magician&lt;/span&gt;, Raymond E Feist&lt;br /&gt;90. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;On The Road&lt;/span&gt;, Jack Kerouac&lt;br /&gt;91. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Godfather&lt;/span&gt;, Mario Puzo&lt;br /&gt;92. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Clan Of The Cave Bear&lt;/span&gt;, Jean M Auel&lt;br /&gt;93. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Colour Of Magic&lt;/span&gt;, Terry Pratchett&lt;br /&gt;94. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Alchemist&lt;/span&gt;, Paulo Coelho&lt;br /&gt;95. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Katherine&lt;/span&gt;, Anya Seton&lt;br /&gt;96. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kane And Abel&lt;/span&gt;, Jeffrey Archer&lt;br /&gt;97. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Love In The Time Of Cholera&lt;/span&gt;, Gabriel García Márquez&lt;br /&gt;98. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Girls In Love&lt;/span&gt;, Jacqueline Wilson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;del&gt;99. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Princess Diaries&lt;/span&gt;, Meg Cabot&lt;/del&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Midnight’s Children&lt;/span&gt;, Salman Rushdie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only 27 out of 100. I haven't read as many classics as I'd have liked. These days I don't seem to have the capacity to sit through heavy fictions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I hardly read fiction these days. Most of the items on my reading list in the past months have been non-fiction (mostly finance). Either those or glossy mags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I miss the days when I was so engrossed in a good book, I'd stay up till the wee hours of the morning just to get to the last page. I know of people who'd skip the middle pages and go directly to the last chapter (or even just the last couple of pages) to see what the ending's like. I never understood that. What's the point in reading a book then, if all you wanted to know is the ending? It's not just the destination that matters, it's also the journey, is it not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I should get back to that reading list above. There are plenty of books in that list I'd love to read. Thank goodness for the inexpensive Penguin classics available at Target (also available at Borders, but the same books are cheaper at Target). I'm going to get me some of those. Hopefully I'd be able to cross off more books on that list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-4180739683453680125?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/GdwNMxDaluY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/GdwNMxDaluY/book-list.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/08/book-list.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-1545904021806865313</guid><pubDate>Thu, 13 Aug 2009 21:42:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-15T16:00:56.409+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personal</category><title>Shoop Shoop</title><description>&lt;i&gt;Update: The ski trip was canceled. Hubs was too tired. Oh well, next year then.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess where I'm heading to this Saturday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img alt="20090813 Mt Buller" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/Mtbuller_village.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Image credit: &lt;a href="http://www.snowholidays.com.au/mt_buller.html"&gt;SnowHolidays.com.au&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't done this in years, but I reckon it's time to face my fears and head the skis full on once more. To cut the story short, some kids laughed at me when I tried skiing for the first time, fell down, and couldn't get up. Not only did they &lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt; help me up, they pointed at me, laughed, shouted to their parents what I was doing wrong, and then ran away. Nasty lil' tykes they were. I was traumatised, I tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, let's do this baby one more time, eh? Mt Buller, here I come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-1545904021806865313?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/EXZrFryiVJw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/EXZrFryiVJw/shoop-shoop.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/08/shoop-shoop.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-2280942522255445888</guid><pubDate>Wed, 12 Aug 2009 23:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-13T09:10:27.933+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Rants</category><title>Enough Is Quite Enough</title><description>I'm sorry to have to say this, and you know I never, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt; swear out loud on my blog, but this is it. I've had enough, and am putting an end to this. Those who keep calling me a &lt;i&gt;tai tai&lt;/i&gt; or lady of leisure, can quite frankly, fuck off. Oh yeah, I actually said it. I have the courtesy of not calling you a bloody workaholic or a mindless drone for getting stuck in the office at least 10 hours a day, so you can leave me the hell alone. You don't understand the frustrations I have to go through, so zip your mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do NOT ask for a handout from the husband. I earn my keep, even in the house. I do not "lunch" with other ladies. I do not go shopping everyday (in fact, I only do it once a week, like most of you do). I do not take anything from the government (well okay, except for the pittance of reimbursements from Medicare, and even then, I very hardly see the GP) so you taxpayers can stop whinging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently working on launching something of my own. I know it's taking a lot longer than originally intended, but at least I'm doing something. I hated what I was doing before all those years, and yet, I have the balls to take a different path. I don't know where that road will take me, but I just have to give it a try. I have the support of my husband, my closest friends and even my family (who took quite a bit of convincing at first, but I know they're on board), so who are you to judge?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you ask me if I'm working yet, yes I am. I just don't do it in an sterile environment with cubicles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;PS: Yep, for once I'm actually disallowing comments, something that I very rarely do. So there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-2280942522255445888?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/wNIBOew9xMo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/wNIBOew9xMo/enough-is-quite-enough.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/08/enough-is-quite-enough.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-2331722196963585749</guid><pubDate>Sun, 09 Aug 2009 22:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-10T08:49:18.425+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Humour</category><title>Lawrence Leung's Why Can't I Be More Chinese?</title><description>I don't normally post Youtube videos here, and I know this is probably very late and that it's already widely circulated, but I just have to share this with those who's not seen the video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's &lt;a href="http://www.lawrenceleung.com/"&gt;Lawrence Leung&lt;/a&gt;, trying to be more Chinese. It's hilarious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uxB4cj5Oh28&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/uxB4cj5Oh28&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as a banana that I am (y'know, yellow on the outside, white on the inside. Hey I've been called that all my life, so I don't find it offensive. Apologies if you do), I'm glad I've got a leg up over him ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-2331722196963585749?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/94ohwKIbv-Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/94ohwKIbv-Q/lawrence-leungs-why-cant-i-be-more.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/08/lawrence-leungs-why-cant-i-be-more.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-3887462340104166974</guid><pubDate>Tue, 04 Aug 2009 02:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-08-04T13:03:15.390+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personal</category><title>Guilty Pleasures</title><description>Ahh guilty pleasures. Those little things you do in secret that give you an immense high. I don't mean sex and drugs, of course. I've got lots of little guilty pleasures that I enjoy. Like reading trashy mags while I'm in the loo. Sneaking a cheese slice and ham from the fridge without forming a sandwich. And many more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's your guilty pleasure?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-3887462340104166974?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/sX1EQYvPskU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/sX1EQYvPskU/guilty-pleasures.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/08/guilty-pleasures.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-2778693596845547667</guid><pubDate>Tue, 21 Jul 2009 23:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-22T09:37:49.645+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Recipes</category><title>Comfort Food</title><description>With the cold winter winds and rain beating on our windows, hot comfort food for dinner is the key to keeping warm. And what better dish to serve in the winter than a hearty meat pie (also a great way to use up the beer my parents left behind). I served the pie with some roasted winter vegies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_0537.jpg" alt="20090722 Beef and Beer Pie 1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_0532.jpg" alt="20090722 Beef and Beer Pie 2" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_0549.jpg" alt="20090722 Beef and Beer Pie 3" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I didn't have a smaller casserole dish, hence the small amount of filling compared to the pastry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;BEEF AND BEER PIE&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup plain flour&lt;br /&gt;400g beef chuck steak, trimmed and cut into approximately 3cm pieces&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons olive oil&lt;br /&gt;1 large brown onion, chopped&lt;br /&gt;2 medium carrots, chopped&lt;br /&gt;Champignons (button mushrooms) - I used half a can&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons tomato paste&lt;br /&gt;1 tablespoon worcestershire sauce&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 cups beef stock&lt;br /&gt;345ml bottle lager beer (I used VB)&lt;br /&gt;1 sheet ready-rolled frozen puff pastry, partially thawed&lt;br /&gt;1 egg, lightly beaten&lt;br /&gt;2 teaspoons sesame seeds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Place flour in a large bowl. Add beef, and toss to coat.&lt;br /&gt;2. Heat half the oil in a large saucepan over high heat.&lt;br /&gt;3. Cook beef in batches, for 4 to 5 minutes or until browned. Transfer to a plate.&lt;br /&gt;4. Heat remaining oil in pan over medium-high heat. Cook onion and carrot, stirring for 5 minutes or until onion has softened.&lt;br /&gt;5. Return beef to pan. Add tomato paste. Stir to coat.&lt;br /&gt;6. Add worcestershire sauce, stock and beer. Bring to the boil. Reduce heat to low.&lt;br /&gt;7. Simmer, partially covered, for 1 1/2 hours or until beef is tender. Set aside to cool.&lt;br /&gt;8. Preheat oven to 200C/180C fan-forced.&lt;br /&gt;9. Spoon mixture into a 6 cup-capacity overproof dish. Top with pastry, trimming excess.&lt;br /&gt;10. Brush pastry with egg. Sprinkle with sesame seeds.&lt;br /&gt;11. Bake for 30 minutes or until golden.&lt;br /&gt;12. Let the pie rest for a couple of minutes after it's baked, and then serve. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I actually forgot about the beef stock when I made this. But I reckon it made the dish more flavoursome, as the beer was reduced to a thick gravy, which complemented the beef very well.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was quite liberal with the worcestershire sauce. I just poured until it reached the flavour I wanted, which was a bit more bite than what the original recipe would have produced. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The funny-looking square thing on top of the pastry puff was leftover pastry which I cut off to fit the roasting tin. Let's not waste what can be eaten. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_0541.jpg" alt="20090722 Beef and Beer Pie 4" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;SEASONED WINTER VEGIES&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few dashes of olive oil&lt;br /&gt;2 carrots&lt;br /&gt;1/2 butternut pumpkin&lt;br /&gt;1 large potato&lt;br /&gt;Dried sea salt&lt;br /&gt;Dried oregano leaves&lt;br /&gt;Dried rosemary leaves&lt;br /&gt;Fresh sprigs of thyme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Preheat oven to 180C/160C fan-forced.&lt;br /&gt;2. Chop vegies and season generously with a combination of the salt and herbs.&lt;br /&gt;3. Roast vegetables in a roasting tin for 50 minutes&lt;br /&gt;4. Take the dish out of the oven every 15 minutes to toss the vegies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These two dishes are easy to make, and cheap too. All in all, I spent about ten bucks for the dinner. Talk about savings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-2778693596845547667?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/xoCAFTmZDVs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/xoCAFTmZDVs/comfort-food.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/07/comfort-food.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-5495504962157655381</guid><pubDate>Tue, 21 Jul 2009 12:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-21T22:20:40.167+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personal</category><title>@#$%!</title><description>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/pdre040676.jpg" alt="20090721 Swearing" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's double standards for me when it comes to swearing. I do it (not that often, but enough), but I can't stand it when other people swear. It's terrible (me, that is). My parents hate it when my brother and I swear in the house, so the worst we say are "shit" and "bitch". Up to now, I've never heard my parents drop the F-bomb, not even when they're really angry, or in the presence of friends. To be honest, I don't think I'd be comfortable in hearing them using the word, so I'm thankful they're reserved enough to keep it to themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered chastising an ex-boyfriend when we started dating because he was very loose with the tongue when it came to Hokkien cuss words. Now as much as I don't like hearing people swear, English cuss words are, oddly, tolerable. It's the Hokkien ones which repulse me to no end. I don't know why. I was very glad that towards the end of that relationship, the frequency of hearing those words decreased significantly. Nope, it wasn't my doing :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oddly though, when I was in the US last year for about 10 days, I've only heard swearing once. ONCE! In Melbourne, I hear it every day. On the streets, on the train, on the bus, etc. Does that mean that Australians swear more? I really have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit that ever since I moved to Melbourne, I've been swearing a lot more than I have in the past 20-odd years. I too, lace my words with the F-bomb ever so often. I completely draw the line at using words with genitals in them, but other than that, I'm afraid I too, am guilty. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to wash my mouth with soap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-5495504962157655381?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/LUD-CumjJSI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/LUD-CumjJSI/blog-post.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/07/blog-post.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-5735306044584825570</guid><pubDate>Tue, 14 Jul 2009 06:43:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-14T16:46:40.802+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">General</category><title>Of Masterchef and Eating in Australia</title><description>&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/logo_masterchef.gif" alt="Masterchef Logo" align="left" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.masterchef.com.au/"&gt;Masterchef Australia&lt;/a&gt; will be ending this week, and I'm actually sad to see it go. I've been following the reality TV show very closely ever since it started a few months ago. I even saw George Calombaris at The Press Club during my &lt;a href="http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/06/turning-twenty-nine.html"&gt;birthday dinner&lt;/a&gt; with the hubs (oh yeah, I was starstruck. Even more than when Gordon Ramsay walked into the restaurant an hour later).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some thoughts about the show - I'm torn between Justine and Poh to win. If they were to run an audience voting system, you bet I'll be wasting money on text messages. That's how hooked I can be to reality TV. Tsk tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about watching Masterchef, and living in Australia, has somewhat turned me into a food snob. I'm now pretty particular about what I eat. I love fresh produce, and the fact that it's so readily available to me. Good food doesn't have to be expensive. In fact, I've had some swell meals in obscure, cheapo restaurants, and crappy ones at expensive restaurants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have all these turned me into a fantastic cook? Definitely not, but at least I'm now better than I was before. At least, I hope I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-5735306044584825570?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/fE4bBczTfag" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/fE4bBczTfag/of-masterchef-and-eating-in-australia.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/07/of-masterchef-and-eating-in-australia.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-3066257416588748130</guid><pubDate>Mon, 22 Jun 2009 06:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-22T16:05:51.075+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">General</category><title>St Ali Coffee</title><description>The housemate and I went out for lunch last Friday, and then headed for coffee at this place which he recommended, &lt;a href="http://www.stali.com.au/"&gt;St Ali&lt;/a&gt;, at South Melbourne. I don't believe I've drank that much coffee in my life before I came to Australia. This country is like Mecca for coffee or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the cappuccino I had was a lot smoother than most caps I've drunk, which was good. Oh, and it came like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/DSC00149.jpg" alt="20090622 Coffee from St Ali South Melbourne" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The artwork I normally see on other coffee tops were never that clear and precise. Thanks to the massive amount of chocolate they placed on the foam, they managed to come up with a very beautiful leaf. I was very impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen how the "drawing" of the leaf was done, and it didn't look very difficult. Very gently pour the milk in, swish left to right and back several times, and then pour a straight line from the top to the bottom to form the 'stem'. And all this while, I thought these baristas used a template or something. St Ali's &lt;a href="http://stalimelbourne.wordpress.com/2009/06/13/giotto-espresso-machine-bean-scene/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; has some lovely photos of how it's done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, if I were to attempt this, I'd end up with an awful mess. Methinks I'll just stick to my usual 3-in-1 coffee for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-3066257416588748130?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/f_yiLE9acbo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/f_yiLE9acbo/st-ali-coffee.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/06/st-ali-coffee.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-3667773190892880703</guid><pubDate>Sun, 14 Jun 2009 23:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-15T09:40:04.267+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Crafts</category><title>Another Scarf Done</title><description>Thanks to &lt;a href="http://geekchic.notdesign.net/"&gt;Geekchic&lt;/a&gt;, I've been bitten by the knitting bug once more. Have been knitting on and off for a bit (mostly off), but when you have a knitting buddy, it's very easy to get on the wagon once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought this beautiful wool-alpaca yarn from &lt;a href="http://www.morrisandsons.com.au/catalog/main.php"&gt;Morris and Sons&lt;/a&gt;, and with just one ball, I finished this, using the stockinette stitch, in probably a total of 3 hours. Slow by the knitting people's standards, I'm sure, but for a rookie like me, it's my fastest record thus far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_0187.jpg" alt="20090614 Wool Alpaca Scarf" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really soft, and the yarn's just gorgeous. Unfortunately, I cannot wear this with my black coat as it sheds like crazy. Oh well, can't win 'em all. It's also the most expensive piece of yarn I've bought so far. Thank goodness at 37 bucks per ball, I only need one to make a scarf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Tis a pity I didn't leave enough yarn to make pom poms at the end. That would complete the look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*hugging the soft scarf*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-3667773190892880703?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/bYgrLV0jnmE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/bYgrLV0jnmE/another-scarf-done.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/06/another-scarf-done.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-4901531763546087540</guid><pubDate>Thu, 11 Jun 2009 05:08:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-11T15:24:19.337+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personal</category><title>Turning Twenty Nine</title><description>&lt;i&gt;Note: Thanks for all the warm birthday wishes on my birthday via phone calls, text messages, Twitter and Facebook. You guys really made my day :)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned 29 six days ago. After my rants on how incredibly low I felt when I turned 27 and that one should shoot me when I hit the big 3-0, this year's birthday actually turned out to be the best I've had in years. To risk sounding like a complete sap, it was all thanks to the husband. Awww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started when my parents were in Melbourne for a visit. On the day they were going to leave Australia, Tim came home from work with a cake. I thought we were going to celebrate a belated Mother's Day with my mum, but it was actually a birthday cake. He thought it would be nice to have the family celebrate my birthday together, albeit a little early, before my parents left. It was a very sweet gesture as I hadn't celebrated my birthday with the parents in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/birthday09_4.jpg" alt="Birthday Gifts 2009 1" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;June 1&lt;/b&gt; - Tim and I decided to head out to dinner. As he was on call on Saturday, I thought we could do date night on Monday instead after he was back from work. He told me he'd think of a place. Evening came, and he told me we'd be trying out this new Italian place that we've never been to before. I love Italian food, so yeah, I was definitely up for it. When we entered the restaurant, for some reason, I never thought it weird that we were heading to a bigger table instead of a table for two. Come to think about it, I wasn't even looking where I was going!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo and behold, over at the bigger table, were all my close friends. &lt;a href="http://lifeminiseries.com/"&gt;May&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://geekchic.notdesign.net/"&gt;Geekchic&lt;/a&gt; Jen, Dom and Flo. To say I was surprised was an understatement. For someone who's never had a surprise party before, I was utterly dumbstruck. Tim had planned all that behind my back, and I didn't know how to react. After the initial confusion, I was really excited and happy (and super flushed during the evening. My cheeks were hot!). Nothing like the company of dear friends to celebrate your big day together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/birthday09_2.jpg" alt="Birthday Gifts 2009 2" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flowers (my fave!) from my brother-in-law and sister-in-law in Sydney, and a cute towel 'cake' from May&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/birthday09_3.jpg" alt="Birthday Gifts 2009 3" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://geekchic.notdesign.net/"&gt;She&lt;/a&gt; made this for me. Gorgeous cowl scarf. Me heart! &lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/birthday09_1.jpg" alt="Birthday Gifts 2009 4" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lovely L'occitane goodies from my girlfriends in Malaysia, MC and Hester, yummy Koko Black choccies from Dom and Flo, and a beautiful birthday card and facial mask from &lt;a href="http://prettybeautiful.net/"&gt;Hui Xin&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;June 6&lt;/b&gt; - Tim and I headed out on a day trip to &lt;a href="http://www.bawbawcountry.com.au/"&gt;Baw Baw Country&lt;/a&gt;, which was a two-hour drive from Melbourne. The scenery we encountered during the drive was absolutely gorgeous. Even though the day was slightly marred by the fact that I was experiencing really bad cramps, I had a wonderful time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_0012.jpg" alt="20090606 Noojee 1" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_0047.jpg" alt="20090606 Noojee 2" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_0030.jpg" alt="20090606 Noojee 3" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;June 8&lt;/b&gt; - Queen's Birthday. After watching &lt;a href="http://www.masterchef.com.au/"&gt;Masterchef&lt;/a&gt; for a month now (very addicted to the show; will write a post just on that soon), I've been really keen on trying out &lt;a href="http://www.thepressclub.com.au/"&gt;The Press Club&lt;/a&gt;, which belonged to one of the judges in the show, George Calombaris. Little did I know that a week before, Tim had already made reservations for dinner on the Queen's Birthday. Wheee!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was absolutely scrumptious. I was actually, and I'm a little embarrassed to say, starstruck when I saw George Calombaris working in the kitchen. An hour into our dinner, Gordon Ramsay walked into the restaurant. At that time, I didn't know about his &lt;a href="http://www.theage.com.au/news/entertainment/tv--radio/grimshaw-fires-back-at-arrogant-narcissist-ramsay/2009/06/08/1244313080636.html"&gt;sexist remarks about Tracy Grimshaw&lt;/a&gt; (If I did, I would have probably thrown an egg to his face, that arrogant bastard). All I can say is that he's a head taller than George, and that he has a very crinkly face. Kinda like a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shar-Pei"&gt;Shar Pei&lt;/a&gt; :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had been an awesome week. And although I didn't actually get anything tangible from the husband for my birthday (hee hee), all his efforts throughout the week were more than enough. I felt really touched. And loved :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, turning 29 is just another day, another number. The way I see it, it's just closer to the big 3-0 than anything else. Now that, THAT is going to be something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm pretty sure it wouldn't involved me wanting to jump off a bridge.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-4901531763546087540?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/br9V6WlGXd0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/br9V6WlGXd0/turning-twenty-nine.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/06/turning-twenty-nine.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-5455824983164108812</guid><pubDate>Mon, 01 Jun 2009 03:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-01T13:18:12.281+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">General</category><title>My Herb Bucket</title><description>Living in an apartment does not grant me the privilege of a garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you start thinking that I've completely done a 180 degrees change in personality, no, I do not enjoy gardening or have a green thumb for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my cooking, many a time I'd require a selection of herbs. Even though I have bottles of dried herbs, using fresh herbs in my dishes really gives them a better punch of flavour compared to the dried ones. Unfortunately, buying packets of fresh herbs from the supermarket is expensive, especially since I do not use them in every meal. Yes, I can freeze them, but it dries them up, which makes it hardly any difference from using dried herbs from a bottle. After a while, the herbs rot, and I have to chuck them. It's a waste of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, I've decided to buy pots of herbs and keep it on my balcony instead. During a visit to a friend's home, I saw how she potted the herbs into a large bucket, which gave me the idea to do the same as well. A trip to &lt;a href="http://www.rejectshop.com.au/"&gt;The Reject Shop&lt;/a&gt; to get the bucket, and to &lt;a href="http://www.bunnings.com.au/"&gt;Bunnings&lt;/a&gt; to get pots of herbs and potting mix, I was on my way to have my own little herb "garden".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_9913.jpg" alt="20090530 Herb Bucket" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I originally wanted to grow coriander, as that's the herb I use the most in my cooking (on fish, curry, etc). However, after doing plenty of research on the Internet, I found out that coriander is pretty difficult to maintain. It is best that I stick to the easier herbs for now, before I venture into the less hardy plants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_9920.jpg" alt="20090530 Basil" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Basil (not looking good, I'm afraid)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="width: 420px; height: 280px;" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_9924.jpg" alt="20090530 Italian Parsley" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Italian parsley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_9926.jpg" alt="20090530 Pink Rosemary" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pink rosemary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I potted these two months ago. Of the three herbs, the Italian parsley thrived the best. They taste great too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up, I'm going to try my hand at growing chilli and capsicum. They're incredibly pretty in their pots, with the vibrant red and yellow against the green.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-5455824983164108812?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/Di4OCsFDH-U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/Di4OCsFDH-U/my-herb-bucket.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/06/my-herb-bucket.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-5752227895198795742</guid><pubDate>Fri, 29 May 2009 22:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-30T09:55:13.249+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Personal</category><title>Dear 16-Year Old Tine</title><description>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img alt="20090530 Poppies at Tessalar" src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/IMG_5146.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were to meet you face to face, I'd see a fresh-faced young girl, in her blue pinafore, bad hair, braces in her teeth, and a wide and engaging smile. I'd see someone happy, eager and ready to face whatever the world has to offer (world being Form 4).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd see me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At sixteen, you weren't sure what the year would bring you. You've read enough teenage love stories to know about what it's like for a girl when she turns sweet sixteen, but you didn't have that feeling. You didn't have boyfriends or go to parties. You just lived the way you did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At sixteen, you experienced, for the first time, what failing in your studies was like. Three times, in fact, in getting an F in Physics and Chemistry. These were never your strong points to begin with, but oddly enough, you ended up being an engineer. That's irony for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At sixteen, you became best of friends with two girls who ended up being your bridesmaids at your wedding. It was wonderful, by the way, the wedding. You married someone you met in the UK, whom you never thought would end up spending the rest of your life with. And he loves you dearly. Well, not 16-year old you, obviously. And you're still keeping in touch with the girls, who have both grown up to be fine ladies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At sixteen, you hadn't a care in the world, and why would you? It was simply those carefree days in which you grew up with books and telephones, not computers and mobile phones. And you lived it well without those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At sixteen, you were painfully shy around boys. Till now, I cannot tell you why it was so that you couldn't speak to boys without getting red and tongue-tied then. Not to worry though, as you grow older, you'll find that many of your close friends will be boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At sixteen, you hardly went out. You had (still have, by the way) overprotective parents who would not allow you to parties and overnight stays with friends. They would call you every 15 minutes past 10.30pm if you weren't back home by then. And all these happened when you didn't even have a mobile phone (they'd call your friends). You were embarrassed, humiliated and angry at them for the restrictions. You rebelled every chance you could by sneaking away to places they wouldn't allow you to. It would only be much later in life that you finally understood why they did what they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have changed, you know. Not immensely, but enough for you to recognise that change if you were to meet your 29-year old self today. For someone who barely understood sarcasm, you're now cynical. Not to the point where you're incredibly jaded to the world, but enough to know that life is not a bed of roses. Believe it or not, it is a good change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to tell you what life for you is going to be after sixteen. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and for that, everything you are about to experience will make you the person you are today. It's not going to be an easy road to travel on, but walk it you must.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hints of what life will be for you as you enter your twenties: you'll fall in love at a tender age. You'll live in the UK for a few years, and those will be some of the best years of your life. You'll make some very bad decisions in your twenties; those bad decisions and consequences will be etched in your memory as long as you live. You'll finally understand how painful it can be when your heart breaks. You'll also realise that during that time, your family is the rock in which you will cling to, for they love you with all their hearts no matter what. You'll find happiness once more, and know what it means to really love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be too hasty to grow up. Enjoy those years of school, where you'd have nothing to worry about except getting good grades and sailing through SPM. You'll have plenty of time to experience what life overseas would be like. What the working world like like. What falling in love is like. What intense heartbreak is like. What life really is like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have fun. Laugh, cry, study hard and build friendships. There's plenty of time to conquer the world later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;~29 Year Old Tine~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;30 May 2009&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-5752227895198795742?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/FgPlmZ34BzA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/FgPlmZ34BzA/dear-16-year-old-tine.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">10</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/05/dear-16-year-old-tine.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-5239640978466752933</guid><pubDate>Fri, 29 May 2009 02:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-29T12:30:42.253+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">General</category><title>The Weekend Beckons</title><description>The weekend approaches. I've got nothing planned. The idea of chilling out with a book sounds just about the ticket. Tim's on call tomorrow, so I'll be on my own. I've thought of heading to the city, but the thought of cramming in a train full of people, especially during the swine flu season, freaked me out a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which, Victoria now has 98 confirmed cases at the time of writing, whereas the rest of the states are not that badly affected. It's scary, is what it is. When I first heard on the news to stock up on food and necessities, I went out and bought quite a bit of canned food and loo paper. Oh yeah, the latter is a necessity. Imagine stuck in a loo without loo paper. Gulp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's up for the weekend with you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-5239640978466752933?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/ukLx7zSTkFQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/ukLx7zSTkFQ/weekend-beckons.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/05/weekend-beckons.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-7759378580130029573</guid><pubDate>Wed, 27 May 2009 22:47:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-28T08:55:57.791+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">General</category><title>016 No More</title><description>Dad emailed me yesterday, and told me that my Malaysian mobile phone number has finally bitten the dust. I've been maintaining that number ever since I came to Australia with Dad's help in sending RM2 to my phone every 3 months just to keep the number activated. I completely forgot about it when I left Malaysia after Chinese New Year this year, thus forgetting to remind him to send that RM2 to the phone. Calls of plea to DiGi did not help. Apparently, when it's dead, it's dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't believe I don't have that phone number anymore. I've had it for six years, and now that it's gone, I'm pretty sad about it. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So people, if you have my Malaysian 016-xxx number, you can feel free to delete that from your address book as it's no longer valid. When I'm back in Malaysia, I'll have to get a new one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sniff*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-7759378580130029573?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/n2NuWDPj4Gs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/n2NuWDPj4Gs/016-no-more.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/05/016-no-more.html</feedburner:origLink></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12672375.post-2084721037820424968</guid><pubDate>Wed, 27 May 2009 04:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-05-27T14:04:47.373+10:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Humour</category><title>Spam Makes Me Laugh Sometimes</title><description>I hate spam. Not the luncheon meat, mind you (now that's something else), but the junk emails I get. Thank goodness for Gmail, whom I think does the best job in filtering out spam from regular emails. Although once in a while, I do get a kick out of checking out the spam I get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This would be what I'd call a WTF subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a357/sweetcontemplation/spam.jpg" alt="Spam clowns and cops" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12672375-2084721037820424968?l=www.sweetcontemplation.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~4/eqAzTE5ugdA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</description><link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/sweetcontemplation/~3/eqAzTE5ugdA/spam-makes-me-laugh-sometimes.html</link><author>sweetcontemplation@gmail.com (Tine)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://www.sweetcontemplation.com/2009/05/spam-makes-me-laugh-sometimes.html</feedburner:origLink></item></channel></rss>
