<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966</id><updated>2011-08-23T03:17:25.444-07:00</updated><category term='Random'/><category term='Life'/><category term='Rants'/><category term='The list'/><category term='spam'/><title type='text'>How Does It End?</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>85</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-5242633949890193867</id><published>2010-04-06T19:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T19:50:47.592-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>One with the Crowd.</title><content type='html'>In a recent resurgence of blogging, I too feel the urge to follow the crowd.&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; (Yeah, I'm a sheeple. Bite me.)&lt;/span&gt; Thus, I present "Things I worry about..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...when I think about going away for Uni&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bad Showers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lack of uber smokin' I-think-you-set-my-eyes-on-fire-hot guys.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Missing my violin&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Not having enough Asian food.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hating the weather&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Things most people worry about for University&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tonnes of work&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Not failing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting jobs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Practical stuff.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Discrepancy? I think so. It's possible that in fact, I don't really care about the school part of school. Why? Because I'm pretty sure school is the same everywhere. Sure, the professors might be better here than over there, or there's a ratio of 1:2.667 teachers per student or whatever it is that people judge quality of schooling by. But in the end, I'm 99% sure that it doesn't matter what school I went to because &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;they all teach the same thing&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this would be different if I wasn't going into engineering. But I am, so let's not get all hypothetical here. I applied to the exact same program which is going to get me the exact same degree at 5 different schools. The only thing different about the schools is their surroundings (and the innards of the buildings). While some schools lure you in with promises of school spirit and parties, others beckon with promises of warm weather and good food. But really, it's the downsides (or lack of) that make the decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not overtly worried about sharing rooms, I mean, if it gets too bad, I could always just request a new room(mate?). But the little things bother me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, showers: People always say that you should wear flip flops into the shower. Footwear just doesn't make for a good shower though! Rubber flip flops always get that icky slimy feeling when wet, and wearing any other material just feels stupid. Who the hell wears leather flip flops to shower in? Nobody, that's who.&lt;br /&gt;It sounds crazy now, but a good shower is key to staying sane. Living in a house with enough water pressure to clean your pores out, I'm setting a pretty high standard. As long as there is sufficient water coming out of the showerhead to rinse shampoo off my head, I think I'll be able to cope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also: My stuff. I have tonnes and tonnes of stuff. Where does it go? I'm not living at home, so there's not reason for my parents to hold onto my stuff. but I certainly can't take it with me, there simply isn't room. Perhaps this is the perfect time to nip my hoarding tendencies in the bud before I star on my own documentary on A&amp;amp;E. "Hoarders: The woman who hoards SPAM"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer to my problems?&lt;br /&gt;Making a perfectly rational Pros and Cons list for each university. How perfectly logical of me.&lt;br /&gt;...Until you realize stuff like "BIG" and "Jizz in Pants Chem Labs" have made it on to the lists. (But those are sort of valid points...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No?&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-5242633949890193867?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/5242633949890193867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2010/04/one-with-crowd.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5242633949890193867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5242633949890193867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2010/04/one-with-crowd.html' title='One with the Crowd.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3388055591777754265</id><published>2010-02-23T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T14:01:22.934-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>For the Love of Newts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://livingaquatic.com/images/buy-fire-belly-newts-online.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 326px; height: 216px;" src="http://livingaquatic.com/images/buy-fire-belly-newts-online.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve always looked upon my friends with mammalian pets with a little jealousy. My nonhuman best friend is a newt. While my friends give their puppies hugs and run their kitten’s bellies, I chip blocks of frozen bloodworms with dull knives. When my friends whisper secrets to their rabbits or guinea pigs, I scrub algae off a rock. When a child gets their first hamster, it’s cooed ever and poked and prodded. When someone gets their first newt, it’s met by screams of “get it away from me!” Not to mention that newts carry salmonella and excrete neurotoxins. But you should be fine if you wash your hands and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But sometimes, when I catch a glimpse of scratches left by a cat who did not want to be bathed, or the hair left by an overeager dog, I smile to myself and silently praise the docile amphibian. My newt may not do cool tricks, but he's not going to eat my favourite earphones or pee on my rug. He might not come running to the door when I come home, but he's not going to bite or scratch me either. Best of all, he's not going to cause any allergies, which is more than I can say for cats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I still feel absurd when I whisper secrets to him. You just can't tell your secrets to an amphibian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(So I should have been writing university applications, but, I got sidetracked into this.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3388055591777754265?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3388055591777754265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2010/02/for-love-of-newts.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3388055591777754265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3388055591777754265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2010/02/for-love-of-newts.html' title='For the Love of Newts'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3977140602377778875</id><published>2010-02-12T18:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T19:41:43.687-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>I'm so 2008</title><content type='html'>Hey, remember this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/twHzXN3kNTs&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/twHzXN3kNTs&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes. Olympic protesters!&lt;br /&gt;What was that? Free Tibet you say? That's funny, because I don't think it had anything to do with the Olympic games that were actually being held. *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*abbreviated because I can rant on about this forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what does have to do with the Olympic games being held &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;right now&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;Vancouver's homeless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's no secret that Vancouver has a huge homeless population, between the high real estate prices, housing shortages, and huge rates of heroin abuse, there's a booming bum population. Interestingly enough between the time Vancouver won the bid for the Olympics and now, the homeless population has doubled &lt;a href="http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20060921/vancouver_homeless_060921/20060921/"&gt;(predicted much earlier)&lt;/a&gt;, and not just because the number of addicts has skyrocketed due to the advertising of "Team Canada Heroin". Housing booms have forced ordinary people out into the streets. But that's what the government's for, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No! Since the Vancouver Olympic Organizing Committee (VANOC) went 5 billion dollars over their 550 million dollar budget and had to be bailed out by the government, anything that isn't feeding/housing/massaging/or killing athletes has been brushed aside. So what did they do about the homeless people? Well, after passing a bill that gave Police free rein to do whatever they damn well like to the homeless (bumfights anyone?) they also forcibly removed them from the area. Funny, apparently there isn't any room in the 5 billion dollar budget to squeeze in a little sommin for the homeless, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh but every city does this" is no excuse for doing it again and again. Every time the Olympics roll around to a city, it brings social havoc. The poor get poorer (and sometimes evicted) while the rich get richer (and score a prime seat at the games). Vancouver really could have used all the money it spent on the Olympics to help out their own city instead of putting in a shining mask for the world. They're not fooling anyone anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of not fooling anyone, what is up with all the aboriginals? Yes, I think it is important to celebrate the native heritage of this country (that is otherwise squashed and relegated to a reserve with contaminated water). But Canada is not 99% aboriginal, which is what some might believe after watching the opening ceremonies. If we really wanted to show what Canada was all about, then there would be a multicultural display of everyone together; different, yet the same. I guess it all boils down to the guilt. Aboriginals are 15 times more likely to become homeless (see above rant.), they're stuck on reserves where it's overcrowded, underdeveloped, and impoverished. To move off the reserve means using money they don't have, because they're on the reserve. And within the reserve, there are all the problems that poverty causes: glue sniffing, alcoholism, suicides. But hey, at least they get some air time to do some throat singing, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure the money that went to sending truckfuls of snow down a mountain would have been much better spent on the city itself, but hey, the Olympic spirit lives on in Canada!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait, no it doesn't. Sure the records are getting faster, stronger and higher, but it's also getting a lot more hostile. Instead of the fair play that is expected of people who want to excel at their sport and display their talents, it's been reduced to doping and exploiting the grey areas in the rule book. Canada has been particularly naughty these years. Researching top secret technologies for the athletes seems a little underhanded. While using technology to improve the sport isn't unfair, it is decidedly unfair to make sure that no one else is able to use the same technology. It's become less about the sport, and more about who has the lowest coefficient of friction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, which one was worth boycotting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Anti Free-Tibet rant coming soon to a blog near you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Homework/references/articles I've read&lt;a href="http://www.walrusmagazine.com/articles/2010.01-sports-faster-higher-sneakier/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Walrus&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.csmonitor.com/Commentary/Opinion/2010/0212/2010-Winter-Olympics-Opening-Ceremony-What-about-Vancouver-s-homeless"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Homeless Issue&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theprovince.com/sports/amateur/university/Guest+editorial+Olympic+sized+distortions+from+merchants+misery/2549438/story.html"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone that holds the opposite point of view&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3977140602377778875?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3977140602377778875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-so-2008.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3977140602377778875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3977140602377778875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-so-2008.html' title='I&apos;m so 2008'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-1955464967451917807</id><published>2010-01-25T12:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T12:36:34.703-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>In Soviet Russia, Newspaper reads you!</title><content type='html'>Let me share with you my favourite way to waste a day:&lt;br /&gt;The ironically titled &lt;a href="http://english.pravda.ru/"&gt;Pravda&lt;/a&gt; news website.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://english.pravda.ru/img/pravda-logo.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 71px;" src="http://english.pravda.ru/img/pravda-logo.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Why so Ironic? Gather around children, it's really simple explanation time.&lt;br /&gt;Pravda is Russian for "truth". And yet, the front page of that site reports its top story as&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Thank You Massachusetts For Killing Me&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Oh, so it's like the Onion? You ask.&lt;br /&gt;No, unfortunately, this site takes itself &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;VERY SERIOUSLY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;History buffs who avidly study the Russian communist revolution will recall that the leading newspaper of the Soviet Union had the same name. Indeed, it did, but it died in 1991 when the Soviet Union died. This site is unaffiliated with the historical newspaper, but it is run by former Pravda employees. Which begs the question, what were they reporting when it was an &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;official&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;newspaper if it's being run by the same people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my favourite articles?&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;a href="http://english.pravda.ru/society/stories/22-01-2010/111753-blonde-0" class="articlelist-2title"&gt;Aggressive Blonde Creatures Are Very Bad at Getting Jokes&lt;/a&gt;" in the Society Section..&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;a href="http://english.pravda.ru/science/health/25-01-2010/111830-3d_films-0" class="articlelist-toptitle"&gt;3D Films Can Make You Paranoid &lt;/a&gt;" In Science..&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;a href="http://english.pravda.ru/opinion/columnists/22-01-2010/111786-poland_cruising_bruising-0" class="articlelist-2title"&gt;Poland is Cruising for a Bruising; US Eating Its Own Vomit&lt;/a&gt;" In Opinion...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention the entire series done on an alien supposedly found in an attic. (Generally believed by the rest of the world to be a mummified fetus)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thus concludes another blog post done when I should have been doing something else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-1955464967451917807?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/1955464967451917807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-soviet-russia-newspaper-reads-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1955464967451917807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1955464967451917807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-soviet-russia-newspaper-reads-you.html' title='In Soviet Russia, Newspaper reads you!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3812643131451469499</id><published>2009-12-31T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T15:08:18.013-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Noob Years!</title><content type='html'>HAPPY NEW DECADE/YEAR/END OF 2009!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot express how happy the end of 2009 makes me. It's been an "interesting year" to say the least. Of course, there were good moments, but these were largely overshadowed by all the crap that's been raining out of the skies. For the last week, I've been rolling out of bed very very slowly, partially to avoid being hit by vertigo like a fish to the face, and partially because I feel like 2009 will not go away quietly. I plan to celebrate New Years eve &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cautiously&lt;/span&gt;. I'm quite glad I don't have to walk anywhere as I suspect I will be kidnapped by mustachioed men as the final huzzah of this shitstorm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh but surely you are exaggerating!"&lt;br /&gt;Am I?!&lt;br /&gt;I've had two concussions this year, the most recent of which (last week actually) is probably the root cause of my vertigo. Tilting my head is like being teleported from my comfortable home onto a boat. But not the good, fun kind of boat, no, much more like the itty bitty dinghy that is about to be flipped over by that approaching 10 foot wave. Fun stuff I tell you. The most reassuring part? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There is nothing you can do about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you've heard about my&lt;a href="http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/11/well-shit.html"&gt; car&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-goes-vrooommmm-holy-shit.html"&gt;accidents&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;And last of all, my ankle tumour! Eagerly awaited post, I'm sure. Basically, it was a cyst that got infected, and had to be &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmWS5jGnKjE"&gt;removed&lt;/a&gt; (Watch, if you dare!). The removal was pretty much the exact same as the video, if you added more "AUGH I CAN STILL FEEL THAT AND IT HURTS" and some blood and pus oozing out of it as I waited for someone to "pack it." Now, "packing" sounds innocent enough, but as it turns out, it really means that someone is shoving gauze into the hole until it's full. Ouch is an understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I am hoping this run of bad luck will be over in 2010, and everything assoctiated with it will be resolved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for my resolutions, I resolve to be more optimistic. The good things that came out of this year would have to be my bitchin' trip to China, my awesome bartending skillorz, and all the fun I had this summer. I think I'll take the cliched road and resolve to be healthier, it couldn't hurt, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now: To go bartend an asian party, and then to go out downtown and (carefully) celebrate the end of the year. Let's hope I don't get hit by lightning!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3812643131451469499?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3812643131451469499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/12/noob-years.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3812643131451469499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3812643131451469499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/12/noob-years.html' title='Noob Years!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-1082134411236147684</id><published>2009-12-18T16:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T16:48:33.802-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Oh Shiying? I remember her...</title><content type='html'>THE HAPS LATELY:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have a hole in my ankle. Details eventually&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We got a Rooma. "Charles"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We're going to Vermont tomorrow&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm not buying people things for Christmas&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;School is out!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Regular" Blogging resumes after the 26th.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-1082134411236147684?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/1082134411236147684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/12/oh-shiying-i-remember-her.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1082134411236147684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1082134411236147684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/12/oh-shiying-i-remember-her.html' title='Oh Shiying? I remember her...'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4401485200759739013</id><published>2009-11-22T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T18:44:45.155-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Lordbug just doesn't have the same ring to it</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.howdididoit.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/ladybugs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 129px;" src="http://www.howdididoit.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/ladybugs.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, recently, there's been a strange influx of ladybugs in my house. It started in September, I had just gotten home, and was minding my own business when I discovered a ladybug in the creases of my pants. I shooed it into another part of the room, and ignored it. A few days later, I was opening the door to my house when I discovered a ladybug on the other side of the door. Other notable times would include the time I found one in my shirt while I was undressing for a shower, and the one I almost stepped on thinking it was a speck of dirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are no overtly large gaps in our house that would let the ladybugs in. And even if there were, why are there only ladybugs? So far, we've let the ladybugs live in peace, seeing as it is likely a mutually beneficial arrangement. Our plants (especially my hibiscus) often have bug problems over the winter, and from what I understand, ladybugs feed off of these bugs. Thus, I spend less time worrying about tiny insects flying up my nostrils, and the ladybugs don't freeze to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a quick googling, it turns out that the species of ladybug I am seeing is the Asian Lady Beetle. It was introduced to kill aphids, which it did quite well, but because it is so competitive, it is also damaging native species of ladybugs. And, it is often known for hibernating in houses since it is native to Asia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invasive species? Helpful farm hands? Harbouring fugitives? Dilemma!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, truth be told, I think I have more things to worry about than non-native species of beetles taking refuge in my kitchen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-4401485200759739013?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4401485200759739013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/11/lordbug-just-doesnt-have-same-ring-to.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4401485200759739013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4401485200759739013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/11/lordbug-just-doesnt-have-same-ring-to.html' title='Lordbug just doesn&apos;t have the same ring to it'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-267719077882101123</id><published>2009-11-03T17:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T18:01:44.281-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Well, Shit.</title><content type='html'>So. Today, I was driving and I got hit by another car. Now I am never going to be able to pay my insurance. FML&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was driving back from the grocery (Metro, if you will) and I was waiting to turn left. The way seemed clear, so I started turning. In my peripheral vision, I could see a car coming at what appeared to be an alarmingly fast speed considering the light had turned yellow some time ago. As my father says "watch out" it is pretty clear that no matter what I do, we're going to get hit by the car. (Though he argues that if I had stopped, we would have been fine. Maybe?) So, One &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;large&lt;/span&gt; impact later, I'm sitting in a cloud of air-bag fumes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon leaving the car, I can hear someone yelling. Turns out it's the woman in the other car, she had seat-belt injuries (as assessed by a doctor passerby). [Seat belt injuries would be caused by inertia, meaning that car was clearly moving very, very fast] and our car has leapt over the median and hit a car that was just waiting for the lights to change. The poor sucker. Anyway, police show up, firemen show up, lady gets carted off in the ambulance. The "main" police officer seems the most unsympathetic, luckily for me, he was writing the tickets. (Sarcasm. fyi)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after waiting and sitting in the tow truck, and waiting some more, the officer comes over to deliver the accident reports and also hands me a ticket for "Careless driving" (6 points, $300+ fine). My father cannot keep his mouth shut, and decides to argue with the (already looks like he has a chip on his shoulder, or possibly a stick up his ass) police officer, who only gets angry and frustrated at my dad. I am told that I can reduce the fine, and get all the points off if I go to court. My father on the other hand, is convinced we should fight all the charges, which would inevitably result in the police officer showing up at the trial, and pwning us for good; leaving me to never be able to drive again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At home, the good ol' Pops is convinced that insurance will care about any charge, despite my insistance that it is most likely just the points they care about. So, now it is a lot of apologizing met with unconvincing "I'm just glad you're okay" and trying to see what the best way of dealing with this charge is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fucking cops. Hmph. Also: Dad, SHHHHH Listen to people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And: How weird is it that I had a dream about getting my G2 last night? I got my G2, and then I was unable to drive to school because of a blizzard. Symbolic?! I think so.&lt;br /&gt;It's also weird that everytime my family goes on a trip, something bad happens. When I was young, it used to be injuries, this year, it has to do with cars. (Detroit: Car was rear ended, PEI: I was hit by a car, Montreal: I crashed the car)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-267719077882101123?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/267719077882101123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/11/well-shit.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/267719077882101123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/267719077882101123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/11/well-shit.html' title='Well, Shit.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-6062948012947269718</id><published>2009-10-31T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T11:01:19.311-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spam'/><title type='text'>I caught me some spammers!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;From beckykoulibaly@cantv.net&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attn Please&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear I know that this massage will come as a suprise to you  but after much consideration i decided to contact you,before we proceed, i don't  know if i have introduced myself to you, I am Miss becky koulibaly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  reason why i send this massage to you is because i am not safe here due to my  situation and my predicament so i decided to seek for your assistance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  have a serious problem which is an injury that lingers in my soul for almost  seven months now and i want somebody who is reliable and honest who will advise  or give me a suggestion on how to overcome the crisis. my mother is not longer  alive here in abidjan as i am writing you and recently My Beloved Dad join his  ancestors though the hand of his wicked brother who call him self my uncle but  has turn to be a lion over night to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How i wish i will see you now in  my country and we talk to each other at present. my father before his death was  a chairman of cocoa dealers here in bouake ivory coast,that was when am still a  student at the federal college of in Abidjan. but i stop school after the death  of my father because my uncle decided to poison me just for nothing sake, As am  writing you now, all my hope and dream of future was shartered and spread to the  sky as i don't know what to do,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father left a big amount of money  with the bank USD 4.5MILLION DOLLARS, and i don't know about this, it was on the  10th of october last year that our farmily lawyer kindly hand over to me the  documents covering the deposit and the WILL my father wrote and the instruction  on how i will utilise the money, Meanwhile i don't know what actually what to do  with this money because of shartered brain and life line, that is why i  contacted you so that you can advise me or give me suggestion how i will handle  the inheritance and also help me to transfer this fund to your account  .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after the conclution of the transfer i will come over to your  country to continue my education, Please it is a long story that if i start to  narrate them now, you will be start shedding tears over there, but i will give  you more details in your next mail but kindly bear in mind that i need you to  help me out of this my bad condition and help transfer this money to his account  and assist me come over there for security of my life and the fund and start a  new life you.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please i need your help, please i will love to hear from you  urgent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks once again and please extend my greeting to your  family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet love from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miss becky koulibaly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-6062948012947269718?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/6062948012947269718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-caught-me-some-spammers.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6062948012947269718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6062948012947269718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-caught-me-some-spammers.html' title='I caught me some spammers!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3275592100698037678</id><published>2009-10-27T17:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T12:44:03.388-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>We be demotivatin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SueQTEFpfeI/AAAAAAAAAE8/bk3HOlc1cuI/s1600-h/DSCF1469.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SueQTEFpfeI/AAAAAAAAAE8/bk3HOlc1cuI/s400/DSCF1469.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397441335616175586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Piece #1 of my 4 paintings. Demotivational!&lt;br /&gt;Um... The apple and such are painted with watercolours. the black is some matting that my dad and I cut in our basement (because we are awesome) and the letters are painted in acrylic.&lt;br /&gt;(Caption cred goes to Krzys :D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Why do the apples have eyes?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How else could you tell they weren't horrible, horrible apples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Your lettering is crooked"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to see you do it better. D&lt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have less friends than these apples"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sucks to be you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"what are those tiny black dots?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The souls of people ground into paint form. (Actually, my friend was splatter painting a table over, and I didn't notice it was getting on mine until I thought to my self "hey, what are those little damp droplets?")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Also: Have a picture of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SueS1H1rWmI/AAAAAAAAAFE/QPUeMXGCpoY/s1600-h/DSCF1471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SueS1H1rWmI/AAAAAAAAAFE/QPUeMXGCpoY/s400/DSCF1471.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397444119761738338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yes. A self portrait in acrylic (Colours are not entirely correct. I'm a little more purple. Turns out, the shade of purple I used is almost impossible to capture)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Why purple?&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;Why not?&lt;br /&gt;(I think that answers just about everything)&lt;br /&gt;edit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Are you wearing buffalo hide?"&lt;/span&gt; - Regina&lt;br /&gt;Wha.. .... no. It's a yellow shirt. D:!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fun fact" the colour of the background happens to be the exact same colour as my backpack. I found out when I dropped paint on my backpack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3275592100698037678?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3275592100698037678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/10/we-be-demotivatin.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3275592100698037678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3275592100698037678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/10/we-be-demotivatin.html' title='We be demotivatin&apos;'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SueQTEFpfeI/AAAAAAAAAE8/bk3HOlc1cuI/s72-c/DSCF1469.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-7906009542788969212</id><published>2009-10-04T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T14:22:19.090-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Nuit Blanche!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://network.nationalpost.com/np/blogs/theampersand/Therrien.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 475px; height: 339px;" src="http://network.nationalpost.com/np/blogs/theampersand/Therrien.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those that don't know, Nuit Blanche was basically an all-night (7pm to sunrise) art show that was held all over downtown Toronto. This meant that I ran around for the 12 hours I could have spent sleeping. Best 12 hours spent not sleeping ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7pm: I arrive at Union station. While on the phone, The installation in Union starts. It sounds like the roaring of a train that is only meters from your face, with no train. Fog comes out the walls, and then it sounds like the train leaves. This was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Imminent Departure&lt;/span&gt; by Heather Nicol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Dislocated from her home in New York after the events of September 11th, Heather Nicol’s work reflects on the vicissitudes of memory, loss and desire. Union Station is the arena for countless stories of last-minute escapes, missed connections, lovers' reunions, hitting the road, and being run out of town. This space will be transformed to evoke the romance and heartbreak of travel stories brought about by unforeseen crises.&lt;/blockquote&gt;This was definitely my favourite exhibit of the night. The voices with snippets of stories and the goodbyes, and then the train roaring with no train there at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.scotiabanknuitblanche.ca//submissions/uploadfiles/GeoF/GeoF_G_Farmer%5B1%5D_thumb.tif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 190px;" src="http://www.scotiabanknuitblanche.ca//submissions/uploadfiles/GeoF/GeoF_G_Farmer%5B1%5D_thumb.tif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other interesting things we saw were &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Blinking Eyes of Everything  &lt;/span&gt;by Geoffry Farmer&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;Definitely one of the more popular projects. It was a stroboscopic machine (that cylinder, that spun around a bright light) which was supposed to induce hallucinations when people sat near it with their eyes closed. The most skeptical man we met in the line ended up seeing the most realistic hallucinations of dogs and animals. As for me, it was mostly lines, and coloured spirals, and other geometric shapes. But definitely a very relaxing experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more hyped exhibitions were less spectacular than expected.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Monopoly with Real Money&lt;/span&gt; by Iain Baxter&amp;amp; (Yes, that &amp;amp; is legally part of his name) was less than exciting. It was basically watching people play Monopoly, but without the fake money. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Beautiful Light:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Four Letter Word&lt;/span&gt; by D. A. Therrian (picture at the top) was interesting for a while, though not exactly exciting. As one man put it while he walked by "This is art?" Though, while we were watching it, I had accidentally stabbed myself in the face with a pen. So now, I have a .7 mm hole in my chin. It looks like a pimple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Respire&lt;/span&gt; by Anna Fritz was also really cool. She captured all the filtered out sounds from Radio and broadcasted it in the room. It was a dark room with radios and LEDs hanging from the ceiling. Most of it was static, but then there would be some breathing, or some scraping noises and sounds like that. It was interesting, and creepy at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span id="lb_WebDescription"&gt;Far beneath the radio transmission hubs atop the CN Tower and other skyscrapers, &lt;em&gt;Respire&lt;/em&gt; employs a matrix of radio receivers to add visceral intimacy to the experience of radio. Sounds of breathing and bodily exclamation, typically absent from radio programming, arise through the invisible and normally inaudible contours of the surrounding radio landscape.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vodka Pool&lt;/span&gt; by &lt;span&gt;Dan Mihaltianu had more potential I thought. It was cordoned off, so that people wouldn't get close to it, but people threw pennies and coins, and on one occasion, a paper plane into it. It looked more like a sad fountain than a giant shallow pool of vodka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, the night was still really fun. We spent a lot of time running around, trying to find where we were going. Grabbing food as cheaply as we could. And we ended the night (day?) by taking a short nap at the Public Library before it was time to go catch our trains.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-7906009542788969212?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/7906009542788969212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/10/nuit-blanche.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/7906009542788969212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/7906009542788969212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/10/nuit-blanche.html' title='Nuit Blanche!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-2501446366181773998</id><published>2009-09-24T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T19:20:44.892-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>I WISH I COULD SPEAK CAPS-LOCK</title><content type='html'>TYPING IN ALL CAPS IS KIND OF FUN SOMETIMES. I MEAN, SURE YOU GET THE URGE TO CAPITALIZE YOUR I'S WHICH IN TURN DECAPITALIZES THEM. (IS DECAPITALIZATION A WORD?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOWEVER, I CAN SEE THE DISADVANTAGES OF ALL CAPITALS, NAMELY THAT IT TAKES UP A LOT OF SPACE ON THE LINES, AND THE LACK OF DISTANCE BETWEEN MY LETTERS MAKES IT A LITTLE HARD TO READ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT AT THE SAME TIME, IT'S LIKE WATCHING A BILLY MAYS COMMERCIAL. OXYCLEAN! MIGHTY PUTTY! I DON'T KNOW WHY THE VOICE THAT READS CAPS READS IT IN A BILLY MAYS-YELL BUT IT'S FUN. IT'S LIKE READING EPIC THINGS IN THE VOICE OF MORGAN FREEMAN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WONDER IF I CAN TYPE SOMETHING DOCILE IN ALL CAPS.&lt;br /&gt;"THE FLUFFY LITTLE BUNNY SKIPPED THROUGH THE PINK COTTON CANDY AND WAS QUICKLY TRAPPED IN THE SUGARY CONFECTION. IT STARTED TO STRUGGLE, WHICH MADE THE CANDY HOLD ON TIGHTER. AND SOON, IT DROWNED, WITH PINK SUGAR IN ITS LUNGS"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THAT WAS TERRIFYING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/B7kBDt-iPW0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/B7kBDt-iPW0&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;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RIP BILLY MAYS. YOU WILL BE IMMORTALIZED BY THE INFOMERCIAL INDUSTRY&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-2501446366181773998?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/2501446366181773998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-wish-i-could-speak-caps-lock.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2501446366181773998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2501446366181773998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-wish-i-could-speak-caps-lock.html' title='I WISH I COULD SPEAK CAPS-LOCK'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-380013568113944469</id><published>2009-09-15T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T18:57:45.140-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Correlation, or Coincidence?</title><content type='html'>So, remember when I found out my mother has been reading my blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time, I suddenly have less to say about nothing. This could just be that I am running out of things to talk about, and therefore am becoming stagnant and irrelevant OR My brain is automatically self censoring with a great big "MOM" stamp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if we observe the archive to the right of this post, you can see that I used to blog an average of 7.166666666667 posts a month before July. After July, I blogged an average of 2.5 posts a month. This happens to coincide with when my mom said "So I was reading your blog..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one hand, this blog is open to the world, which my mother happens to be a part of, and therefore could be classified as "Fair game" for her to read. That is the whole point of blogging after all, to share your thoughts/opinions/life events/etc with whomever wants to read them, even if it happens to be your mother. It would be unfair of me to ask her to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;never ever ever&lt;/span&gt; read my blog after giving her the URL, but...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like an invasion of privacy akin to her reading my journal (Well, I don't have one, but if I did, it would feel like this). She knows it's there, I know it's there, and while there is the option of reading it to see what I have been up to, she won't because it would violate some kind of trust/privacy issue. Sure, my friends read this, but chances are, if I wasn't blogging it, I probably would have told them. I'd like to think my mom is reading it with good intentions, and not to monitor my every move electronically, but you never know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, knowing that my mom has every right to read this, but still feeling violated, I have nothing more to say on this matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also: Yes, this may be a not-so-subtle address to my mother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-380013568113944469?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/380013568113944469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/09/correlation-or-coincidence.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/380013568113944469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/380013568113944469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/09/correlation-or-coincidence.html' title='Correlation, or Coincidence?'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4474722733490796785</id><published>2009-08-20T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T10:50:53.927-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>What goes "Vrooommmm HOLY SHIT"?</title><content type='html'>So I got hit by a car yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was biking home from Nancy's after a day's worth of adventuring. While crossing the intersection of Lakeshore and Silverbirch (after I had decided which way would be easiest to get home by) I was struck by a car turning left. When I left the curb, the college-pro painters truck moved up, but it looked like the kind of thing drivers use to passive-aggressively suggest you should go faster. But, as the car continued heading towards me, and me not being able to move out of the way (I can't pedal &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; fast!) a collision was inevitable. Being hit by a car hurts less  than one would think actually. Though immediately after impact, it does hurt quite  a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The damage isn't severe. Road rash all over, a fat lip, and some oozing cuts on my ankle and face. One of my teeth also took quite an impact, and I'm going to get it looked at today. Plus one broken bike (no pics of that though. The driver took it to get it fixed)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly enough, my cuts look grosser today than they did yesterday. So you get to enjoy the full disgusting extent of them. (The cuts on my ankle are from the gears of my bike. They're quite deep, and I think there's grease in there.) Unfortunately, I had cleaned the cuts right before I took these pictures, so you're missing out on the stuff that's oozing out of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/So2LlWAjgkI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ECupRqj3jVc/s1600-h/DSCF1189.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/So2LlWAjgkI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ECupRqj3jVc/s320/DSCF1189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372103404202197570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/So2LztagsDI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Wfv6D3VNG5o/s1600-h/DSCF1188.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/So2LztagsDI/AAAAAAAAAEk/Wfv6D3VNG5o/s320/DSCF1188.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372103651003248690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/So2MRKEzOgI/AAAAAAAAAEs/yl0UBetJFec/s1600-h/DSCF1191.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/So2MRKEzOgI/AAAAAAAAAEs/yl0UBetJFec/s320/DSCF1191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372104156913023490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that I got a fat lip and road rash on my face?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/So2Mrtb9MEI/AAAAAAAAAE0/lg2WDkkmYBE/s1600-h/DSCF1199.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/So2Mrtb9MEI/AAAAAAAAAE0/lg2WDkkmYBE/s320/DSCF1199.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372104613081985090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-4474722733490796785?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4474722733490796785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-goes-vrooommmm-holy-shit.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4474722733490796785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4474722733490796785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-goes-vrooommmm-holy-shit.html' title='What goes &quot;Vrooommmm HOLY SHIT&quot;?'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/So2LlWAjgkI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ECupRqj3jVc/s72-c/DSCF1189.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-6247025558234387239</id><published>2009-07-28T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T18:27:27.842-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>HEY KIDS</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344" param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/uixDBmH9Gec&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/uixDBmH9Gec&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="no" width="425" height="344" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that I'm the only person that still likes clowns?&lt;br /&gt;Sure, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It&lt;/span&gt; ruined clowns for most people, but if I were to follow that logic, hills should have been ruined by The Hills Have Eyes, and dusty deserted roads with rusty cars following you should have been ruined by Jeepers Creepers. Oh wait. Yes, deserted roads with aggressively driven rusty cars were always "creepy" weren't they?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://torontoist.com/attachments/toronto_jamesh/2007_08_07clown.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 110px; height: 148px;" src="http://torontoist.com/attachments/toronto_jamesh/2007_08_07clown.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I just don't see what is so horrible about clowns. I mean, when you disregard &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It&lt;/span&gt;, and maybe John Wayne Gacy, clowns aren't evil in the least. What's one clowny serial killer amongst all the others? Clowns are just so happy! On the outside of course, on the inside they could secretly hate life, but that isn't exclusive to clowns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough with this pansying about the scariness of clowns, people! Suck it up, and start hiring clowns for your birthdays. After all, I want there to be a market for when I join clown college...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZuLkQMQBZA4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZuLkQMQBZA4&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-6247025558234387239?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/6247025558234387239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/07/hey-kids.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6247025558234387239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6247025558234387239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/07/hey-kids.html' title='HEY KIDS'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3871042678631712558</id><published>2009-07-24T06:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T06:35:40.257-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>I'm not sorry until you're sorry</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;  I find it hard to apologize when I think someone else should first. Which happens around 99% of the time an apology is really needed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Why? Because I'm stubborn about stupid things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Case one: In the streets of Venice, my father is blathering on about something that I have to change that I don't care for. So, instead of talking it out  like a reasonable family (see the problem here? Reasonable) I stop walking and refuse to move until my demands are met. The father, equally stubborn, keeps on walking, making a showdown of stubbornness. minutes tick by as they stroll out of sight, and I begin making plans to walk back alone. Eventually, I win. My demands are met, and neither my father nor I are sorry. Mostly because he wasn't sorry first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Case two: Yesterday, my father demanded I get a job. Of course, I had been thinking the same thing as of late, but if he was going to demand something, and then ramble on about how I do nothing all day, I would do the opposite. This eventually degrades into how he never says anything nice (it's true. 91% average? "Pretty good") or listens to me and etc etc. Concludes in "Maybe I just won't talk to you ever again." Followed by spending the rest of the night pointedly ignoring the questions he's asking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"But Shiying, why are all these stories about your dad?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Because I don't fight with anyone else. Most of the friends I've had can agree that they have never had a significant conflict with me. I don't fight much with my mom; I do fight with my brother, but that's usually of the "Stop spitting on me!" variety. Only my dad is as stubborn as me, and having two people with conflicting ideas but, both convinced they are right, together ends exactly as you think it would, no?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Moral of the story? I'm not sure, but I bet it has something to do with stubbornness and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 10px 0pt 0pt; padding: 0pt; clear: both; font-size: 13px; font-family: Georgia; line-height: 24px;" class="plinky_badge_rid:15580"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.plinky.com/mini/reroute/15580"&gt;    &lt;img src="http://www.plinky.com/proxy/badge?id=15580" style="border: 0pt none ; padding-right: 4px; vertical-align: middle;" alt="" title="" /&gt;  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3871042678631712558?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3871042678631712558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-hard-to-apologize-when-i-think.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3871042678631712558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3871042678631712558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-hard-to-apologize-when-i-think.html' title='I&apos;m not sorry until you&apos;re sorry'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3385272596333455197</id><published>2009-07-19T16:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T18:21:06.482-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The list'/><title type='text'>About that list...</title><content type='html'>A certain item has been nagging me for the last 9 months. Namely, that list I drew up of things I had wanted to do by graduation.&lt;br /&gt;It started out as a list of things I've always wanted to do, but found excuses to not to. When it was first written, I was excited to get started, go forth, seize the day, and all that jazz. Mental images of me carpe dieming at TIFF and bungee jumping were still fresh in my mind as I tried to plan the first items to be completed. But as I planned, I still found myself making excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Oh that will get me arrested."&lt;br /&gt;"That will never work!"&lt;br /&gt;"...Why is this even on the list?!"&lt;br /&gt;"It's too cold/hot/windy/breezy/sunny for that..."&lt;br /&gt;"I bet the squirrels will eat all the balloons, and choke and die.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;At a fantastic 6 months later, I tried to appease the nagging feeling by completing one item. I planted a tree, with SAVE no less. Interestingly, while planting the tree, I did not feel like I was accomplishing a life goal. Or, more accurately, if it was indeed my life goal, it would imply that I make some shitty life goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I thought about the list, the less excited I was to complete it. Bungee jumping seemed less and less exciting and more and more suicidal, as it seemed that I misjudged the heights I would be falling. Of course, some of the items on the list still seemed to be an exciting prospect, but they were easy targets anyway. Drive in movie? 15 minutes away, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I've just lost interest in my endeavour. I've changed, but my list has remained static. Everything changes all the time, and I suppose who I am now is not quite the same as who I was 9 months ago in an English class, bored out of my skull trying to discuss short stories. Part of the reason I wrote the list was so that I could go out and be more exciting. Well, I've done a lot of exciting things since, none of which happen to be on this list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, all of this rambling is just to soften the blow when I say "I am not going to force myself to complete this list." or in other words, I'm not following any lists. I'm going to go seize what I want, with no timeline whatsoever. Of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to avoid doing anything on the list, I'm just not trying to smoosh it all into the next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TL;DR I've changed, I'm not doing my list anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also: New theme! To suit the summer, though I guess I'm a little behind for that.&lt;br /&gt;also: MOTHER, if you are reading my blog. Please stop. It's weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3385272596333455197?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3385272596333455197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/07/about-that-list.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3385272596333455197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3385272596333455197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/07/about-that-list.html' title='About that list...'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-6688243404811307122</id><published>2009-07-13T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T15:58:04.107-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Me Love You Long Time.</title><content type='html'>It's way too long to describe everything I did in the last 12 days. So, I'll give some highlights! Unfortunately, I took less and less pictures as I was having more fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Beijing: The Great Wall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/Slvb62vf-AI/AAAAAAAAADE/zLCWL9SIR3c/s1600-h/DSCF0789.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/Slvb62vf-AI/AAAAAAAAADE/zLCWL9SIR3c/s200/DSCF0789.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358117985860974594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's really nothing quite like walking on the great wall and seeing all the mountains and hills. It was smoggy, but still gorgeous. The walk itself was actually insane. One section was on a 60 degree angle at least with stairs that went up one foot a step. But getting to the top was amazing because you could see everything. Thinking about being the builders who had to build the wall was just crazy, we had enough trouble just getting there, let alone building stuff.&lt;br /&gt;I may have been complaining the whole way up and back, but it was a really great experience. Would do it again. Probably with the same amount of complaints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Xi'an: The market&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SlvhRm89EvI/AAAAAAAAADM/DZPXCAlLi18/s1600-h/DSCF1003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SlvhRm89EvI/AAAAAAAAADM/DZPXCAlLi18/s200/DSCF1003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358123874317570802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, there's lots of history and stuff in Xi'an. But too much history at one time gets boring. The market though, is a real sight to see. People were everywhere! There were lots of souvenir stands, but there were also lots of stands selling the local food. Local food being food I used to eat as a small child that is. There were people selling traditional candy, and "small eats" (bad, bad literal translation). It's a shame we couldn't eat the food (concerns about explosive diarrhea and all that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Shanghai: Partying&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to lie, Shanghai was good and all that, but the thing that sticks out most is going out. Armed with a fist full of bills, flanked by some friends and accompanied by Ben the professional partier, we went out to see the famous bar street. I can't say I remember everything that happened, but the stories I heard the next morning are absolutely hilarious. Apparently, upon returning from the club, I sat in a bath tub for a while, refusing to get out. After being dragged out, I thought it'd be a good idea to change, which explained why I was in a robe, naked. I also tried to escape (?!) a few times so Alex tried to tie me to the bed (?!?!) and then covered me in coathangers so I would wake her up when I moved. Waking up was one of the most confusing experiences I've ever had, and then I saw the adorable note Alex left.&lt;br /&gt;"Gravol (for pukey) - with tablets of Gravol. Advil (for ouchie) - with some advil. Mints (for smelly)- with some mints"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hong Kong- Shopping, the world's longest outdoor escalator, and more partying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The shopping in Hong Kong is a little less cheap, but really cool none the less. We walked down to "The Ladies Market" where I bought an awesome hat, and a really awesome pair of shoes and a dress and some shorts. It was made slightly more fun by the rain from an impending typhoon though. We'd dart from tent to tent as the rain stopped and started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world's longest outdoor escalator went straight through some of Hong Kong's coolest hang outs. There were art galleries filled with old and contemporary art, and little vintage stores, dress shops, bars and clubs and resturaunts and some apartments too. If I ever moved to Hong Kong, I'd try to move there. The elevator itself was pretty cool too, and took you from the bottom of a mountain straight to the peak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Partying down in SoHo was definitely the most fun I've ever had. Hanging around the outside of a 7-11 we met some really funny guys living in Hong Kong who we talked with for a while. Later, we found the rest of our group, who found one of the guys that offered me a flyer walking down to SoHo earlier. Him and his friends helped us get into a club (me for free :D) where it was PACKED. We spent the rest of the night dancing away and had so much fun. Unfortunately, we had to fly the next morning, so we decided to leave at 2 am&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So, I had a lot of fun in China, and I definitely want to go back sometime. And if I ever get an offer to move out into Hong Kong, it will totally go into consideration.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Oh! and I forgot to mention that my lack of blogging was not because I didn't have interenet, but rather, blogger is blocked in China&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-6688243404811307122?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/6688243404811307122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/07/me-love-you-long-time.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6688243404811307122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6688243404811307122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/07/me-love-you-long-time.html' title='Me Love You Long Time.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/Slvb62vf-AI/AAAAAAAAADE/zLCWL9SIR3c/s72-c/DSCF0789.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3098247971682173889</id><published>2009-06-30T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T12:26:55.987-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>My Life is Complete!</title><content type='html'>This weekend (or rather, Sunday and Monday) Regina and I went to Detroit to see the Offspring!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did some other stuff too of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs095.snc1/4963_100799635418_502610418_1978753_6390596_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 114px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs095.snc1/4963_100799635418_502610418_1978753_6390596_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We embarked on an epic drive at around 9 in the morning. After driving through the border, and trying to explain to a customs lady who the Offspring were (?! "Hi I live under a rock") we arrived in downtown Detroit. Interestingly, there seems to be an excess of valets, and a total lack of Asians there. In our  2 days there, we spotted a total of 3 Asian people. And two of them were working together in an Asian shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent our morning/afternoon wandering around downtown Detroit with my dad's other child, the Nikon D300. Apparently, walking around with a large visible camera makes you a prime target for "Hey! Take a picture of me!". As a result, we have many pictures of total strangers/valets walking down streets, sitting in cars and whatever else it is that they were doing at the time. We also have many pictures of us being silly. But, here comes the exciting part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, alternately, why we were in Detroit in the first place. After eating dinner at record speeds, Regina and I get dropped off at "Freedom Hill Amphitheater" (Doesn't it scream "AMERICA"?) where Time Again, the Dropkick Murphys and the Offspring are playing. We line up for merch, and after a while, I acquire another band shirt, one that I could actually wear, because it fits. We find our seats in the ampitheater (Who thought it would be a good idea to hold this show in a fully seated ampitheater?) and we watch Time Again play. They're all wearing matching outfits, and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really &lt;/span&gt;good performers. But, since it's only 6 PM and everyone's seated, it's hard to get really into the music. But, a good show none the less.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs095.snc1/4963_100799585418_502610418_1978744_7269791_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 199px;" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs095.snc1/4963_100799585418_502610418_1978744_7269791_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a break, a bagpiper appears, and everyone knows Dropkick Murphys are on. They play a totally awesome show. Who knew celtic folk music and punk made a good combination? Then again, there's also Norwegian folk metal, so I guess folk music is just a good side genre in general.&lt;br /&gt;As they play, a slow trickle of people beging to pool infront of the stage. Yes, it appears that a pit has appeared between the chairs. It also appears that the security guards don't actually care about people staying in their seats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, Regina and I mosey closer to the stage. And by closer, I mean we walked straight to the stage, about 3 feet away. We wait for the long set up of the equiptment, because, clearly, headliners need all their own stuff pulled to the stage again. (I'm not complaining, as long as it's a good show). As the lights go down, and the Offspring appear, everyone goes crazy, and I go into a state of shock for a good 5 minutes. We take some pictures with my Crackberry, but then just decide to enjoy the show. After 2 hours of awesomeness, and being lurked by some creepy dudes (Seriously, even if we did look older for our age, we were so clearly underage.) t'was all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure we smelled awful, but &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; totally worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We shopped the day after, but a description of that would be a bore. Suffice to say, I have a new pair of awesome teal/blue converse!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, I must go back to pack for my trip to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;China&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3098247971682173889?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3098247971682173889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-life-is-complete.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3098247971682173889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3098247971682173889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-life-is-complete.html' title='My Life is Complete!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-1374323478937925095</id><published>2009-06-23T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T13:49:00.950-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Oooa</title><content type='html'>"Oooa" Said the squash&lt;br /&gt;"Hi" Said Jimmy&lt;br /&gt;"Oooa" Said the squash, quite persistently.&lt;br /&gt;"What a foul mouthed squash!" Said Jimmy's mother, frowning with distaste as she quickly led Jimmy away.&lt;br /&gt;"Oooa" Said the squash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, the squash avoided being consumed for another day. But this was not the type of life the squash had hoped for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In its youth, the squash was the brightest of his class, a rising star. It was quite proficient in the linguistic arts, and was quite creative with its insults. After high school it was accepted into a prestigious university, and decided to major in Offensive Vernacular. This, was considered by many a waste of such brilliance. A squash, the first of its kind to be accepted into this university, studying such a useless major? A shame! But none the less, the squash persisted, and graduated at the top of the class. It moved in with some of its new friends to a smallish apartment in the area populated by graduates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a new start for the squash, and its mind was filled with bright new ideas about decorating the new apartment, purchasing furniture, and things of that sort. But, first, it needed employment. With a degree from such a well know school, who would reject it? Alas, the job offers did not come flying in, so the squash decided to go out and meet its fate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it soon discovered that finding a job with a degree in the offensive arts was much more difficult than it previously thought. Turns out, no one wanted to hire a squash to swear at things, in fact, no one wanted to hire a squash at all. Eventually, it began falling behind on its rent payments, and got kicked out by its friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're tired of you, you deadbeat!" they said, as they hurled his stuff out the window. And so, the squash sadly rolled away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It tried begging for change, but no one had sympathy for a squash. In a last ditch attempt, it tried to gain employment at the grocery store. But. alas, it was mistaken for produce, and promptly placed amongst the other squash. It was surrounded by its lesser cousins, and whittled its days away plotting an escape. Days and weeks passed as it planned, and it felt itself progressively loosing freshness. This is a crucial part of its plan, if it can avoid being eaten long enough, the employees will have no choice but to set it free again. Soon, it will be free, but for now, the squash waits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My what a delicious looking squash"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-1374323478937925095?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/1374323478937925095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/oooah.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1374323478937925095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1374323478937925095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/oooah.html' title='Oooa'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4534777290251472240</id><published>2009-06-21T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T09:49:34.929-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>69!</title><content type='html'>Yes, this is the 69th post.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just being immature now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;69!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Makes me want to tell bad jokes and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Real posts coming soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-4534777290251472240?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4534777290251472240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/69.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4534777290251472240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4534777290251472240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/69.html' title='69!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-6408838834557305754</id><published>2009-06-14T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T15:14:28.777-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Things that Scare Me</title><content type='html'>Or: The best way to watch Shiying Cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;!) Heights&lt;br /&gt;Well, there's not too much to say about this one, since it's pretty common. But I do have a story to prove it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Summer of 2004(?), I was at YMCA camp. On this particular day, we were doing the high ropes. In my naive 11 year old mind, the ropes didn't look &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; bad (always famous last words...). So I harness up, clip myself to the safety rope stuff, and wait eagerly for my turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I start climbing, I realize exactly how tall the pole is, but not overtly worried. Half way up the pole, I'm feeling a little anxious about reaching up for the next grab, for fear of falling. So, naturally, to assure myself, I look down. And then it all goes downhill. Immediately, I cling to the pole and refuse to move. Unfortunately, the only way for me to get off was to move to the middle of the ropes. All the way up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, since I'm not on the pole anymore, I think you can figure out how this ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;This is going to be a problem when I complete &lt;a href="http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/22-ish-things-to-do-before-graduation.html"&gt;number 19&lt;/a&gt; on my list...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;?) Fish&lt;br /&gt;Or more specifically, being in the same water as fish. I can't point out what exactly alarms me about fish... Something about their unblinking eyes, slimy skin, the constant threat of them biting off my toes, and such just terrifies me. Snorkeling in Cuba: A bad idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$) Things Swimming at me&lt;br /&gt;Only made worse when it is a fish that is swimming at me. I get really nervous when I can see something swimming directly towards me. I almost punched some kid in the head once because he was swimming towards me... in a public pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp;) Umbrellas&lt;br /&gt;I always get anxious around umbrellas.. They could poke you in the eye, or things could start falling out of the sky and you wouldn't see until it went through the umbrella and struck you in the head, or you could get your thumb caught in it while trying to close it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;^) The Dark&lt;br /&gt;Shut up. I don't like walking alone in the dark. But when I'm talking about the dark, I mean the real dark, not streets lit up by street lamps at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;|) Dinosaurs&lt;br /&gt;This all started with Jurassic Park, made worse by the robotic dinosaur park, and worse by that dream I had of dinosaurs eating my family, and worse by the most recent dream: Dinosaurs controlled by&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Radioshack&lt;/span&gt;. Sure, they might be extinct, but they live on in my dreams... and that's all that matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~) Feet.&lt;br /&gt;Feet are awful, awful things. Foot massages are not sexy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask me why I didn't number these with numbers. I don't know either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-6408838834557305754?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/6408838834557305754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/things-that-scare-me.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6408838834557305754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6408838834557305754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/things-that-scare-me.html' title='Things that Scare Me'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-6097626672358188100</id><published>2009-06-11T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T15:28:07.963-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The list'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>I can't believe I forgot!</title><content type='html'>I had completed another item on my list way before. (March)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masquerade! Granted, I wasn't holding it. But I'm a terrible hostess, so it was probably for the best. Anyway. I wore the mask I got from Venice which looks a little like this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SjGHjepl7GI/AAAAAAAAAC8/6jYtaBgNlwc/s1600-h/werewr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 130px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SjGHjepl7GI/AAAAAAAAAC8/6jYtaBgNlwc/s320/werewr.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346203276258176098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, it looks exactly like that, because that is the mask I wore. The more observant ones will notice that it is also not a picture of me. That's just because I couldn't find one of me and the mask together. That picture is from a masquerade-like themed get together on the cruise I went on in the summer, though, no one really wore masks, and it was more of a "I'll wear your mask and you can wear mine!" thing. Which, explains the picture.. somewhat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really have much else to say... So. I guess I'll go into a totally different tangent now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I Probably put too much of myself onto teh interwebz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog, forums, facebook, random sites, etc. I probably divulge more information than I really should. Everything is on the internet in one way or another. It probably won't take too long to find if one was a dedicated googler. But it doesn't really bother me as much as it should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way I see it, you can live in the dark ages, and fear the internet, or you can embrace the internet and everything it can do for you. People already date/hook up/buy groceries/ chat/gather/plot/etc on the internet, why should it be unreasonable for me to expect it to take out my laundry one day? Being raised in a family where both my parents depend on evolving computer technology for their jobs, I've always had up to date computers, operating systems, and always fairly up to date on computer trends. So, it's really no surprise that I spend a lot of quality time with my laptop, Fred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The internet is everything for me! It plans, and organizes, I can share my thoughts (here), talk to my friends even if they're far away and awkward on the phone, and I can encounter totally random people all over the world (Omegle/rest of the internet) So, what I mean is: I love the internet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should blog about Fred...&lt;br /&gt;In due time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-6097626672358188100?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/6097626672358188100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-cant-believe-i-forgot.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6097626672358188100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6097626672358188100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-cant-believe-i-forgot.html' title='I can&apos;t believe I forgot!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SjGHjepl7GI/AAAAAAAAAC8/6jYtaBgNlwc/s72-c/werewr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-110273049761588757</id><published>2009-06-10T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T15:07:17.714-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Turn on Google safesearch already</title><content type='html'>Or: It's impossible to google "spanking" and expect academic results&lt;br /&gt;Or: The debate over whether or not to spank is over. Deal with it already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it's already been scientifically proven that "spanking is bad for you". Ergo, there is no need for a debate, especially among a bunch of  High school kids that don't like/want kids. And really, it's unfair to the poor suckers that has to try and argue for spanking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yes, Oh yes. Hit your children!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, debates put me in a bad situation. As a person who has strong beliefs against holding strong beliefs, I find it hard to even want to argue about it at all. But, my opinion on this matter has been made for me (even though I don't think it's fair for anyone to try and tell someone they're raising their kids wrong.) Still, that doesn't stop me from wanting to point out that there is no set definition for "spanking" and therefore, many articles about research may all be referring to different things as "spanking" making it difficult to gain a general consensus other than  "Don't spank. We think it's bad"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to whip out my arbitrary high school attitude right now and say that it is ridiculous to expect a stellar piece of workmanship from your students when there are 4.5 school days left until exams. Most kids are desperately cramming, calculating what kind of mark they need on the exam to bring up their average, or trying to alleviate stress by not attending school at all. Preparing for an all out debate with no prior warning is not in any of those activities, and therefore will not be scheduled anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my real point: No one cares who spanks or doesn't spank their kids. Sure, we can all stand here and say "No suh, never gonna spank 'em. Nope." But in all reality, spanking at least once is more likely than never spanking your kids at all. Sure, I know that some people have never spanked their children, and I will applaud them for self control. The truth is, no one is ever going to admit that they spank/have considered spanking/will spank their children. Just like how no one ever says "Oh yes, I would have gone along with that" when questioned about how they would feel if they were in Nazi Germany.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, I may have just lost due to Godwin's law, but it is the most appropriate analogy I could think of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough procrastination, I have a debate to prepare for!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-110273049761588757?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/110273049761588757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/turn-on-google-safesearch-already.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/110273049761588757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/110273049761588757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/turn-on-google-safesearch-already.html' title='Turn on Google safesearch already'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-5969670497037719289</id><published>2009-06-02T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T15:25:45.629-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Vrrrroooommm Vrrrrrrr</title><content type='html'>What does Shiying want most right now?&lt;br /&gt;This.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.totalmotorcycle.com/photos/2006models/2006-Ducati-Monster-620a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 375px; height: 262px;" src="http://www.totalmotorcycle.com/photos/2006models/2006-Ducati-Monster-620a.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? Yes. I would like a crotch rocket. Or more specifically, a Ducati Monster 690/6whatevers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Shiying! Why a motorcycle?&lt;br /&gt;Because they are clearly the sexiest/most amazing/amusing things on the planet. Also, what is there not to love about a leather suit? Sure, they're marginally more dangerous than cars, but I'm also probably not going to try going 5000000 km/h on the highway. (Deserted road, maybe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why not one of the ______ motorcycles?&lt;br /&gt;I am short. This bike is short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How are you paying for this?&lt;br /&gt;Like I know... I'll get a real job or something that regular people do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are you asking and answering these as questions instead of just writing about it?&lt;br /&gt;Because I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, really. I would love a motorcycle right now. Though really, any short crotch rocket will do, this is just the most awesome one. Now to see what takes precedence over my future.. Magnetic climbing wall, motorcycle, car, awesome loft, pony, pony, pony....&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to need lots and lots of monies..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-5969670497037719289?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/5969670497037719289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/vrrrroooommm-vrrrrrrr.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5969670497037719289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5969670497037719289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/06/vrrrroooommm-vrrrrrrr.html' title='Vrrrroooommm Vrrrrrrr'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-8421980964709957310</id><published>2009-05-31T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T18:44:52.693-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>I have been to hell, and returned with (boring) stories!</title><content type='html'>Hell is freezing cold, smoky, and smells like soy sauce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, it was just an Asian trip up to a cabin in Georgian bay. And, I will concede, it was not that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day One&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Directly after class, I hop into a car with my mother, and snack on cookies while we start the 5 hour drive. Stop off to pick up one pre-teen demon. Continue.&lt;br /&gt;Switch cars around 40 mins in to ride with friend and his dad, clearly a deep believer in offensive driving. 3 hours later (you can shave a lot of time off when you drive at 140 km/h on an 80 road) I remember how much fun this friend was. Suddenly, this trip doesn't look &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; bad. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon arrival, it is proven that Georgian Bay will always be colder than what you prepared for. But, it's a nice night, so we go for a stroll (we being me plus friend plus annoying pre-teen devil that we ditched) chilled on a dock, had some deep conversations etc etc. Nice, nice. Bed time, I am walked back because of my horrible fear of the dark. (shut up shut up)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's cold, but I figure the blankets should be enough, right? WRONG&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day Two&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between 3am-6am I am woken once by my dad complaining about how he is going to barf (what do you expect after trying to consume an entire bottle of Asian liquor between 3 people?) and by crazy coldness. Apparently in the building of the cabin, fire safety and insulation were both regarded as "irrelevant". My mother tries to wake me up when the sun actually comes up. She then decides that it's appropriate to send the friend in. I am up, but very, very disgruntled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hiking" is always a recipe for disaster with me. Insects, tiredness and cold equals "shiying has had a bad time" face. Needless to say, I sulked the entire time, and finally got my mother to agree to never take me on one of these pilgrimages again. I cheered up a bit when I get handed a Nikon D90 to take pictures with. (I do not have any of the pictures I took) and I take some sick pictures for the rest of the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon return to the cabin, it is still very, very cold. I'm also too tired to think of anything interesting to do or talk about so most of the conversation goes like this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;-poke-&lt;br /&gt;Nuugggggghhhhh -poke-&lt;br /&gt;Waaaaaah -poke-&lt;/blockquote&gt;Well, I think you get the point. Let's just say there isn't much to do when you get 5 channels and no internet. Though describe video on the accessible channel gets exponetially funnier as time goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father gets the bright idea to try and start a campfire. Of course, the only wood around is wood that just got soaked by a torrential downpour that started after we returned. Nevertheless, it does not discourage him. He rallies the minions (small children) to gather tinder and cardboard to try and burn and "dry out the wood". Unsurprisingly this does not work. However, I did witness many small Asians trying to "roast" their marshmallows in the smoke. Apparently smoked marshmallow falls under a "variation" and not "you're doing it wrong"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, did I mention that I got bitten by some bug... that left a bleeding wound on my face?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crawl into bed, it's fairly warm, but I load up on blankets just in case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Day Three aka. Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up, frozen again. My brother is yelling.. and someone is cooking ramen in true Asian fashion. I go and take a shower to warm up, and notice that my breath steams. I get dressed... after heating up my clothes with the hair dryer. Eat a tomato for breakfast, because I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mad packing and tidying enuses, and an hour later, we are all packed up and ready to go. I wanted to leave as early as possible to get to my biology assignment that I couldn't do thanks to lack of internet. So the mother and I embark on a 5 hour epic drive home. We pass lots of cows, horses, old houses, "Redickville" and other places with sketchy names and very few people. Upon return to 'sauga we stop off for groceries, and I grab some bubble tea. (nom nom nom)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew bubble tea makes people want to pee all the time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Althought it wasn't a totally sucky trip, it is not an experience I want to repeat. Though, usually I don't have much choice, and that is why I am forever going to places I hate going to, doing things I hate doing. I do not enjoy having "nature's splendours" pushed into my face, and forcibly aborbed into my soul, thankyouverymuch. But I did discover the wonders of describe video. You can watch TV while sleeping! Craaazzzyyyy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye Georgian Bay, and I hope I never see you again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s This post sounds whiny, but I really do hate these trips. I'd rather sit at home and get scurvy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-8421980964709957310?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/8421980964709957310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-have-been-to-hell-and-returned-with.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8421980964709957310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8421980964709957310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-have-been-to-hell-and-returned-with.html' title='I have been to hell, and returned with (boring) stories!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-5627616022397152234</id><published>2009-05-24T13:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T16:59:01.535-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>I can stop any time I want.</title><content type='html'>When you're falling asleep and all you can think about is tetris, you know you have a problem. Personally, I love tetris. If it wasn't for the imminent threat of carpal tunnel, I would play tetris all day. But there's other things I'd also do all day long. And so, here is a list of them, to appease the blogging gods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) &lt;a href="http://www.freetetris.org/"&gt;Tetris &lt;/a&gt;(duh). I don't know why I like tetris so much, but I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Freecell. Or more specifically, winning at freecell. Currently I'm at 81 consecutive wins. (I need to get out more) Though, that number is partially achieved by cheating the system. For this, I can blame my &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.handocoffee.com/images/longevity-milk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 117px; height: 136px;" src="http://www.handocoffee.com/images/longevity-milk.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;parents. As a small child, they used to try and amuse me with freecell and minesweeper on our ghetto microsoft 19-something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Sweetened Condensed Milk. I love the stuff, unfortunately it comes with enough sugar to melt your teeth on the spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) &lt;a href="http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-is-it-that-i-have-more-random-posts.html"&gt;Web Comics&lt;/a&gt;. First, it was just Cyanide and Happiness, common enough to not seem dorky I suppose. Then XKCD came along, and along with that came Questionable content, and Dinosaur comics, and... well. Let's just say, I spend a good amount of time on Monday, Wednesday and Friday checking the comics. (QC updates everyday. It's superb)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Caffarel Chocolate. Not just any chocolate it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;italian.&lt;/span&gt; Okay, but really. This stuff is the best chocolate I've ever consumed (and I have eaten a lot of chocolate). The family first got some when we were returning from Italy. After some hardcore googling, my parents located a store in Windsor that sold it, so every so often, We aquire some more from my dad's friend in Windsor. (Currently muching through the millionth bag. Delicious.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) The internet. 'nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) &lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kbe1m30RS8c&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kbe1m30RS8c&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Okay, I posted that because I remembered it as "Hopelessly addicted to you" But Pushing Daisies is awesome.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-5627616022397152234?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/5627616022397152234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-can-stop-any-time-i-want.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5627616022397152234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5627616022397152234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-can-stop-any-time-i-want.html' title='I can stop any time I want.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4847150998565046625</id><published>2009-05-16T16:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T17:11:49.070-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Boring Conversations.</title><content type='html'>(Or, I think creepy thoughts without realizing it is creepy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A large percentage of conversations I end up holding with people I do not know well goes like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Me: Hello&lt;br /&gt;Them: Hello, what's up?&lt;br /&gt;Me: (thinks for a long time, comes up blank) nothing much, you?&lt;br /&gt;Them: oh about the same.&lt;br /&gt;-silence-&lt;/blockquote&gt;This works with a multitude of questions: "How are you" "How have you been" "How is life" etc etc.&lt;br /&gt;The problem is, you can't reply with anything that is actually occurring in your life without sounding pompous/pretentious/damned depressing. Try replying with "I realized I live a boring life" it's simply too personal as a response to an automatic question and you usually get a "... that.. sucks?"&lt;br /&gt;Thanks tips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Replies I've tried out were "I've been better, been worse too" (apparently too depressing.) and "I don't know that's a really hard question" (Took too much explaining) "Eh" ("Oh what's wrong?" Nothing.) or "I've been spending a lot of my time thinking about beards" ("....what?")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Involuntary responses are also irritating, because it shows people really aren't listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Have fun at your birthday!"&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks, you too"&lt;/blockquote&gt;What? Yes I suppose I might have fun at my birthday 5 months later. Thanks for actually paying attention to my sincere desire for you to have fun, or anything else people have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Have fun at your birthday!"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh I wasn't paying attention to what you were saying because I was too preoccupied with thinking about how awesome my birthday will be!"&lt;/blockquote&gt;This wouldn't be such a problem if "Hello, I've been watching you for a while, and I've noticed you like to wear shorts" was less of a creepy statement, and more of an acceptable greeting and a foray into an interesting discussion on the phenomena of wearing shorts in cold weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas, one day, people will be interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-4847150998565046625?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4847150998565046625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/05/boring-conversations.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4847150998565046625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4847150998565046625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/05/boring-conversations.html' title='Boring Conversations.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-5327490107994670066</id><published>2009-05-06T12:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T09:59:21.230-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>I Declare a Dance War</title><content type='html'>So, last night was the AP tour 2009!&lt;br /&gt;If you remember, I posted waaay back in February about how excited I was for it, well it turns out that all that excitement was totally justified! (You'll have to excuse excessive use of the exclamation mark here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The saga begins right after school. I am getting ready to go out, and such, I leave the house at 4:20, perfect time if I want to catch the 4:48 train, right? Well, theoretically, yes, but we will never know. I get a text from Jess informing that the train is in fact, at 4:38. This puts me into a bit of a pinch see, there is no way that I can get there in 18 minutes at a nice walking pace and still expect to have enough time to buy tickets and all that. So, I pick up a bit of a jog. Turns out, I'm not in the best of shape either. I decide to run every other block for the next 1.4 km or so. (Wimpy, I know. Hush you) While neurotically checking my time, I realize that I probably won't make the train, but that's not going to stop me, no suh. Turns out, I did miss the train, but only by a minute or so. Luckily, the freak train came directly after that, so we got on that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the platform, we observe a shocking amount of scene kids. It is evident that these are the kids that will totally be at the show with us. Mmmm scene. At the EX, the train conductor announces "This is the Fall Out Boy concert, have fun ladies. (pause) Shake your booties."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[I am too lazy to detail what happened between here and arrival at the venue]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we get there right when Rocket to the Moon is playing, and they sound pretty awesome I must say, but we get in on their second to last song. After they're done, Jess and I hit the merch, and get FF5 CDs and shirts (unfortunately "All Ugly People Put Your Hands Down" shirt was sold out) When we get back, Hit the lights is setting up. We squish out way to the middle, and as we start getting into the music, I look up, and Chapstique was playing guitar for them?! So they were good.. Anyways, most of the time was spent nodding along/lightly moshing/making jokes about the swine flu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After more squishing, we were wedged right into the middle, where the people turn into one giant blog, and it feels like you're getting violated in all the wrong places from all directions by the same people that you're probably violating. But that's all part of the experience, right? FF5 comes on, and everyone goes crazy! There's a dance/mosh pit, which was pretty fun, and all the jumping and stuff. It was ridiculously hot in there, but too awesome to leave. Xanadu in the corner doing his thing, Chapstique looking awesome and Soulglow+Fatty+crouton being well, awesome. Needless to say, Family Force 5 puts on the most awesome shows ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3OH!3 comes on afterwards, and everyone's throwing the crazy 3OH!3 signs in the air and such. Here, I'll just say that I don't know that many of their songs, but they're pretty good. Anyway, they put on an awesome show too! I think my favourite comment of their was "I in like with you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Maine comes on and truthfully, a lot of the random people that came for 3OH!3 had left, so there was definitely less people out there, but still a sizable crowd. This time, the crowd's looser, and I'm pretty sure everyone is fairly tired by now. They sounded pretty good, but we had to leave after 3 songs to catch the train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back on the train, the weird old lady kept giving me disapproving looks, I'm not sure why?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-5327490107994670066?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/5327490107994670066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-declare-dance-war.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5327490107994670066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5327490107994670066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-declare-dance-war.html' title='I Declare a Dance War'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-1706897286738076523</id><published>2009-05-02T12:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-02T12:31:40.547-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Childhood enemies...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0pt; padding: 0pt 0pt 10px;"&gt;  I was sort of an unpopular kid...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I actually don't remember the names of anyone from my childhood, mostly because I don't like them. But, I remember in particular a pair of identical twins. One of them thought my drawing skills were awesome, and the other one thought I was totally lame.  So, it was always too confusing to figure out which one I could say "Hi" to without being shunned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, I had lots of other kids that picked on me, but that one was probably the most mind blowing. I did not have many friends... being the weird foreign kid and all. (not that I had friends when I wasn't the weird foreign kid..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rd grade: I had a huge falling out with my best friend at the time. I don't even remember what it was over, but it seemed like such a big deal back them. We both changed schools due to our families moving away at around the same time afterward, and we never kept in touch. She found me on Facebook recently, we turned out remarkably similar, except she likes Twilight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, there are my crazy paternal Grandparents. They would quietly whisper to me about the dangers of leaving a door unlocked, and the murderers lurking around every corner causing most of my current paranoia. This was only made worse by my mother's addiction to "America's Most Wanted" at the time. As I get older, I hear more and more tales about the things my grandmother used to do because she thought it was good for me. ie, turning away all my friends that ever called me, or came to my door. Then again, she still does most of those things, without any explanation, ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose you could say that my grandparents were a sort or enemy. The sneaky kind, that never lets you know that they are sabotaging your every move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes me wonder about my dad's childhood a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s The other day, I found a bag of buns they had made a month a go stashed in a cupboard. I do not know what they did that for, but it got very, very moldy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 10px 0pt 0pt; padding: 0pt; clear: both; font-size: 13px; font-family: Georgia; line-height: 24px;" class="plinky_badge_rid:11928"&gt;  &lt;a href="http://www.plinky.com/mini/reroute/11928"&gt;    &lt;img src="http://www.plinky.com/proxy/badge?id=11928" style="border: 0pt none ; padding-right: 4px; vertical-align: middle;" alt="" title="" /&gt;  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-1706897286738076523?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/1706897286738076523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-childhood-arch-enemy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1706897286738076523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1706897286738076523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-childhood-arch-enemy.html' title='Childhood enemies...'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-6440247857312407243</id><published>2009-04-30T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T13:24:12.830-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The list'/><title type='text'>One down, 21 to go.</title><content type='html'>So today, I went &lt;a href="http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/22-ish-things-to-do-before-graduation.html"&gt;tree planting&lt;/a&gt;! Wooooooo sounds like a party right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went with SAVE (students against the violation of the environment) and planted trees at what we thought would be the UTM campus. We were actually planting trees on a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; steep hill right beside the road. It wasn't too bad though, the soil was very clay-y, and there were tonnes of rocks, but that's all to be expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was unexpected was the "nature hike" and the "Seed ball activity" we were encouraged/forced to do afterwards. For someone that was under the impression that we would only plant trees, it was in interesting experience. Now, it doesn't sound that bad, but I hate nature walks. They remind me of all the times my family and other likeminded asians gather together to go and violate a provincial/random park on weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The car is loaded up with chairs, and parasols or whatever, and coolers chocked full of food that no one will finish along with ridiculous snacks in case anyone is still hungry. After we arrive, the walking commences, all in a hige pack, with small children darting around people that may or may not be part of the asian congregation. Of course, all this commotion brings out the mosquitoes. And if there's anything I hate more than nature walks, it's small insects. Knowing that they are there makes me paranoid, and then I feel like there's insects all over me, and then I start running and flapping my arms like a psycho. At this point, all other asians dec&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bugcrap.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/fobvisor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 121px;" src="http://bugcrap.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/fobvisor.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ide to intervene, and offer me random herbal concoctions made to keep the bugs at bay, all the while insisting that DEET is going to kill me. Personally, I think I'll take my chances with DEET and keep my sanity. Just when you think you are going to go insane/collapse, a group photo is called for. All the adults gather with their visor hats, raise the sun-shield or whatever that thing is, and smiles at the camera while wearing their backpacks/fanny packs. Upon return to where the cars are parked, picnic tables are scouted, and the crap in the car is dragged to where ever the table has been dragged to to stay out of the sun. The feasting usually commences from there, while pictures of the food is taken, and pictures of you eating is taken. When this is all over, everything is repacked into the cars, and we all head to our respective homes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is exactly what the nature hike felt like, I was always anticipating someone in a visor-shield-thing to pop up, or for someone to insist that I stay out of the sun for fear of getting a -GASP- Tan. Those asian treks have slowly made me loathe nature, and forests, and especially trails. Which is exactly what the "nature hike" was. Of course, I wouldn't even call the place we went a park, it was like a small strip of woods that just happened to avoid being bulldozed with a trail winding through them. There was litter everywhere, and the "beautiful canopy" was non-existant because it is spring. Upon arrival at a clearing, we were told that we would be making "seed balls", an innocent sounding activity, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WRONG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Seed balls" were balls made of clay, compost (manure! poo!) and the seeds of native plants. We were told to grab the gluey mixture and throw it somewhere to "encourage" "natural" growth. As much as I support the regional flora, seeding is not natural growth. Nor is the planting of natural shrubs and trees. And I do not think that southern ontario was ever a "prarie" like area. The soil is practically artist quality clay! And no matter what you call it, compost is probably mostly made of decomposed poo, and I am not touching that with my hands that I just washed 5 times to get the dirt off of. It was at this point that I got out my "Shiying is having a very bad trip" face. And I kept it on all the way home, to prepare for any surprises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TL;DR Tree planting is okay, nature walks and seed balls are not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-6440247857312407243?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/6440247857312407243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-down-21-to-go.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6440247857312407243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6440247857312407243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/one-down-21-to-go.html' title='One down, 21 to go.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-8016395393880756241</id><published>2009-04-28T17:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T18:05:35.118-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Oh no.</title><content type='html'>I fear I am getting boring.&lt;br /&gt;I am boring myself these days...&lt;br /&gt;I forgot what I usually do.&lt;br /&gt;What did I do on the internet for hours on end?&lt;br /&gt;What did I do with my friends?&lt;br /&gt;What on earth happened to my social life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damnit, not again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to dust off my phone and maybe call some people, sooner or later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But. But. Everything is boring. Maybe it's time to get started on &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the list&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to start planning, and enlisting help. Maybe?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-8016395393880756241?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/8016395393880756241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-no.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8016395393880756241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8016395393880756241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-no.html' title='Oh no.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-2717437243422599625</id><published>2009-04-22T19:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T17:31:41.986-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>My Dream house...</title><content type='html'>As I spend more and more time trying to blog about my dream house, I realize: Oh hell no. I don't want to diagram the crap in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, You will be entertained with a combination of filler, and rant (By "popular" demand)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The first order of business: My book has arrived! Of course, I'd say anyone that isn't Regina reading this blog will have no idea what I am talking about. So... The book in question is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Overqualified &lt;/span&gt;By Joey Comeau, who also writes &lt;a href="http://www.asofterworld.com/index.php"&gt;A Softer World&lt;/a&gt;, one of my favourite web comics. [Is it really a comic? maybe?]&lt;br /&gt;  So far, it's been a pretty interesting read. Very Joey styled, but a lot shorter than I thought it would be. (94 pages) The paper is awesome! I've been hearing that it was printed on really cool paper, but this is serious stuff, yo. It's like thin manila coloured card-stock? Light ridges printed on it, and smells amazing. Very booky.&lt;br /&gt;  What is the deal with this book, and why am I blogging about it?&lt;br /&gt;  Well, It just came out this year on April 7th, so it's super new. It's a story told completely in a series of cover letters to various employers, mostly about his brother's car crash. It's weird, and quirky, and morbid, and funny, and a lot of other things I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The Dating epidemic, what is up with this shit? Some of it, you totally saw coming, other stuff just leaps out of a dark corner and demands your wallet. I mean, I'm happy for some people, I'm confused at others, and then there's the few that are just so... WRONG!&lt;br /&gt;In the last month, 4 people I never thought would date just got a significant other. I've spotted a few more surprising relationships around school (thought, maybe not so much if I actually talked to them?). Must be the human mating season.. But the main point here is: What the hell am I doing?&lt;br /&gt;  Let me state here and now, that I don't think long, meaningful relationships in high school are the way to go. I am not seeking for someone I can suck face with between classes. If there is anything I don't like in life, it's commitment. I don't eat apples because they're not something you can take a bite of and then come back to it. I like people in the same way: Friends are still your friends even if you don't see/talk/etc to them for a while. But if you're dating someone, and you don't go out of your way to greet them, it's some sort of mortal sin. And to that, I say "Screw that". But that said, all these hormones in the air make me feel left out of something I might be enjoying.&lt;br /&gt;  Of course, I realize that all this could be solved with a simple "friends with benefits" deal. But, really, where am I going to get one of those? (I see what you are thinking, and for fuck's sake, no.) Not to mention how awkward it will be when you mention it's not a boyfriend... but not just a friend either. Girls have some kind of obsession with having &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;commitment&lt;/span&gt;. And a friends with benefits arrangement is lacking in it, ergo, girls hate being friends with benefits. But really, does anyone ever want to marry the person they dated in high school? Having a huge long relationship just makes the (mainly) inevitable break up that much worse.&lt;br /&gt;  Call me negative, but that's just how I see it.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh but Shiying, what if someone asks you out? Are you just going to give them this whole speil?"&lt;br /&gt; Probably not. I mean, I might as well give it a chance. What do I have to lose, really?  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BUT &lt;/span&gt;I'm never going to be one of those irritating couples that cling to each other like they had a congenital defect of the conjoined variety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what am I rambling about? What is my point? That's a pretty good question actually. I guess you could tl;dr this as "Shiying is being a bitter old hag." Or... actually read it and draw your own conclusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Click on the picture for a better view)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.asofterworld.com/clean/pillow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 362px; height: 130px;" src="http://www.asofterworld.com/clean/pillow.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-2717437243422599625?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/2717437243422599625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-dream-house.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2717437243422599625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2717437243422599625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-dream-house.html' title='My Dream house...'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-2461010519120014389</id><published>2009-04-19T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T15:33:41.337-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Thank you for ruining sexy cars.</title><content type='html'>The other day, I saw the most stereotypical scene I have ever seen in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The middle aged man driving a sexy car with his trophy wife/secret girlfriend/hired prostitute&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bkeithb.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/maserati1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 145px;" src="http://bkeithb.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/maserati1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namely, he was driving a Maserati down the street with a blonde lady possibly in her 30's (or just denial..) that was heavily made up and adorned in jewelery in a manner that only a person with too much time and shallowness could accomplish. Namely, she looked like she escaped from the huge beach houses of SoCal to come live in this suburban hell hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes it worse is that the license plate read "SWEEET"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet the midlife crisis is all it's cracked up to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT that is not my point here. It just happens that every time you think of an awesome looking sporty convertible, you invariably end up picturing a middle aged man in the drivers seat. Probably balding a bit, a little lecherous looking, some wrinkles from squinting into the sun because he's too cool for sunglasses, and maybe a leather jacket to add to his persona. He probably drives like an asshole, drinks starbucks, and works a boring but well paid job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why so detailed? Because people fall into stereotypes all the time. Everyone complains about being stereotyped, but stereotypes exist for a reason. The alcoholic that stumbles around yelling things at trees while peeing into a garbage can? Probably true. The yuppies that no longer know how to make their own food since they've chosen a career (don't get me started on "I don't have time to cook") who line up at Starbucks every morning to pay $5 for some crappy oatmeal prepared by a 15 year old. Also true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Racial stereotypes can be insulting, but are often also true. Asians are pretty much cheap and concerned with what people think of them. Why do you think there's such a ridiculous market for fake designer goods in China? Because people pay for it. If you live in a trailer park, you're probably a red-neck. This can go on.. and on.. and on.. But I think you get the point. maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the middle aged man is a special specimen. It seems that when ever males want to feel young again, they go out and buy something more suitable (in image) to a man in his 20's. It might be a sexy car, or a motorcycle or something more scandalous involving younger women. My neighbour got a motorcycle. The thing is, when a guy gets the sexy car, it is no longer just about the car. You have to cultivate an image. The sun-squint, the arm out the window while the roof is down so that the wind can caress what is left of your hair. Maybe with some loud music that will irritate all the other drivers, and always, the unnecessary speed/revving/being an asshole in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exibit A: the "SWEEET" License plate. In case no one noticed the 100 thousand dropped on the car, the license plate will tell you how you are supposed to feel about it. It's like the icing on the cake, or alternately, the salt in the wound. Almost a passive-aggressive jab at the rest of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exibit B: The stereotypical blonde in the passenger seat. Her hair was up in a casual, but definitely not messy, up do with neat, strategically placed curls on either side of her face. Of course, they weren't any curls, they were probably straightened and then curled to get maximun curl perfection. Just for a little drive down suburbia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to all the males out there: For the love of FSM! Stop falling into the same old stereotypes! Have an interesting mid-life crisis for once, and go naked sky diving or something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-2461010519120014389?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/2461010519120014389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/thank-you-for-ruining-sexy-cars.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2461010519120014389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2461010519120014389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/thank-you-for-ruining-sexy-cars.html' title='Thank you for ruining sexy cars.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4643608344350822389</id><published>2009-04-11T15:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T15:31:20.217-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>I'm going to get abandonment issues from Omegle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger: hello&lt;br /&gt;You: people keep leaving me!&lt;br /&gt;You: &lt;br /&gt;You: Hi&lt;br /&gt;Your conversational partner has disconnected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; hi :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="youmsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;You:&lt;/span&gt; :E hi!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; where u from ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="youmsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;You:&lt;/span&gt; :F ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="youmsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;You:&lt;/span&gt; :G!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="youmsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;You:&lt;/span&gt; :H&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="statuslog"&gt;Your conversational partner has disconnected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; male? female?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="youmsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;You:&lt;/span&gt; I'm blogging about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; you are super cool&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="statuslog"&gt;Your conversational partner has disconnected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like an abusive relationship that you keep crawling back too...&lt;br /&gt;In any case: I leave you with a ridiculous/lulz video&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bJLhQoxenB8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bJLhQoxenB8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/3898853713353590966-4643608344350822389?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4643608344350822389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-going-to-get-abandonment-issues-from.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4643608344350822389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4643608344350822389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-going-to-get-abandonment-issues-from.html' title='I&apos;m going to get abandonment issues from Omegle'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-8616011693412025758</id><published>2009-04-07T15:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T17:48:01.639-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>OMeGle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://omegle.com/"&gt;Omegle&lt;/a&gt; is the best thing ever!&lt;br /&gt;It's like a chat room, except you don't choose who you get hooked with, and there are no names. Simply "you" and "Stranger"&lt;br /&gt;Sure, it sounds like a perfect creeper site, but you also get to hold the most random conversations ever. Today, I found one person who did not like cheese, and another one that showed me that dairy isn't all that bad. I talked with one guy about beards, and to shampoo or not to shampoo. And so much more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, sure, there are total losers that are trying to find naked pictures of you/your sister/your female neighbour/any female in reach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT.&lt;br /&gt;You get total awesome stuff like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="youmsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;You:&lt;/span&gt; isn't this exciting?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; hell yeah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; its ok&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; better than anything i was previously doing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="youmsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;You:&lt;/span&gt; which was?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; drinking beer and teaching myself multivariable calculus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; now im drinking beer and talking to strangers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehe. Now I'll get back to talking with strangers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger: Andrew?&lt;br /&gt;You: No&lt;br /&gt;Your conversational partner has disconnected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: Tacos!&lt;br /&gt;You: Are you andrew?&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: No&lt;br /&gt;You: oh&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: I'm a Taco!&lt;br /&gt;You: okay. what about tacos?&lt;br /&gt;You: I see.&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: what are yOu?&lt;br /&gt;You: I am lettuce&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: Then i want you inside of me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; Hey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="youmsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;You:&lt;/span&gt; Are you a taco too :(?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; No?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="youmsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;You:&lt;/span&gt; or alternately, andrew?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; wtf?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="youmsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;You:&lt;/span&gt; k good&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; I'm Norwegian.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="logitem"&gt;&lt;div class="strangermsg"&gt;&lt;span class="msgsource"&gt;Stranger:&lt;/span&gt; I eat whale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;:) Omegle is awesome&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;EDIT. I FOUND HIM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;You: are you andrew?&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: yeh&lt;br /&gt;You: woah!&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: why who's tis?&lt;br /&gt;You: I don't know.. someone was looking for andrew, so I thought I'd join in&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: lol kl&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: u found me&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/3898853713353590966-8616011693412025758?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/8616011693412025758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/omegle.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8616011693412025758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8616011693412025758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/omegle.html' title='OMeGle'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-5769236268763241247</id><published>2009-04-01T12:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T12:25:58.271-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spam'/><title type='text'>I am blessed by the SPAM Gods</title><content type='html'>Dear Internet User.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are happy to inform you that your email address have emerged winner&lt;br /&gt;of (DOLLARS $500,000) in GLOBAL AWARD PROMOTION.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The online cyber draws was conducted from an exclusive list of&lt;br /&gt;500,000.00 email addresses of individuals,corporate bodies,Students and&lt;br /&gt;staff email addresses picked by an advanced automated random computer&lt;br /&gt;selection from the web.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your email address is attached to REF NO: GW/5838610584/09 &amp;amp; BATCH NO:&lt;br /&gt;GW/48670515/9 with Serial No: 57306-09: Ticket&lt;br /&gt;number:715-693542-09:lucky numbers:90-44-88-22-09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bear in mind that prizes will strictly be remitted to winners that&lt;br /&gt;officially file in for their claim within the given time frame below,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: All Won Prize must Be claimed/ Cleared not later than one&lt;br /&gt;month.After this date, all other winnings will considered as UNCLAIMED&lt;br /&gt;and returned to Global award department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To begin your claim, you are to forward this message to our accredited&lt;br /&gt;claim agent including your&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Name&lt;br /&gt;2. Address&lt;br /&gt;3. Nationality&lt;br /&gt;4. Age&lt;br /&gt;5. Occupation&lt;br /&gt;6. Phone/Fax&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make sure you send him email to Three of his email addresses and call&lt;br /&gt;him once you send him email:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contact Person: Rev Dr Arthur Williams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tel: +234-803-923-6013 IF YOU ARE CALLING FROM USA THIS IS HOW YOU WILL&lt;br /&gt;DAIL 011-234-803-923-6013 BUT IF YOU ARE CALLING FROM ANY OTHER COUNTRY&lt;br /&gt;THIS IS HOW YOU DIAL +234-803-923-6013&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS IS YOUR CLAIM AGENT E-MAIL ADDRESSES BELOW,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E MAIL: arthurwilliams323@gmail.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E MAIL: arthurwilliams333@gmail.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E MAIL: arthurwilliams343@yahoo.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your prize award has been insured with your email address and will be&lt;br /&gt;transferred to you upon meeting the requirement of the gaming board&lt;br /&gt;authority which includes your statutory obligations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOTE: You may receive this E-mail more than once as the Global Award&lt;br /&gt;Promotion send it to its winners in most cases until every winner has&lt;br /&gt;claimed his or her prize to ensure that all the winners&lt;br /&gt;receive it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Regards,&lt;br /&gt;MR.Martin Thompson (Award co-ordinator).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU ARE BLESSED&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-5769236268763241247?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/5769236268763241247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-am-blessed-by-spam-gods.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5769236268763241247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5769236268763241247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-am-blessed-by-spam-gods.html' title='I am blessed by the SPAM Gods'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3621479411593370155</id><published>2009-03-28T17:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T17:53:07.938-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Screw You Earth Hour!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dear Shiying: Your lights are on, it is Earth Hour. WTFBBQ IS WRONG WITH YOU?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I don't believe in Earth Hour! Why?&lt;br /&gt;Well, It might have been a good idea. Sure, it supports the earth and what not, One hour's worth of electricity for an hour adds up, but it's the people that get me. Somehow, simply turning off lights gives people some kind of moral high ground. Last year, people actually walked around and insulted people who didn't turn off their lights. This year, I got a phone call from someone saying "your lights are on." BIG. WOOP. Turning off your lights does not make you a martyr. It means you turned off the lights. And part of Earth Hour seems counter-intuitive, when people turn off the lights, they light all the damn scented candles they've accumulated over the decades. All these candles are probably belching CO2 and bee poo into the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, don't get all righteous with me. I don't care if you're driving a 10^9 mpg hybrid, eating only food grown within 2.4 km of your house, and absorbing CO2 with your pet tree. And neither does the rest of the world. Go ahead and do those things, just don't expect the world to bow at your feet for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3621479411593370155?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3621479411593370155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/screw-you-earth-hour.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3621479411593370155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3621479411593370155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/screw-you-earth-hour.html' title='Screw You Earth Hour!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4462799405860278565</id><published>2009-03-27T13:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T13:53:44.077-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>A few things on my mind.</title><content type='html'>1) The search for "true love" or your "one and only" is nearly futile, or a fraud. If there was truly a "one and only" for every single person on this planet, the chances of finding them is 1: 3.6x10^9. Those are insane odds to go against. You could win the lottery almost 300 times with those odds. Alternately, this is no "one and only" and there are globs of people just like you, or the person you think you love. Again, out of  3.6x10^9 people, there is no way they are all unique. And that is why the odds of finding someone for you is slightly better than the previous proposed situation. However, this means that they are not as special as you believe. This also explains why widow(er)s go on to marry again or why people don't travel to every single continent in the search for true love. Perhaps I am being pessimistic, but I have math on my side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Capitalism is the loss of faith in people. This is more of a reverse logic thinking on my part.. Communists, as horrible and oppressive as it sounds is really just a bunch of people who believe that everyone is equally good natured and hard working with consideration for their fellow citizens. Of course, it only takes a few assholes to destroy that mindset and turn the leaders of a communist revolution into a bunch of disillusioned people in high positions of power. And we all know what happens then... But Capitalism, the economy of the free, is a free for all. Where you squeeze as much money out of your family and friends &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;because you can.&lt;/span&gt; Sure, you have ideas that will potentially save the children, solve global warming, and feed all the hungry people but can you make money off of it? Capitalism just assumes the poor folk were too lazy to work anyways and lazy people are not people in a capitalist society..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Modern day Medusa. What the hell, Shiying, you may ask, what are you blathering about now? Well. I have this.. thing floating in my head and it says that we all have a personal Medusa that turns us into stony, cold, people.  Now, what I mean is: If we have enough exposure to something, no matter how sad or horrifying, we will get desensitized. And if it happens enough, then the immediate response to anything is always "photoshop." Think about those terrible World Vision commercials with all the poor little kids. Now, think about your reaction when you see that commercial. In all probability, you are not bursting into tears at the unfairness, but rather feeling a slight twinge of guilt for not being able to help. Some where out there, there is probably a short, stocky man arguing that the parents should not have had kids if they couldn't feed them/you can't help everyone/etc. Stony cold? I think so. But then again, who can look the ugly world in the eye and not turn to stone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-4462799405860278565?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4462799405860278565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/few-things-on-my-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4462799405860278565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4462799405860278565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/few-things-on-my-mind.html' title='A few things on my mind.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-6013379478850233782</id><published>2009-03-24T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T17:12:27.131-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>This house makes us all a little crazy.</title><content type='html'>A thought occurred to me earlier, but I forgot it.&lt;br /&gt;So instead, I will entertain you with filler material designed to pacify you until a real post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, is it just me, or do you go pee a lot more often when you're sick?&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe it's because I'm actually drinking water now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;water intoxication: A very real risk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I know people think it's hilarious when I say things like that, but when someone's passed out on the floor in a coma and/or dead from heart failure, no one's laughing anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Remember kids, drink your water in moderation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-6013379478850233782?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/6013379478850233782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-house-makes-us-all-little-crazy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6013379478850233782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6013379478850233782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-house-makes-us-all-little-crazy.html' title='This house makes us all a little crazy.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-6760201024729755356</id><published>2009-03-14T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T12:26:24.581-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spam'/><title type='text'>Thank you, Mighty spam bots!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;mmmmmmm Spam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Dearest One,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is my pleasure to contact you for a business  venture which I intend to establish in your country. Though I have not met with  you before but I believe, one has to risk confiding in someone to succeed  sometimes in life. I am  &lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;BRITNEY&lt;/span&gt; MAMADU , the  only  duaghter of late HADAMS MAMADU, from Sierra Leone in west africa. &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is this amount of SIX Million US Dollars ($6.000.000.00) which my  late father deposited with a BANK  in Abidjan Capital city of Cote d'Ivoire  which he wanted to used for his political ambition in our Country before he was  Assassinated. Now I  have decided to invest this money in your country or  anywhere safe enough outside my country for security and political  reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I  want you to help us claim and receive this money which will  be transferred to your safe bank account avoid any traces of the funds and to  enable you plan for the investment in your Country. I will like to invest part  of the money into these three investments in your Country but, if there is any  other business that is better than my suggestion, I will be very glad to follow  your advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1). Real estate&lt;br /&gt;2). The transport industry&lt;br /&gt;3). Five  star hotel&lt;br /&gt;If you can be of an assistance to  me i  will be pleased to offer  to you 20% Of the total fund while the balance will be invested by you. I await  your soonest response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respectfully yours,&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;BRITNEY&lt;/span&gt; MAMADU&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spam me, please.  I love spam. Spam Spam Spam...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zjqZ0aIAgFM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zjqZ0aIAgFM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s The description... "&lt;span&gt;Whether you love it, hate it, or keep it as a pet, there's nobody out there who doesn't feel a little intrigued by a can of spam. Is it meat? Is it... umm... something other than meat? Could you fry it? Grill it? Use it for modeling clay? Texture your ceiling with it? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-6760201024729755356?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/6760201024729755356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/thank-you-mighty-spam-bots.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6760201024729755356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6760201024729755356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/thank-you-mighty-spam-bots.html' title='Thank you, Mighty spam bots!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-5079534110441610484</id><published>2009-03-08T14:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T15:47:33.397-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Scar... leg?</title><content type='html'>Well. here comes the "long awaited" part two of. Well. The last post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun Fact: There's another scar on my chin. It's less prominent and smaller.&lt;br /&gt;It was from 3rd or 4th grade when I slipped on some slippery tiles and bonked my chin on the floor, Here, I am using a loose form of "bonked" By "bonked" I really mean wacked my jaw bone on to the slippery floor with enough force to break skin. Luckily it didn't require stitches, just butterfly tape, so I am left with a normal looking scar. Unfortunately, it occurred right before my trip to Orlando. So, there was no swimming done at all, and all my pictures have me in some pose that hides the tape. Whats more sad was that I lost the teddybear I bought on the trip at disney world. damn you Mickey Mouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have another normal looking scar on my right wrist. You see, I was very depressed... I'm totally kidding, really, I am. I've had that scar as long as I can remember. It's about a centimetre long, and relatively faint. It's fairly mysterious, and every time I ask my parents, I just get a shrug and an unconcerned "Iunno". It's almost possible to think that I was a conjoined twin, joined at the wrist.. by a tiny piece of skin... But the key word here is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;almost,  &lt;/span&gt;because my parents would tell me something like that, right? right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I don't know if anyone noticed, but I have a crazy scar on the back of my right leg. And by crazy, I mean it's like the one on my face, but weirder. It's quite short, just around 2 cm or so, but it's all bumpy and funny coloured. It was from the surgery I got in 3rd grade. Nothing exciting though, just cyst removal. This scar supports my hypothesis that cuts requiring stitches give me horrible scars. The fun part of the surgery was my mom feeding me KFC, and me puking 30 minutes later. (I'm totally kidding, the freezies you get upon regaining conciousness were the fun part)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly enough, a few years later, I get another cyst. On the same leg. On my ankle. But, I figure it's not worth the trouble of removal, so it's sitting there, looking lumpy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that pretty much sums up the scars that matter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-5079534110441610484?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/5079534110441610484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/scar-leg.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5079534110441610484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5079534110441610484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/scar-leg.html' title='Scar... leg?'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-414517520174878713</id><published>2009-03-04T14:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T14:55:56.678-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Plinkspiration: Scars</title><content type='html'>Well, I should probably preface this with: I scar easily. Every cut becomes a scar, so there are lots. I'll just talk about the ones that needed stitches, and the ones with funny stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, in case you didn't notice, there is a one inch scar around my chin that's all raised and bumpy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun fact about me: All the scars that needed stitches are like that. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with my skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, it happened when I was around 4 or so. I was living with my grandparents/aunt off in Shanghai, and we were visiting my great aunt and her family. So, My cousins and I were off in some room playing with a globe sitting on someone's dresser. I decided to jump on the bed to get a better look, and of course, when you put a 4 year old on a bed, she will jump. As I was jumping on the bed, I fell into the wall. Unbeknownst to me, someone had put a sheet of broken glass in the space between the bed and the wall (why? don't ask me). So, it was quite the shock when I got up and had a profusely bleeding chin. So, off I go to the hospital, which is mostly closed and sketchy  as hell. Apparently, someone in my family has "connections" (again, Skeeetchy) and got me some "really good" surgeon. He sews up my chin, while I was mostly coherent, in regular thread, not that crazy dissolving stuff. This was and old school hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, when I returned to my aunt's house, I discovered that I had quite an amusing goatee from the thread. So, when it was supposed to be healing under the bandage, I was peeling the bandage and giggling. I was mighty disappointed when I had to get it removed 2 weeks later. Fast forward a few months, I return to my parents. They've heard about the incident, but didn't expect the scar to be so.. IN YOUR FACE. And oh, it was. It was magenta for around 4 years, and then faded to a pink which stuck around for 3 or so years, and then faded to a normal tone, though still all bumpy and shit. Now a days, it looks like it's trying to leave my face quietly, which would be nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to screwing up my chin, it left some nerve damage, which currently means I can't pull down the left side of my mouth. Before, it meany my entire face was crooked. Yes, all of it. Of course, I never noticed it much, but every single specialist I ever saw liked to point it out. I have no idea if all those visits paid off though. Years of vitamin E, weird gluey patches, creams, a suggested surgery (it seemed counter effective. If I scar weird, surgery would take me back to my crazy magenta scar) and taping aloe vera to my chin (yes, I did. But only when I was sleeping) it faded on what I presume was its own accord.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since this has turned into a massive TL;DR, I'm going to shut up now, and do the rest some other time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-414517520174878713?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/414517520174878713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/plinkspiration-scars.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/414517520174878713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/414517520174878713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/03/plinkspiration-scars.html' title='Plinkspiration: Scars'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-5336283234473450167</id><published>2009-02-05T12:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:00:56.969-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>And you thought you were creepy.</title><content type='html'>So. There's this guy.&lt;br /&gt;Not too sure who he is. And before you ask, I am not stalking out of love, but sheer curiosity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things we know so far:&lt;br /&gt;He supports PETA (stickers on messenger bag)&lt;br /&gt;Varies between good indie style clothes and the most hideous articles of clothing known to man&lt;br /&gt;Male (shush you)&lt;br /&gt;Should be shaving on a fairly regular basis. Had a 5 o'clock shadow, but has now grown a goatee (?!)&lt;br /&gt;Is in GSA&lt;br /&gt;Has a locker in the lecture hall&lt;br /&gt;Hung out side of my art class in the first 2 weeks of semester one&lt;br /&gt;Previously attended LP, then Mentor, and is now back&lt;br /&gt;In grade 12 (we think)&lt;br /&gt;Hangs with smokers + others&lt;br /&gt;Goes to the ORC&lt;br /&gt;Rollerblades&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I still don't know who he is, why he was outside of my art class for 2 weeks, or why he dresses horrendously.&lt;br /&gt;I am determined to find this out before the yearbook comes out.&lt;br /&gt;Off to GSA! &gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit: FOUND&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-5336283234473450167?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/5336283234473450167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-you-thought-you-were-creepy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5336283234473450167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5336283234473450167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-you-thought-you-were-creepy.html' title='And you thought you were creepy.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4974771105725748546</id><published>2009-02-01T15:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:01:17.303-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>The Tarts are ALIVE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SYYxggOFT8I/AAAAAAAAABo/jVAlZOGiYlY/s1600-h/DSC_2148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SYYxggOFT8I/AAAAAAAAABo/jVAlZOGiYlY/s400/DSC_2148.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297976446122545090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it is not a cheesy horror movie, it's just my art final.&lt;br /&gt;And because no one understands me and/or loves me (angst angst), no one gets the painting.&lt;br /&gt;So...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FAQ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;Because I can. Alternately, why not? I like the Sound of Music, I want to Save the Poptarts!(tm), so why not show Poptarts being free?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they're poptarts?&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can they be something else?&lt;br /&gt;Sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's it painted with?&lt;br /&gt;Acrylics. And the tears of baby monks in training shipped from Mongolia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did you get on it?&lt;br /&gt;95%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's with her face/the mountain/grass/etc?&lt;br /&gt;Shutupshutupshutup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are you sharing it with the internet?&lt;br /&gt;See answer to question one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what does this do for Save the Poptarts!(tm)?&lt;br /&gt;Well, it shows that people and poptarts can get along in a friendly manner that does not involve mastication or toasting to a desired crisp or temperature.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-4974771105725748546?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4974771105725748546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/02/tarts-are-alive.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4974771105725748546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4974771105725748546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/02/tarts-are-alive.html' title='The Tarts are ALIVE'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SYYxggOFT8I/AAAAAAAAABo/jVAlZOGiYlY/s72-c/DSC_2148.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-5470774450326870975</id><published>2009-01-27T16:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T12:26:39.803-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spam'/><title type='text'>I love SPAM!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="400" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/M_eYSuPKP3Y&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/M_eYSuPKP3Y&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not just any &lt;a href="http://www.spam.com/"&gt;spam&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;All Spam! Garlic, Low sodium, Spam lite, Spam spread, Spam with bacon, smoked spam, the honey grail, and most of all, EMAIL SPAM!&lt;br /&gt;Yes that's right, I love getting emails telling me that there is a Nigerian man ditched on the international space station with no way back and his family is trying to raise funds to send a ship to fetch him. I love the email that ells me I can enlarge/improve/etc my junk (well, seeing as I have none, I figure I could always do with more (there's never enough junk in the trunk)).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the problem is, I don't get fun spam anymore. I get tasteless bland spam telling me I can get 10% off at Hakim Optical if I fill out the survey. And as much as I love a good commercial survey, it just doesn't leave me feeling thoroughly invaded and cheated like a personal scammer. Why, my dear scammers? Why have you abandoned me? I miss my spam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss checking my junk mail and seeing a letter from someone I've never heard of proclaiming my dead relative in Saudi Arabia has died and left me his fortune which he got from being a pacifier tycoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COME BACK TO ME SPAMMERS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CShiying%21%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;link rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CShiying%21%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"&gt;&lt;link rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CShiying%21%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt; 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	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoPapDefault 	{mso-style-type:export-only; 	margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	line-height:115%;} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-5470774450326870975?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/5470774450326870975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-love-spam.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5470774450326870975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5470774450326870975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-love-spam.html' title='I love SPAM!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-5707423565621560830</id><published>2009-01-26T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T12:35:44.799-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Things that Should never see the light of day: A list</title><content type='html'>1) Echoes from the Past: World History to the 16th Century textbook published by McGraw-Hill.&lt;br /&gt;This was a waste of paper. One glance at the schools' curriculum would have informed the publishers that children would NOT be studying Meso-America, Asia, or the Middle East. I'm not saying that they're not worth studying, but now we are all stuck with 300+ pages to lug around and never read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Tear-away pants. 'nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Dried Fruit. Who ever thought it would be a good idea to dry out a perfectly good piece of fruit in to a jerky-like appearance and a thoroughly disgusting texture has ruined my food for the last time. Sure, if it's dried, it keeps longer. But I'm sure people eat the fruit for its taste, otherwise, we'd all eat apples. What good is a plum after it's shriveled up into a sickening PRUNE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Speaking of Prunes: What the hell is Prune Juice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) justfuckinggoogleit.com. Eat my shit Regina, I will not Google Prune Juice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) &lt;a href="http://www.holytaco.com/if-i-die-bacon-related-death-id-it-be-because"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. Could anything else scream "I would like to die because of Massive Heart Failure please!"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Who the hell thought "Massive" would be a good medical description.&lt;br /&gt;"So.. He died of head trauma?"&lt;br /&gt;"No, MASSIVE head trauma. Jesus, I don't know how you could get any more head trauma, it was so traumatized its trauma had trauma."&lt;br /&gt;"...oh. So, it was painless?"&lt;br /&gt;"Does MASSIVE sound like painless to you?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-5707423565621560830?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/5707423565621560830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/things-that-should-never-see-light-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5707423565621560830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5707423565621560830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/things-that-should-never-see-light-of.html' title='Things that Should never see the light of day: A list'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-203721205258763917</id><published>2009-01-20T17:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T13:35:59.174-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Ooooooohhhmmmmmmmm</title><content type='html'>I wonder what my tarot cards are trying to tell me...&lt;br /&gt;And by the by, I'm not using the upside down meanings, because it seems silly to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cards&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) The Chariot&lt;br /&gt;2) Queen of cups (upside down)&lt;br /&gt;3) The fool (upside down)&lt;br /&gt;4) The Moon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Meanings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Triumph! Success! Etc!&lt;br /&gt;2) Balance, Achievements using creativity, but lacking common sense&lt;br /&gt;3) Beginnings of a journey, optimism, also lacking common sense&lt;br /&gt;4) Illusions, dreams, psychic-ness, the unconcious mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's telling me that one of my ludicrous ideas may actually succeed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-203721205258763917?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/203721205258763917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/ooooooohhhmmmmmmmm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/203721205258763917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/203721205258763917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/ooooooohhhmmmmmmmm.html' title='Ooooooohhhmmmmmmmm'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-8171204774062842136</id><published>2009-01-18T14:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T15:04:48.130-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>The Anti-Meme</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SXO0-SxQM2I/AAAAAAAAABg/NLZOxGmTN14/s1600-h/Untitled_image%283%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 413px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SXO0-SxQM2I/AAAAAAAAABg/NLZOxGmTN14/s400/Untitled_image%283%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292772969373774690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet Zomby. He used to have a name, but now a days, he just says "BRAAAAIIINNNSSS"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-8171204774062842136?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/8171204774062842136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/anti-meme.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8171204774062842136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8171204774062842136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/anti-meme.html' title='The Anti-Meme'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SXO0-SxQM2I/AAAAAAAAABg/NLZOxGmTN14/s72-c/Untitled_image%283%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-5019936867763971287</id><published>2009-01-15T18:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T19:05:05.166-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>No!</title><content type='html'>I will not google it.&lt;br /&gt;Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news:&lt;br /&gt;I am so. so. so. so. so. so. bored/boring.&lt;br /&gt;Clothing rut. Fun, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHIT. My blog is boring. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this one time, there was this toast on the ground. And all it wanted was for someone to pick up, hug it and tell it that it was awesome, and butter it. Well, maybe not butter it, because that usually leads to eating. But a hug and some warming up would be nice. Of course, no one picks up toast sitting on the ground, so it was trampled into mush by the morning commute. And then swept off the street with the street cleaners that come out at night and spray the ground with a fine morning dew. It's all a conspiracy you see: The "rain" isn't actually rain. It's just cheaper for the government to create fake rain to wash away all the crap on the streets than it is for them to hire a bunch of street cleaners to wash the sidewalks. Of course, some are hired, but they only work at 4AM. Because no one is ever up at 4. It's like the nerdy kid in the corner of the entire day. There's always someone up before and after, but at 4, everyone is asleep. Except for the street cleaners of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-5019936867763971287?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/5019936867763971287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/no.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5019936867763971287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5019936867763971287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/no.html' title='No!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3283497290614451108</id><published>2009-01-10T19:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T19:37:06.005-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Songs you never want to admit you like</title><content type='html'>Mine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garth Brooks - Low Places&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/y-bLu-zJfYo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/y-bLu-zJfYo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Li'l Wayne- Get Low&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mv-E8gb3d84&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mv-E8gb3d84&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris brown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mjnVUECcqVc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mjnVUECcqVc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B. Spears- Toxic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/a-XCL_4tu-Q&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/a-XCL_4tu-Q&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bumblebee song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/y41DykcpgRg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/y41DykcpgRg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes it is true. I like the bumblebee.&lt;br /&gt;What are your musical guilty pleasures?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3283497290614451108?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3283497290614451108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/songs-you-never-want-to-admit-you-like.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3283497290614451108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3283497290614451108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/songs-you-never-want-to-admit-you-like.html' title='Songs you never want to admit you like'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3128238146713371286</id><published>2009-01-05T19:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T19:33:06.608-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Lack of Blogspiration leads to...</title><content type='html'>So...&lt;br /&gt;If you had say.. relatively warm water on the bottom of the thermometer, and you stuck the top part into the snow (or stuck snow on the top part I guess) What would happen to the stuff inside?&lt;br /&gt;I mean...&lt;br /&gt;Would it form some kind of wormhole, where temperatures collide, cancel each other out, and create a void in the universe due to lack of temperature?&lt;br /&gt;I mean.. Everything has a temperature. So if they canceled each other out, it would create an impossible loophole in all that is what it is, and a time traveling wormhole would open, allowing you to return to the 90's, steal all of Apple's ideas, and become rich. (Conversely, you could also go back and warn people about impending disasters that you've already know about, but no one's gonna believe you anyway, right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or some much, much more boring answer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3128238146713371286?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3128238146713371286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/lack-of-blogspiration-leads-to.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3128238146713371286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3128238146713371286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/lack-of-blogspiration-leads-to.html' title='Lack of Blogspiration leads to...'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-2658975438173577546</id><published>2009-01-02T14:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T14:44:38.974-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>And so it begins.</title><content type='html'>My slow wade back into the "real world" after my blissful (though slightly boring) holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I have the iconic art class.&lt;br /&gt;You know, the sole reason I don't do anything spontaneous on Friday nights?&lt;br /&gt;But I'll be there with Kirby at least. Possibly Jane. I don't suppose anyone else will join.&lt;br /&gt;And then... I'll be dumped with the regular 6 hours of schooling again.&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, at least I don't have a job. *leans back and stretches to put some emphasis*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also: &lt;a href="http://www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com/cgi-bin/seigmiaow.pl"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kitlers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-2658975438173577546?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/2658975438173577546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-so-it-begins.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2658975438173577546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2658975438173577546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And so it begins.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3839977267096547207</id><published>2009-01-01T13:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:00:28.287-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Oh Hey... You look Different</title><content type='html'>That's right!&lt;br /&gt;I got a header!&lt;br /&gt;Okay. I know that would sound dirty if this wasn't a blog and I wasn't talking about that thing that's chilling at the top of my blog with my blog title on it.&lt;br /&gt;Credits go to Regina who has far more patience than I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's that? Oh yes!&lt;br /&gt;I got new colours too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news:&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A P  T O U R 2 0 0 9 !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Yes!&lt;br /&gt;Guess the line up?&lt;br /&gt;All you really need to know is:&lt;br /&gt;Family Force 5&lt;br /&gt;3OH!3&lt;br /&gt;And the other 3 bands... (They're good, just I haven't heard of them before this)&lt;br /&gt;Have I mentioned how much I love the AP tour?&lt;br /&gt;Last year, they brought The Matches, and this year FF5!&lt;br /&gt;-squeal-&lt;br /&gt;The dates aren't out yet. But there's just gotta be a Toronto date!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3839977267096547207?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3839977267096547207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/oh-hey-you-look-different.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3839977267096547207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3839977267096547207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2009/01/oh-hey-you-look-different.html' title='Oh Hey... You look Different'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-1757782800500310384</id><published>2008-12-31T10:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T10:23:01.861-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Eat my shit, Robertson Davies</title><content type='html'>Hello, and welcome to the world of Fifth Business. The book which is inexplicably chosen as "essential" reading for the Grade 11s of Lorne Park. All I want to know is WHY?&lt;br /&gt;Why, Roberston Davies, why must you write a book that is not a book?&lt;br /&gt;There is no conflict, there is no drama, there is no excitement. Hell, the "murder" we were promised came at the last 3 pages of the book, and the "mystery" was non existent! Why write a book with a fictional man who lives a mundane life, not including his bizarre saint addiction, and world travels. Hell, he's not even traveling for the fun of traveling, he is traveling to fuel his saint addiction. Plus, he is not even a likable man. He has no real compassion or any other feeling for others. He's only nice to the retarded Ms. Dempster because he thinks he has to be. His best friend is a tool, and he doesn't pick up any interesting friends along the way either. He makes no meaningful friends along the way, and methinks if he died, no one would miss him &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; much.&lt;br /&gt;Secondly: WHY English Department? Why this atrocity of a book?&lt;br /&gt;Sure, it was good reading. Once. The writing gives people headaches, it's largely redundant, and past section 3, the book stops making any sense. So why make us read it and analyze the poor thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm saying here is let us read the old school books that everyone else reads. At least then, we can use Sparknotes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-1757782800500310384?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/1757782800500310384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/eat-my-shit-robertson-davies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1757782800500310384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1757782800500310384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/eat-my-shit-robertson-davies.html' title='Eat my shit, Robertson Davies'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3900519859218656830</id><published>2008-12-30T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T11:20:12.167-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>New Years</title><content type='html'>Hello 2009!&lt;br /&gt;Except, it already feels like 2009 because of all the advertising for "new" 2009 cars.&lt;br /&gt;What, are these cars from the future or something?&lt;br /&gt;In any case: Good bye to the one and only 2008. Unless we start counting from some other calendar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My resolution?&lt;br /&gt;I don't have one.&lt;br /&gt;Id say I want to get "better" but I'm not really sure what "better" entails.&lt;br /&gt;So I'll just say this. I resolve to be more exciting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention I already have a huge list I need to complete before the end of the 2010 school year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3900519859218656830?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3900519859218656830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/new-years.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3900519859218656830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3900519859218656830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/new-years.html' title='New Years'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-346503599333319045</id><published>2008-12-22T20:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T09:59:42.958-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Greetings From A Snowy Purgatory!</title><content type='html'>Well, here  I am at blue mountain. As usual.&lt;br /&gt;Every year, we ship off to Blue Mountain with all our ski/snowboard equipment, enough food to sustain all 3 meals, and clothes. As usual, they ski every single waking hour to squeeze as much "fun" as they can from that lift ticket, and the money for the rooms. I am not talking about "we" here, as I don't really want to squeeze as much as humanly possible out of that poor sticker stuck to my jacket, like a static-y sock stuck to a cat.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; would like some time in those awesome outdoor hot tubs. My "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wonderful"&lt;/span&gt; friends would rather try and beat each other on my wii as I make weak protests against sitting there watching them. It has been an hour and a half now, and I hear the golf of wii sports being played. That's right, it has come down to golf. of all the sports, that's the one that nobody plays. ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, however, I broke with tradition, I slept in, ate breakfast, and informed everyone I was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; going snowboarding. Not surprisingly, everybody ignored it, and sat down to watch me eat my breakfast in an attempt to peer pressure me into eating faster so that they can get me bundled up in my jackets, pants, and boots to take me snowboarding. I wasn't going to fall for that dirty trick again, and re-informed all present that I was not going snowboarding at all. Interestingly enough, they eventually left. I sat by the window, finished reading Lord of the Flies [which I enjoyed], took a nap, woke up for lunch, and vegged out until my friends returned. All in all, a very pleasant day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, then the trouble starts. They begin to pester and bother, and for a while, we're pretty content with T.V. But the allure of the wii is just too much, and they begin a fierce match of wii sports (it was wiiplay yesterday.). ust now, one friend was shoved into a sharp corner, and scraped his back. Yes, they are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;competitive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case anyone is wondering, no, I have not even had time/opportunity to go guy spotting. Not. Even. On. T.V. The stupid children hanging around has hijacked the remote, and set it on Famly Channel 24/7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;p.s&lt;/span&gt; I lost the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;p.p.s&lt;/span&gt; I know this post sounds bratty, but my parents ignored my request to quit snowboarding for good, and instead bribed me in with new snowpants and boots. Yes, I love my new snowpants and boots, but I also remember why I wanted to quit now: My friends are jerks on the hills. Ever since breaking my arm, I just don't have the confidence to speed down the double black diamonds completely out of control. So, when they suggest the double black diamond trails, I protest, and cite responsibility and common sense. Of course, it's all thrown out the window, and me being oldest, is forced to follow along to make sure nobody dies. HOWEVER: I draw the line at the Glades. Against all the things I said, jerk friend #1 hopped into the glades, and dork friend #2 was lured in, like a true pre-teen follower. I stick my heels in here, and simply went down on the outer sides of the glades, to make sure that they don't die. Why I don't go? Well: a) I have no helmet b) I don't have the confidence for that c) I know that none of us was good enough to safely go down them as intended d) the weather wasn't the best e) I'm supposed to be responsible, and I know that ski patrol can't extract injured people very well from there.&lt;br /&gt;So really, I swear, i'm not half as bratty as I sound. If my friends grew some common sense,&lt;br /&gt;maybe I'd like snowboarding more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-346503599333319045?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/346503599333319045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/greetings-from-snowy-purgatory.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/346503599333319045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/346503599333319045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/greetings-from-snowy-purgatory.html' title='Greetings From A Snowy Purgatory!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-766778363849746367</id><published>2008-12-18T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T14:01:45.841-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>It's a posting Rampage!</title><content type='html'>Today is the (unofficial) last day of school!&lt;br /&gt;Mostly because no one goes on the actual last day anyways. It's just school custom.&lt;br /&gt;So, today, I send out les presents.&lt;br /&gt;My sack of wonders included:&lt;br /&gt;-Gonorrhea (The microbe plushie, not the STD)&lt;br /&gt;-Rabies (yet to be given)&lt;br /&gt;-A scarf&lt;br /&gt;-A CD+ gift receipt as I suspected (correctly) that she already had the CD&lt;br /&gt;-A White Blood cell (Also the plushie, gone to Jess)&lt;br /&gt;-A stack of pandas&lt;br /&gt;-A box of Toblerone  for everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Received to come later. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In anycase My ex-neighbour is visiting from England, and will be coming skiing with me and Ray for the next 4 days.&lt;br /&gt;AS MUCH AS I ENJOY HER COMPANY She drives me insane.&lt;br /&gt;Monopoly: Gloats about how she has no curb to her spending and therefore owns my ass at it, and only plays monopoly to own my ass at it.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday: Threw stale marshmallows at my head, and apparently, and I am the "host" and she is like, twelve, I don't have the right to kick her ass for doing it. If this continues, I WILL kick her ass, and probably shove some snow down there while I'm at it. &gt;(&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and since she (finally) hit puberty/had a growth spurt, she is like 2 inches taller than me and she like to hold that over my head too (pun not intended). Of course, if anyone paid any attention to genetics, it'd be pretty obvious that she'll be taller than me.&lt;br /&gt;Case and point?&lt;br /&gt;I am going to kill someone if she does not become a better person soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-766778363849746367?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/766778363849746367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-posting-rampage.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/766778363849746367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/766778363849746367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-posting-rampage.html' title='It&apos;s a posting Rampage!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-9030011568475754002</id><published>2008-12-17T18:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T18:57:37.302-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>DUN DUN DUNNNN</title><content type='html'>Shiying is on the loose.&lt;br /&gt;With the discovery of &lt;a href="http://www.newmindspace.com/"&gt;Newmindspace&lt;/a&gt;, a world of possibilities have opened up.&lt;br /&gt;The main one: I can accomplish the stuff on my list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember my&lt;a href="http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/22-ish-things-to-do-before-graduation.html"&gt; list&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also: Revision. Masquerade will now be replaced by the Zombie Walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished my art!&lt;br /&gt;The word is Smite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SUm79YLj2EI/AAAAAAAAABQ/WROzJbBac5s/s1600-h/Image.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 342px; height: 471px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SUm79YLj2EI/AAAAAAAAABQ/WROzJbBac5s/s400/Image.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280958701205968962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-9030011568475754002?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/9030011568475754002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/dun-dun-dunnnn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/9030011568475754002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/9030011568475754002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/dun-dun-dunnnn.html' title='DUN DUN DUNNNN'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SUm79YLj2EI/AAAAAAAAABQ/WROzJbBac5s/s72-c/Image.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-1664195830559576820</id><published>2008-12-16T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T13:17:28.772-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>A post, but not a post: The Deep End</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;STOLEN FROM JESS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Put your ipod on shuffle.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;4. Tag 10 friends who might enjoy doing this as well as the person you got the note from&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY? Gasolina&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY? Self Esteem (LOL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL? Henrietta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY? Supersonic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE? It's time to Dance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO? Freeway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU? Lies :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN? Out of My Head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND? Having to let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE? Shameless (LOL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY? Dammit, I Changed Again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP? Duality&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE? Guilty Pleasure (haha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU? Ambience&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING? Over the Moon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL? Destination Anywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST? Black Hole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS? Clouds Crash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN? Alive Again (Zombie?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HOW WILL YOU DIE? They Tried to Kill Chivalry (But We Brought it Back)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET? Change For Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH? Nothing Special&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT MAKES YOU CRY? The Tease&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED? Franco- Unamerican&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST? For the Girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU? Bruised&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE? Picture Day (Ha!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW? Yours to Keep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Allison Krausse (LOL)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS? The Deep End&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-1664195830559576820?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/1664195830559576820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/post-but-not-post-deep-end.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1664195830559576820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1664195830559576820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/post-but-not-post-deep-end.html' title='A post, but not a post: The Deep End'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-625672424615459939</id><published>2008-12-15T16:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T16:48:23.889-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do the Hellen Keller</title><content type='html'>...And talk with your hips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S'been a long time since the last blog.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.trusnow.com/images/products/en_us//detail/dt_bur09_w_casa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 176px; height: 176px;" src="http://www.trusnow.com/images/products/en_us//detail/dt_bur09_w_casa.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets see...&lt;br /&gt;-Went to Drop Everything's show, met some people, had fun&lt;br /&gt;-Went Christmas shopping but cannot post pictures quite yet&lt;br /&gt;-Bought new snow pants and snowboard boots, and will look bitchin' on the hills.&lt;br /&gt;-JIZZ IN MY PANTS*&lt;br /&gt;-Went to a (very sad) party&lt;br /&gt;-Finished my English ILU in clown makeup&lt;br /&gt;-Terrified people with my clown make up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, a pretty fun few weeks. Now I am plotting for an awesome winter break, perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN OTHER NEWS:&lt;br /&gt;I've decided, I want to learn &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Esparanto"&gt;Esperanto &lt;/a&gt; it's only the coolest language ever. Conceived as an international language, it never really got THAT big, but there are a few hundred native speakers. That's pretty good for a made up language.&lt;br /&gt;I plan to learn Esperanto through the miracle that is the INTERNET!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* Jizz in my pants is amazing. Really, good music AND crazy humour. Plus the fact that it has like 8 million views in a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4pXfHLUlZf4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4pXfHLUlZf4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-625672424615459939?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/625672424615459939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/do-hellen-keller.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/625672424615459939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/625672424615459939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/12/do-hellen-keller.html' title='Do the Hellen Keller'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4363692599581593251</id><published>2008-11-30T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T14:25:05.500-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Why is it that I have more "Random" posts than anything else?</title><content type='html'>Methinks I'll do another list.&lt;br /&gt;Of the things I like on teh internetz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Das Webcomics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.questionablecontent.net/"&gt;Questionable Content&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.xkcd.net/"&gt;XKCD&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.asofterworld.com/index.php"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Softer World&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://explosm.net/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cyanide and Happiness&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://picturesforsadchildren.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures for Sad Children&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lefthandedtoons.com/"&gt;Left-handed toons (by Right-handed People)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Das Blags&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passive-Aggressive Notes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://failblog.org/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fail Blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://overheardinnewyork.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overheard in New York&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Das Misc.&lt;a href="http://www.instructables.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.instructables.com/"&gt;Instructables&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://venganza.org/forum/index.php"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FSM Forums&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://dubious.nu/forum/index.php"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snark Forums&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.freshofftheblog.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fresh off the Blog &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-4363692599581593251?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4363692599581593251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-is-it-that-i-have-more-random-posts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4363692599581593251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4363692599581593251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-is-it-that-i-have-more-random-posts.html' title='Why is it that I have more &quot;Random&quot; posts than anything else?'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4188138347673706070</id><published>2008-11-25T17:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:01:45.724-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>-Click-</title><content type='html'>Today, Me, Jess, Christina, Hannah and Jana went to the photography studio dealio in the school, and we modeled for Hanna and Jana's portraits. It was superfun! Serious.&lt;br /&gt;- Mad hatter + Dormouse + Alice = Awesome! (I totally want a copy.)&lt;br /&gt;And then there were the random weird portraits of me being a) normal b) glamorous and c) creeper.&lt;br /&gt;Plus Hannah and her awesome makeup, and Jess being Jess :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, later, Jess and I worked on the ILU for English, and we have an amazing presentation waiting to be written.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In camera spirit, I leave this video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KOFy8QkNWWs&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KOFy8QkNWWs&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-4188138347673706070?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4188138347673706070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/click_25.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4188138347673706070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4188138347673706070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/click_25.html' title='-Click-'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-544505768713830293</id><published>2008-11-23T17:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T18:01:53.579-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>So I realised how many of my posts start with a "so..."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SSoHL3FA5kI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZWeuXYc2tZg/s1600-h/DSC_0911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 146px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SSoHL3FA5kI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZWeuXYc2tZg/s320/DSC_0911.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272034214135522882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is cold.&lt;br /&gt;And I have baked some Tiny pies!&lt;br /&gt;I made some tiny dough, and some tiny apples that I peeled with a tiny knife. Then I used tiny sugar and tiny cinnamon in a tiny oven to bake them. TINY.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just kidding. They're apple pies, in cupcake size. Portable Pie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN OTHER NEWS:&lt;br /&gt;Polyester: Just another synthetic fabric? Or is it harvested from the depths of the ocean by shady fabric companies?&lt;br /&gt;Fact: Polyesters are tiny organisms that live at the bottom of the sea near the sulfur volcanoes. They feed on the heat and naturally weave themselves together to prevent being separated and hunted by other fabrics, like Lycra. A polyester floating around by its self is easy prey for the larger weaves, and it's soon absorbed by another polyester weave, if it's lucky, or it's devoured and weaved into some Lycra pants. Life as a polyester is not easy, from birth, it is in constant danger. Pubescent polyesters leave their weaves to find new communities to settle down and raise a family in. But, they are hunted by the already mentioned Lycra, not to mention the elusive Satin, and worst of all, the clothing companies. The young polyester is hunted in its youth when it is large enough to survive on its own, and away from any other pesky weaves before it turns too rigid for wear. The Polyesters are pulled out of the sea by deep-sea trawlers that hunt for polyester with static. After it is harvested it is forced into an unnatural weave and sown into fabrics. If it is not soaked in time, it will being to smell of decay ("that new clothes smell") and it won't be able to be revived if the season passes, where upon only bargain hunters who know the secret to polyester revival will be able to save them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, next time you buy polyester, make sure it is from sustainable polyester harvesting methods.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-544505768713830293?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/544505768713830293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-i-realised-how-many-of-my-posts.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/544505768713830293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/544505768713830293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-i-realised-how-many-of-my-posts.html' title='So I realised how many of my posts start with a &quot;so...&quot;'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SSoHL3FA5kI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZWeuXYc2tZg/s72-c/DSC_0911.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-8305751041149820341</id><published>2008-11-22T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T13:17:02.587-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>It's a fluffy cloud day</title><content type='html'>or rather, it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving home from riding today, I spotted some awesome fluffy clouds, just like the ones on that one day in summer. If you looked at those clouds long enough, you could see faces, and people and animals frolicking in there. I like fluffy cloud days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fastlanetransport.ca/blog/wp-content/uploads/2007/04/angora-rabbit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 205px; height: 156px;" src="http://www.fastlanetransport.ca/blog/wp-content/uploads/2007/04/angora-rabbit.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of fluffy, I think angora rabbits are the most amazing things ever. They are possibly the only pet in the world that resembles a pom pom with a nose. Plus, they also serve as a fountain of hair to knit into angora sweaters or mittens or scarves or... hats? Or instead of knitting, crocheting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always wanted to learn to crochet- and by always wanted I mean: I want to because I lost my mittens. My poor mittens are probably running away on a bus or something by now. :(&lt;br /&gt;I miss my mittens!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT FOR CHRISTMAS REGINA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-8305751041149820341?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/8305751041149820341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-fluffy-cloud-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8305751041149820341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8305751041149820341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-fluffy-cloud-day.html' title='It&apos;s a fluffy cloud day'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-21549693690097974</id><published>2008-11-15T17:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T17:26:54.679-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Is it true what they told me, America?</title><content type='html'>As that last blog was a sorry excuse of writing, I shall blab about something else.&lt;br /&gt;Namely: The Epicness of all that is &lt;a href="http://davesmallen.com/america/"&gt;Dave Smallen&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Well.. Just click on the link, okay?&lt;br /&gt;Everything else will resolve itself, Buddhist style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the other day, I asked my mom what exactly is Buddhism, and the reply I get can be summarized as follows: Karma will get you. You just don't know when. And that includes your reincarnations too.&lt;br /&gt;So, evil do-ers, be afraid. Be very afraid.&lt;br /&gt;Then again, if you don't remember any of your other lives, I suppose you have no reason to worry. Since assholes don't really care about others anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and if anyone is getting me a Christmas present, PLEASE make it an iTunes gift card. I'd love to buy the albums you can't find 'round these parts. Namely, so I can pay Dave Smallen for his amazing music, yes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-21549693690097974?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/21549693690097974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/is-it-true-what-they-told-me-america.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/21549693690097974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/21549693690097974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/is-it-true-what-they-told-me-america.html' title='Is it true what they told me, America?'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4798556531281087791</id><published>2008-11-14T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T12:48:02.756-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Most. Random. Day. EVER</title><content type='html'>So, in chemistry yesterday, I got some gum on my pants. So Jen and I went to the washroom to wash it off.&lt;br /&gt; Of course, that involves removal of pants. In the process of getting the gum off, we manage to completely soak the pants. I'm standing there in my underwear trying to dry them off. Of course, being a bathroom, people go in and out, and shoot weird looks at me. And I can only reply "I got gum on my pants!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on, I had to bring in my 20KM/H sign into English for our presentation. (Pics of sign to come later) But after school, Jess and I went to Starbucks for some lemon poppy seed loaf+ Drinks. Of course, I'd have to take the sign with me. Now,  hile walking down the street, I saw two kids, one pushing the other in what appeared to be a stolen shopping cart from Shoppers Drugmart.&lt;br /&gt;later on, I walked by some dorky kids that ask me if I made or stole the sign. Of course, I had to walk with the writing sign turned away from the street to prevent anyone trying to arrest me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In anycase, glad that's over. I'm sitting at home this weekend. FUN&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-4798556531281087791?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4798556531281087791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/most-random-day-ever.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4798556531281087791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4798556531281087791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/most-random-day-ever.html' title='Most. Random. Day. EVER'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-6922914194476753885</id><published>2008-11-12T17:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T17:54:13.968-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>I am a procrastinatar.</title><content type='html'>A terrible, terrible procrastinatar.&lt;br /&gt;I was going to write a blag post.&lt;br /&gt;But I put it off until tomorrah.&lt;br /&gt;I was gonna complete my leest.&lt;br /&gt;But... it can woit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise I'll stop mispronpouncing things now. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, my point was that I was thinking about my list of things to do, and how I have not done a single one in a month.&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm thinking at the first sign of snowfall, I will make LED floaties, and turn Jack Darling Park into a magical place with glowing orbs.&lt;br /&gt;But the whole battery being left behind bothers me, so I might scrawl "TAKE ME HOME" on them.&lt;br /&gt;Either way, pictures shall accompany glowies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news: I just received my compete Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy today. I'm excited&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-6922914194476753885?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/6922914194476753885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-am-procrastinatar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6922914194476753885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6922914194476753885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-am-procrastinatar.html' title='I am a procrastinatar.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-2915811646868121480</id><published>2008-11-06T15:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T16:24:49.992-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Bite me, UN</title><content type='html'>All my friends are in Model UN&lt;br /&gt;All my friends are in Model UN&lt;br /&gt;All my friends are in Model UN&lt;br /&gt;All my friends are in Model UN&lt;br /&gt;All my friends are in Model UN&lt;br /&gt;I hate Model UN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will make my own model organization.&lt;br /&gt;Model KKK?&lt;br /&gt;Too racist.&lt;br /&gt;Model GreenPeace?&lt;br /&gt;Too green.&lt;br /&gt;Model NATO?&lt;br /&gt;Too weird.&lt;br /&gt;Model WHO?&lt;br /&gt;Perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All members of the Model WHO will meet Next week at 15:47 to discuss Salmonella, ineffective?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Model UN, I would like my friends back, please.&lt;br /&gt;Or else, I will commence the bombing. With &lt;a href="http://asofterworld.com"&gt;Truth and Beauty bombs.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take that! Future adults of the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-2915811646868121480?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/2915811646868121480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/bite-me-un.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2915811646868121480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2915811646868121480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/bite-me-un.html' title='Bite me, UN'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-446156803643593173</id><published>2008-11-03T12:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T13:32:05.343-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Moo Sick</title><content type='html'>Long over due blog!&lt;br /&gt;Considering I just got my Limewire back, I feel that this is a pretty appropriate time to blog about none other than my favourite music.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blog.fmrockandpop.com/theoffspring-rafrag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 143px; height: 132px;" src="http://blog.fmrockandpop.com/theoffspring-rafrag.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's start with the beginning. Way back in 7thish grade, there was The Offspring. Of course, they are still in my top 10 bands as a permanent fixture, but I must say Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace's album art disappointed me. Seriously, when your least successful albums sell a couple million copies, I think you can afford to make something that looks less like it was done with MS paint.&lt;br /&gt;But anyways. My tastes grew and evolved, I had my indie phase, my hardcore phase, my dance phase, my pop punk phase, and now it's just a mush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's list my top 20 minus the Offspring (in the order I thought of):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/thematches"&gt;The Matches&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/farewell"&gt;Farewell&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/davesmallen"&gt;Street to Nowhere/Dave Smallen&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/familyforce5"&gt;Family Force 5&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/cobrastarship"&gt;Cobra Starship&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/breakingbenjamin"&gt;Breaking Benjamin &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/rediscover"&gt;Rediscover&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/inkwell"&gt;Inkwell&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/katevoegele"&gt;Kate Voegele &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/wearethefury"&gt;We Are The Fury&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/ubiquitoussynergyseeker"&gt;USS&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/thornleymusic"&gt;Thornley&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/threedaysgrace"&gt;Three Days Grace&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/teddybears"&gt;Teddybears &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/sherwood"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sherwood&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/myfavoritehighway"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Favorite Highway&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/sugarcult"&gt;Sugarcult&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/shewantsrevenge"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She Wants Revenge&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/littlebabyfratelli"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Fratellis&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="www.myspace.com/thehighcourt"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The High Court&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tadah!&lt;br /&gt;Either way, my tastes change now and then, and I realise I really don't have 20 TOP bands, but a bunch of bands I like. So, there you go.&lt;br /&gt;I am off to the dentist!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-446156803643593173?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/446156803643593173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/moo-sick.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/446156803643593173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/446156803643593173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/11/moo-sick.html' title='Moo Sick'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-1221488265955130474</id><published>2008-10-29T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T19:31:45.723-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Dear Winter</title><content type='html'>Please for the love of god, go away. I mean I know that it'll provoke all the green-obsessed, but I can put up with whining better than severe frostbite. It might not have been all that bad had it not been for the fact that my pink mittens are missing. I loved those mittens, and it saddens me to think that i can't wear them again. The lovely Alex did get me an awesome pair (pics laters) of mittens, but they're quite large and I think I'll wear them when winter really sets in. But, I digress.&lt;br /&gt;Although I live in Canada, I think I am entitled to a mildly balmy winter, or at least a smooth transition. But no, Winter is like the old crotchety man of the seasons, it's incontinent and likes to meddle with the affairs of other seasons, namely fall. I have a fall jacket, I have a winter jacket. But my fall jacket isn't as thick as it could be and therefore is not very warm when it is under 5 degrees Celsius. Problem here? I don't want to wear my winter jacket just yet, and my fall jacket is unsuitable for heavy layering; unless of course I begin removing buttons.&lt;br /&gt;This sudden switch between 14 degrees to snowing is very confusing and frustrating. It's impossible to gauge what to wear everyday knowing you're either going to be sweltering or frozen to the bones. What happened to the crisp autumn days I used to love? It's all gone now apparently no thanks to the humidity that likes to hang around.&lt;br /&gt;I suppose what I'm trying to say to winter is: please leave my fall days alone! Fall is my favourite season, and this is not a pleasant autumn!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-1221488265955130474?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/1221488265955130474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/dear-winter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1221488265955130474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1221488265955130474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/dear-winter.html' title='Dear Winter'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-6803252855479773398</id><published>2008-10-26T18:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T18:26:14.539-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Random Act of Pirate!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ohPs6aIdwMo/SPeqMRrbD7I/AAAAAAAAALc/AsD5l7KmAGc/s320/randomactofpirate.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 130px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ohPs6aIdwMo/SPeqMRrbD7I/AAAAAAAAALc/AsD5l7KmAGc/s320/randomactofpirate.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Victoria, &lt;a href="http://www.purplesuburbansky.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jessica&lt;/a&gt; and I have taken up random act of pirating. Basically, we printed out the pirate (on the left) and tape it to people in a stealthy manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of stealthy, &lt;a href="http://www.kloonigames.com/blog/"&gt;Kloonigames&lt;/a&gt; has a pirate fishing game out! If you were oh so cool, you'd have heard of Crayon Physics which was created by Kloonigames.. in a week. That's right. What does this have to do with stealth? Well, between weekly game making hiatus, he made a &lt;a href="http://www.kloonigames.com/blog/games/boulder"&gt;game&lt;/a&gt; about the boulder in Raiders of the Lost Ark. And if anyone ever decides to download the game and play it, they'll quickly realise the awesomeness of all that is the boulder and its stealthyness. What I'm trying to say here is Kloonigames is pwn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and here's a sneezing panda for shits and giggles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FzRH3iTQPrk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FzRH3iTQPrk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-6803252855479773398?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/6803252855479773398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/random-act-of-pirate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6803252855479773398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/6803252855479773398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/random-act-of-pirate.html' title='Random Act of Pirate!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ohPs6aIdwMo/SPeqMRrbD7I/AAAAAAAAALc/AsD5l7KmAGc/s72-c/randomactofpirate.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-2577459671204445383</id><published>2008-10-25T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T13:03:42.585-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The list'/><title type='text'>22 (ish) things to do before graduation</title><content type='html'>Take a (small) road trip&lt;br /&gt;Go to a drive in movie&lt;br /&gt;Get &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; the friends into one swimming pool (anyone volunteering their pool?)&lt;br /&gt;(Edit!) Go craft bombing&lt;br /&gt;Befriend a random person&lt;br /&gt;Hold a stake out&lt;br /&gt;Have a picnic dinner and watch the stars&lt;br /&gt;Hold a subway party- Edit: We may be arrested by the transit crew, so we might have to substitute a block party instead&lt;br /&gt;Hold a mustache party&lt;br /&gt;Learn and successfully conduct a magic trick&lt;br /&gt;Pull an actual April Fools prank&lt;br /&gt;Go clubbing&lt;br /&gt;Plant a tree&lt;br /&gt;Go skating at city hall&lt;br /&gt;Make &lt;a href="http://www.instructables.com/id/LED-Floaties/"&gt;LED floaties&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visit a long lost friend (or a far away friend)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.shopdropping.net/"&gt;Shop Drop&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hold a masquerade&lt;br /&gt;Commit a random act of kindness&lt;br /&gt;Bungee jump at Canada's Wonderland&lt;br /&gt;Double date&lt;br /&gt;Attend the Toronto International Film Festival&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-2577459671204445383?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/2577459671204445383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/22-ish-things-to-do-before-graduation.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2577459671204445383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/2577459671204445383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/22-ish-things-to-do-before-graduation.html' title='22 (ish) things to do before graduation'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-609011669267694705</id><published>2008-10-19T18:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T18:35:49.915-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>The Odyssey!</title><content type='html'>So, our history class is watching "The Odyssey" but not just any version, it's the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;TV miniseries from 1997&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;This movie is utterly ridiculous, characters, acting, and the random sex scenes between Penelope and the sea. Like WTF?&lt;br /&gt;right, So in the beginning, Odysseus's son is born.&lt;br /&gt;Okay. this movie is too ridiculous to blog about. I just... CAN'T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I bought Regina the (only) first season of &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Av19KlsTM5Y"&gt;jPod&lt;/a&gt;, and we ended up watching the entire first disk, consecutively. It's the best thing that has ever graced TV, with the possible exception to Pushing Daises and Dexter. House is pretty good, but not the BEST.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you were wondering why I did not embed the video, it's because I can't.&lt;br /&gt;Either way, jPod is pwn. Like actually.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-609011669267694705?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/609011669267694705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/odyssey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/609011669267694705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/609011669267694705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/odyssey.html' title='The Odyssey!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-8349047660739651708</id><published>2008-10-16T16:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T13:35:18.568-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>So I was doing some online shopping...</title><content type='html'>and I come across &lt;a href="http://www.modcloth.com/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Namely, this dress.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.modcloth.com/store/images/062608_01_L.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.modcloth.com/store/images/062608_01_L.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was actually looking for the Judy Jetson dress, but that one is pretty awesome. Unfortunately, I don't really like to buy clothes off the internet in case I look stupid in it, and then I'll have to pay twice the shipping or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, our history is watching a made for TV mini series on "The Odyssey" (while I typed that, I realised how awkward odyssey is to spell) and I must say it is the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen. But that's another story for another time :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-8349047660739651708?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/8349047660739651708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-i-was-doing-some-online-shopping.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8349047660739651708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8349047660739651708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-i-was-doing-some-online-shopping.html' title='So I was doing some online shopping...'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4517825804529122857</id><published>2008-10-05T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T16:02:05.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So I glued my fingers together yesterday.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SOqYmEAQzoI/AAAAAAAAAAw/O4_n-o1A5uE/s1600-h/Oops.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 151px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SOqYmEAQzoI/AAAAAAAAAAw/O4_n-o1A5uE/s200/Oops.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254179694958399106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually. With superglue. Luckily, nail polish remover dissolves the bond. Well, actually, Acetone. So if you've got an acetone-free nail polish remover, you're screwed.&lt;br /&gt;So I was working on my art project, the lego sculpture. I was supergluing most of the parts together (2 decks of cards, two matchboxes, two forkettes/ tiny tiny forks, a candle, a paper hat, and one salt shaker) to make something that kind of resembles Lego. And somehow, my had slips, and I find two of my fingers stuck together. Intrestingly enough, this is not the first time it's happened. My mom glued her finger to the glue bottle once, and I was stuck on google duty.&lt;br /&gt;In anycase, m&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SOqY0LKOLII/AAAAAAAAAA4/aQhzapqP_UI/s1600-h/Pirates.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 109px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SOqY0LKOLII/AAAAAAAAAA4/aQhzapqP_UI/s200/Pirates.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254179937397386370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;y lego dude is done, but I don't think he really looks like the original, which kind of makes me sad. and by kind of I mean it's quite tragic. (again, I have pictures, they will arrive sooner or later) But whatever, I'm done, and that's all that matters!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also: I recently discovered the wonders of &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;La vache qui rit, &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;you know, the cheese? It's amazing! Very yum, waaaaay better than cream cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I just have to post some pictures my dad took of the Fam &amp;amp; Friends...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SOqYDH9lFWI/AAAAAAAAAAg/2HFLFWdxRNU/s1600-h/Rick+n+Forest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SOqYDH9lFWI/AAAAAAAAAAg/2HFLFWdxRNU/s400/Rick+n+Forest.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254179094725465442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SOqYY21wToI/AAAAAAAAAAo/4lu1zYIE6Gk/s1600-h/Rick%21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SOqYY21wToI/AAAAAAAAAAo/4lu1zYIE6Gk/s400/Rick%21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254179468086365826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-4517825804529122857?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4517825804529122857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-i-glued-my-fingers-together.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4517825804529122857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4517825804529122857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-i-glued-my-fingers-together.html' title='So I glued my fingers together yesterday.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SOqYmEAQzoI/AAAAAAAAAAw/O4_n-o1A5uE/s72-c/Oops.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-8345835875767136262</id><published>2008-09-28T15:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T16:00:10.806-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>OMG! Free things!</title><content type='html'>What is it about people that will give them the urge to rush towards free stuff? Especially stuff you know you won't use. Case and point: This Friday, I was at the University fair, of course, there's tonnes of free stuff floating around there, but the catch is you probably have to enter your email/address/etc to receive spam (or bacn) from the schools before you can collect your free things. So, me and my dear friends stand in a crowd of high school kids furiously trying to get to the computers so they can enter fake emails and names to get a mediocre t-shirt that they'll probably never wear. Me? I decided being sweat on was not worth the t-shirt and stepped outside of the mob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon leaving the fair (T-shirts in our free bags taken from Nipissing University along with the rest of our plundered goods) we realise that beside the fair was a bunch of tents set up by various companies (sony/some razor company/fruitopia) that had been giving out various free samples &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;all day long&lt;/span&gt;. So, we rush in grab all the free razors and fruitopia shots that we can and leave before our bus leaves us. (Note: the razors were being handed out by men in pink fireman costumes, sadly I have no pictures)&lt;br /&gt;Did I learn anything from the University Fair? Sure. Things about the specific schools and such? Not really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-8345835875767136262?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/8345835875767136262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/omg-free-things.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8345835875767136262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8345835875767136262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/omg-free-things.html' title='OMG! Free things!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3340351063585044383</id><published>2008-09-23T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:00:14.143-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Life, with LOLCATS and Regina</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/06/funny-pictures-orange-cat-so-weird.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 137px;" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/06/funny-pictures-orange-cat-so-weird.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, Regina is the top honcho if my friends were some kind of Canadian mob. And as a descriptor of me and Regina, see picture. I, the cat with the paper towels, and Regina, the hunched angry looking one. Haha, I am kidding. Regina's not angry, just hunched.&lt;br /&gt;If one were to chronicle my life, a large portion of it would be in Regina's house watching her cook stuff while I wait for my parents to come home because I forgot my key.. again.&lt;br /&gt;I just told Regina I was blogging about her, and I get a "Why?!"&lt;br /&gt;Note the interrobang. Despite frequent interrobang usage, Regina's actually pretty big on grammar. I wouldn't be surprised if she was bored one day, and decided to tell me all the grammatical mistakes I've made on my measly 8 posts. Of course, she has other old school hobbies like cross words, and piano playing/cadence finding/listening for chord progressions in various works of music none of which are classical. Not to mention her &lt;a href="http://douteux.net/wp/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt; that she spends (I think) ridiculous amounts of energy on. (Was that a shamelss plug?)&lt;br /&gt;Either way, We are friends. And we think alike &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;way&lt;/span&gt; too much. Every so often, we see something, look at each other, and say the exact same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks something like this:&lt;br /&gt;Guess who's who?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v299/98/2/503723338/n503723338_856577_5016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 138px; height: 181px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v299/98/2/503723338/n503723338_856577_5016.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3340351063585044383?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3340351063585044383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/life-with-lolcats.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3340351063585044383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3340351063585044383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/life-with-lolcats.html' title='Life, with LOLCATS and Regina'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-5401423059373918101</id><published>2008-09-22T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T16:31:11.750-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>-BAM- You're anxious!</title><content type='html'>So, today, I had a random wave of anxiety/worry/general badness hit me as I walked down a very crowded hall at the end of school. I have no idea why, I have no problem with crowds, nothing particularly agitating had happened recently, and I don't usually get anxious. So I was standing at my bus stop looking like a loser with no friends and a frown (no one that smiles is truly anxious). I get on the bus, talk to my friend, and we reached the conclusion that something strange is going down.  So I check my horoscope (yeah yeah) and I see:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get things out of the way early. Once you have freed up your time, you can concentrate on the personal issues in your life that are stressing you out. Bring things out in the open and explain your position. 2 stars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's clearly telling me to get my homework done, and then freak out over what may or may not be happening that I am no aware of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sound extra paranoid today. Maybe I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-5401423059373918101?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/5401423059373918101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/bam-youre-anxious.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5401423059373918101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/5401423059373918101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/bam-youre-anxious.html' title='-BAM- You&apos;re anxious!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-8107230069195779418</id><published>2008-09-16T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T19:31:59.344-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Dear Ms Gender-roles-I-love-my-baby-Stickler,</title><content type='html'>I hate the homework you give us with unrealistic expectations for its completeness. If a "quiz" took 30 min+, it's probably a good indication that you should allow us more time so we can submit superior work. Now, you'll stuck marking mediocre sentences strung together in a semi-coherent manner done at 3am in the morning. No, I cannot do an essay in an hour and 15 minutes. Furthermore, (See, I used a transition word there) the sheer amount of homework we are receiving impedes our ability to do well in anything else. Currently I have approximately an hour or two of harmony homework that I can't do because my brain is exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;Now, the ILU, what's this "you should be working on your ILU 3-4 times a week" stuff? Are we supposed to read a page at a time or something?! There is only so much one person can do in the course of a week, and frankly, this just isn't going to happen. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Especially&lt;/span&gt; if You keep giving us homework!&lt;br /&gt;So, If you could kindly stop giving us homework long enough for me to breathe, and fix my posture from lugging around all your hand outs, I'd be grateful. See that? Not even a demand for no more homework, just a pause. If things don't go according to my plan, I may have to move onto plan omega. And that involves stealing some of your hair, a small doll, and some sharp pins.&lt;br /&gt;Good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-8107230069195779418?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/8107230069195779418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/dear-ms-gender-roles-i-love-my-baby.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8107230069195779418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8107230069195779418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/dear-ms-gender-roles-i-love-my-baby.html' title='Dear Ms Gender-roles-I-love-my-baby-Stickler,'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-4896322938488077222</id><published>2008-09-14T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T17:46:46.277-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Rain, Rain, Go Away</title><content type='html'>Now, don't get me wrong. I love rain. But it's mid September now, and I want my crisp autumn mornings! Every day I step outside, take a breath, and realise it's brisk, but damp. Disappointing. It's spring all over again, but instead of coming to life, everything is dying. Leaves are only fun when they're dry and crisp, like most things in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-664.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v315/110/16/504282664/n504282664_1224460_3814.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 100px;" src="http://photos-664.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v315/110/16/504282664/n504282664_1224460_3814.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now, you're probably wondering about that horse in a purple.. thing. That thing is a head and shoulder guard, and that horse is from the stable I ride at. Why do I post this? Because it is amusing. (Of course, I stole it off of some person's facebook when I saw someone commented on it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, I've relocated the &lt;a href="http://www.attusapparel.com/"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt; that sells the only polos I would approve of on a human being. Solely for the fact that they are hilarious. And of course, where there are polos, there is &lt;a href="http://www.attusapparel.com/planet-douche/"&gt;collar popping!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S Down with unicorns!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-4896322938488077222?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/4896322938488077222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/rain-rain-go-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4896322938488077222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/4896322938488077222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/rain-rain-go-away.html' title='Rain, Rain, Go Away'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-369929687088111032</id><published>2008-09-10T17:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T14:39:21.112-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>-Yawn-</title><content type='html'>Well, I am officially bored. And now, I am blogging about being bored. Does that make me boring?&lt;br /&gt;Alas, I can't remember what I used to do on the internet all day before. Facebook took over and erased all my amusement ideas. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;Life is dull and irritable. I just want to grab my English teacher and tell her that her baby is ugly, and it'll grow up to be a failure. I'm tired of hearing about her damned baby! (And she's only mentioned it a few times) But also, she rambles on and on and on and on about things, but here's the thing: She never strays off topic into something actually interesting. Just the same old junk.&lt;br /&gt;I've been considering going for a run for quite some time now. And I have no excuses not to. I have a treadmill in the basement, I'm just lazy. Oh and my knees kind of hurt right now. BUT LIKE THAT'LL STOP ME. -Flexes crazy muscles-&lt;br /&gt;In other news: this &lt;a href="http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/education/article4698949.ece"&gt;man&lt;/a&gt; is trying to kill English as we know it. Does he not realise how irritating it will be to read "We ll all b duumd! DUUUUMMMMD!" I hope this never gets past the rational people. Plus, the apostrophe is not a hard concept. It shortens things. The end.&lt;br /&gt;Alas, I leave the computer so my dad can install my music on to this computer (Fred)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-369929687088111032?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/369929687088111032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/yawn.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/369929687088111032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/369929687088111032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/yawn.html' title='-Yawn-'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-3312415146928580722</id><published>2008-09-08T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T10:01:54.622-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>Back to the daily grind.</title><content type='html'>School(!) is back.&lt;br /&gt;I have mixed feelings about school. I like my friends, I like seeing my friends, I like catching up with my friends, heck, I even like learning at school. But on the other hand (there are another 5 fingers) I don't really like the hard work, the slaving and the carrying of a horrid backpack everywhere. But, as always I have to attend school so I can attend another school which is supposed to prepare me for the "future" whatever that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, I'm still reading A Fragment of the Whole by Steve Toltz. It's good, still only a teeny tiny bit in (91? pages) Frankly, I'm surprised with myself, I usually burn through books like a fire through, well, books. But I'll take my time with this one. (plus I have plenty to keep me busy)&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of books, I just saw that the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;worst&lt;/span&gt; book I've ever read got a 5/5 rating on Amazon, while the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;best&lt;/span&gt; book I've ever read (Have you ever had a 5 page short story move you to tears? Didn't think so) gets a 4/5 rating. There is no justice in the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-3312415146928580722?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/3312415146928580722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/back-to-daily-grind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3312415146928580722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/3312415146928580722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/back-to-daily-grind.html' title='Back to the daily grind.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-8727379939352212546</id><published>2008-09-07T09:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T13:43:58.821-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>We're coughing up ice cubes here.</title><content type='html'>Canada lives up to its name.&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting in my house, wearing a sweater wishing I had my scarf. (Yes, the scarf actually helps) I'd be wearing mittens, but I'm typing. Of course, it's only early September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news: I have to eat lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and as a closing thought, I leave you with &lt;a href="http://www.reuters.com/article/oddlyEnoughNews/idUSL336567920080903?feedType=RSS&amp;amp;feedName=oddlyEnoughNews&amp;amp;rpc=69"&gt;this &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-8727379939352212546?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/8727379939352212546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/were-coughing-up-ice-cubes-here.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8727379939352212546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/8727379939352212546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/were-coughing-up-ice-cubes-here.html' title='We&apos;re coughing up ice cubes here.'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3898853713353590966.post-1930472484595018941</id><published>2008-09-05T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T13:57:31.893-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random'/><title type='text'>Greetings!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SMGX8QZIZKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ICiTTDRvjfU/s1600-h/S+hiying%21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SMGX8QZIZKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ICiTTDRvjfU/s200/S+hiying%21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242638502684288162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, welcome to my first post on this blog.&lt;br /&gt;I am Shiying, I am me. As you can see, I'm Asian. And Female. And Teenaged. But don't worry, I don't like the Twilight series, and I am not filled with angst. And instead of rambling on about myself like a narcissistic maniac, I will fill out a quiz given to us by our english teacher. Ready? 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   &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;    &lt;w:splitpgbreakandparamark/&gt;    &lt;w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/&gt;    &lt;w:dontbreakconstrainedforcedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:dontvertalignintxbx/&gt;    &lt;w:word11kerningpairs/&gt;    &lt;w:cachedcolbalance/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;m:mathpr&gt;    &lt;m:mathfont val="Cambria Math"&gt;    &lt;m:brkbin val="before"&gt;    &lt;m:brkbinsub val="&amp;#45;-"&gt;    &lt;m:smallfrac val="off"&gt;    &lt;m:dispdef/&gt;    &lt;m:lmargin val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:rmargin val="0"&gt;    &lt;m:defjc val="centerGroup"&gt;    &lt;m:wrapindent val="1440"&gt;    &lt;m:intlim val="subSup"&gt;    &lt;m:narylim val="undOvr"&gt;   &lt;/m:mathPr&gt;&lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" defunhidewhenused="true" defsemihidden="true" defqformat="false" defpriority="99" latentstylecount="267"&gt; 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Dulche du Leche ice cream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A hobby that occupies your time: Web comics, The internet, knowing random stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A country you'd like to explore: Madagascar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Favorite sound: I... don't know... Wind Chimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A favorite meal: People! (I kid, I kid)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A favorite board game: Clue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Magazine you read most frequently: I don't... But If I did, it would be something bizzare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Singer or band to which you currently prefer to listen: Er, too many. Current Faves include: The Matches, Ludo, and of course, The Offspring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The film you could watch over and over: Forrest Gump. It's classic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Film most recently seen: Monsters Inc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Book you are presently reading (excluding school material): Fragments of a Whole. I recommend it. It's AMAZING (more on this some other time)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A tv show you watch regularly: House, Futurama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;An actor/actress whose performances you admire: Cristian Bale?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Favorite day of the week: Gnorblengovenday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Your favorite time of day: 11:08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A piece of clothing you love to wear: Pirate Costumes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Your cologne or perfume: Depends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Under your bed you hide.....hideous monsters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If you could afford to buy it at this moment, you would buy: Horses! Lots of them. For eating. (Is she joking?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Your strangest possession: The heads of my enemies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Your most prized possession: My... Fred.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is mostly it for now.&lt;br /&gt;This is a blog, much like the others you've seen. Random musings/observations/ranting about my day/raving about my day/blithering/and all that other jazz.&lt;br /&gt;And now, you can continue your life as you know it. Except, now you know there's my blog out there, where I can regurgitate ideas onto the internets. Or create ideas. But that's just how it goes. Just try and stop me. &gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3898853713353590966-1930472484595018941?l=boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/feeds/1930472484595018941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/greetings_05.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1930472484595018941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3898853713353590966/posts/default/1930472484595018941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://boxboxboxfridge.blogspot.com/2008/09/greetings_05.html' title='Greetings!'/><author><name>Shiying!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01277236823861370845</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SY-cCy8l0-I/AAAAAAAAAB0/hF_We3LK_GU/S220/DSC_1354.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Hrc1BScB6q8/SMGX8QZIZKI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ICiTTDRvjfU/s72-c/S+hiying%21.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
