<?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-3383104308366276571</id><updated>2011-08-17T03:25:54.598+08:00</updated><category term='Marriage'/><category term='Dr Sheikh Muszaphar'/><category term='Boyfriend'/><category term='Chaser'/><category term='Family'/><category term='Heroes'/><category term='Friends'/><category term='Nothing'/><category term='Colleagues'/><category term='Relationship'/><category term='Hot Guy'/><category term='Movie'/><category term='Crush'/><category term='ESS'/><category term='Games'/><category term='Kelly Clarkson'/><category term='Sex'/><category term='Siblings'/><category term='Ramblings'/><category term='Sale'/><category term='Work'/><category term='Money'/><category term='Jokes'/><category term='Bitchings'/><category term='Trip'/><category term='Switchfoot'/><category term='Social'/><category term='TV'/><category term='Dating'/><category term='Buffy the Vampire Slayer'/><category term='Social Life'/><category term='Slayers'/><category term='Music'/><category term='Celebs'/><category term='Eid'/><category term='Concert'/><category term='Birthday'/><category term='Fag Hags'/><category term='Vacation'/><category term='Jobsearch'/><category term='Love Life'/><category term='Dates'/><category term='Rantings'/><category term='Teddy'/><category term='American Idol'/><category term='Life'/><category term='Flirt'/><category term='Veronica Mars'/><category term='Meme'/><category term='Living'/><category term='Love'/><category term='#1 Crush'/><category term='Bowling'/><category term='Cuties'/><category term='The Ex'/><category term='Movies'/><category term='Recap'/><category term='Blog'/><title type='text'>Bitched, Bothered, Bewildered</title><subtitle type='html'>This blog depicts the other side of a slut. We are humans too, with problems and everyday issues at work, with family, social life, the occasional dates and the search for that special someone...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>161</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-8356924760411822354</id><published>2011-05-24T16:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T16:20:49.724+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Health</title><content type='html'>Health has been an issue lately... so much so that I haven't been to work in a while... which usually is fine with me but I dun want the office to think I am this sick-prone person... sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in addition, now I have kidney stones... sigh... passing em will be hell for sure...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the plus side, I have lost some weight or so it seems... people kept telling me this... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-8356924760411822354?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/8356924760411822354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=8356924760411822354&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8356924760411822354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8356924760411822354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2011/05/health.html' title='Health'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7323656681524113409</id><published>2011-05-02T22:47:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T23:03:20.286+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jobs</title><content type='html'>Have started to get this feeling... that I am in a dead end job... even though I love working there and the job allows me much flexibility... but there is little guarantee I can move up the organization and even littler guarantee I can enter the mothership... I mean, the parent company... not to mention that the salary has been stagnant and the benefits too little and the annual leave is still stuck at 14... this is my fourth year... I think I have to do something... soon...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7323656681524113409?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7323656681524113409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7323656681524113409&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7323656681524113409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7323656681524113409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2011/05/jobs.html' title='Jobs'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3757604968536382769</id><published>2011-04-25T22:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T22:59:38.253+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogs</title><content type='html'>I had been maintaining several blogs, with totally different topics... ya know, to keep it separate so that everything is clear...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had to say goodbye to one of my oldest blogs... I started that blog in 2004... can you imagine? It had survived for almost 7 years... but due to several unfortunate circumstances, it had to go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually had deleted that blog a couple of times... but that was due mostly to stalker issues... this time, it was due to the people around me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It became an entity on its own, bigger presence than me... up to a point where people talk about it more than they talk about me... I mean, come on... it's just a blog... I am more than just words... but some people could not get past it and kept telling other people...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had to put a stop to it... might as well, the blog had run its course and was way off topic after a few years... I am sad that I had to let it go coz it felt like part of me... it was an outlet for me to vent out but I guess I have to vent out in some other way... sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3757604968536382769?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3757604968536382769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3757604968536382769&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3757604968536382769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3757604968536382769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2011/04/blogs.html' title='Blogs'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3932075379290567851</id><published>2011-03-23T10:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T13:38:27.962+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Writer</title><content type='html'>Am officially starting to write for a web magazine that is kinda cult-ish and aimed for our people only... not sure how I feel about them wanting a byline/bio/pic on it... coz... do I want to be associated OPENLY with that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... on one paw, I do like the idea of getting to write and contribute articles... but the sitch in Malaysia... is it really worth it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3932075379290567851?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3932075379290567851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3932075379290567851&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3932075379290567851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3932075379290567851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2011/03/writer.html' title='Writer'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-9073517588446186162</id><published>2010-08-30T21:51:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T21:57:35.535+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The List</title><content type='html'>Found this while rummaging through the hard disk... Apparently, I've saved this list for a reason...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Target for 2005 or before I turn 27 (June 2006)&lt;br /&gt;1. Travel out of the Country&lt;br /&gt;2. Be in a relationship that lasts longer than 3 months&lt;br /&gt;3. Save RM3000&lt;br /&gt;4. Finish writing one script/book&lt;br /&gt;5. Find affordable place&lt;br /&gt;6. Have a nice group of friends&lt;br /&gt;7. Talk to 12 strangers&lt;br /&gt;8. Lose 22 kgs&lt;br /&gt;9. Learn how to swim&lt;br /&gt;10. Bowl a game of 210&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things to do before turning 30 (in June 2008):&lt;br /&gt;1. Travel abroad (Australia, Indonesia, Europe)&lt;br /&gt;2. Finish writing a book/script and/or get published&lt;br /&gt;3. Own an apartment/house&lt;br /&gt;4. Own a car&lt;br /&gt;5. Have threesome with two white guys&lt;br /&gt;6. Be invited to an orgy&lt;br /&gt;7. Have 5000 bucks in savings account&lt;br /&gt;8. Participate in extreme sports (bungee jump, sky-diving etc)&lt;br /&gt;9. Get Lasik done on my eyes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so it's 2010 and I am 32 years old... have I accomplished any of the things I have listed to be achieved by 27 or 30? No. I have achieved some but only recently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I now have a nice group of friends. I do talk to strangers sometimes. I lost close to 22 kgs and I have bowled a game of 211.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have traveled to Singapore. Had the threesome and the orgy, eheheh... that's all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should really shoot for the getting published part of the list...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-9073517588446186162?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/9073517588446186162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=9073517588446186162&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/9073517588446186162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/9073517588446186162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2010/08/list.html' title='The List'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2619761741848289996</id><published>2010-08-02T14:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T14:21:55.022+08:00</updated><title type='text'>She</title><content type='html'>Well, I am back... no longer in the relationship mentioned in the post below. But am now straddling a couple of 'relationships' but not exactly anchoring down anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Job-wise, I have been given the task of a copywriter. Unfortunately, this 'promotion' is not exactly in black and white and of course, no pay increase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am quite happy doing copywriting so I'll ride it out to see what's gonna happen later on...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2619761741848289996?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2619761741848289996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2619761741848289996&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2619761741848289996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2619761741848289996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2010/08/she.html' title='She'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1669199831896811564</id><published>2010-03-26T01:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T02:04:06.967+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Expecting</title><content type='html'>Good God, I've neglected this blog for soooooo long... I've been preoccupied with lotsa other things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, lessee... what's new in my life... still living at the same place, still having the same job, which is slowly becoming the longest job I've ever had... ah, something is indeed new...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in a relationship now... albeit an open one... the other party insisted, of course... and it's a long distance relationship... today's the 26th day... maybe it lasted that long coz of the long distance...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, and this maybe a post on its own but I am not exactly happy with some of the things in the relationship... but I dun wanna open that can of worms yet. I am going to meet up with him soon... yes, I am flying to see my man... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1669199831896811564?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1669199831896811564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1669199831896811564&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1669199831896811564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1669199831896811564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2010/03/expecting.html' title='Expecting'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7175348948069407914</id><published>2010-01-03T01:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T01:13:08.435+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Somnambulist</title><content type='html'>Happy 2010 everyone... hopefully these two days of the new year hasn't sucked yet for anyone... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What have happened in 2009 that was memorable for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, lessee... I stuck it out in one job, even though it was taking its toll on me mentally, physically and emotionally...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did a Britney and shaved my hair off... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in a 'relationship' for less than a week... hehehe... money boy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got 4th place in a national treasure hunt... even though we actually placed 2nd, but coz of penalty, we got bumped down to fourth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Started a food blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got placing in a bowling tournament... not a media tournament, but an actual tournament...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sang in front of strangers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost 15kgs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joined more media events... to get my face and my name out there, especially with production houses... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess that's about it... for 2010... I aim to lose more weight, be more active in the media thing coz I want to write scripts and get them made... more active in bowling and treasure hunting, until I crack the top 3 spots... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and be more healthy and save more this year...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7175348948069407914?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7175348948069407914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7175348948069407914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7175348948069407914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7175348948069407914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2010/01/somnambulist.html' title='Somnambulist'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2701614456374391257</id><published>2009-12-19T12:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T13:01:36.120+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Parting Gifts</title><content type='html'>Got this message from a Londoner... wanting to come here and meet me... too good to be true... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when something's too good to be true, usually it is...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2701614456374391257?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2701614456374391257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2701614456374391257&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2701614456374391257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2701614456374391257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/12/parting-gifts.html' title='Parting Gifts'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1447378037278016906</id><published>2009-12-10T23:27:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T23:32:21.049+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hero</title><content type='html'>So it's over... that'll teach me to dive into a relationship without the dating part... but it worked for some people... apparently I am not one of those people then. Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's for the best... although I liked the package, something was missing and I don't see a future there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to you, we had a good time but that was it. Just a good time. I need more. Sorry...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1447378037278016906?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1447378037278016906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1447378037278016906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1447378037278016906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1447378037278016906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/12/hero.html' title='Hero'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3208009599091773938</id><published>2009-11-17T17:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T18:34:19.017+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Will Remember You</title><content type='html'>Not sure if this is the smartest thing I have ever done... but hey, I have done my fair share of stupidity... so today I found myself in a relationship... yup, you read right...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't do this stuff normally... I'd rather date and find out about the person and such, but in the past, I'd end up alone... so I am trying something new...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He talked me into it. We met once yesterday. Spent the night together. Had sex like 6 times and in the morning, we are boyfriendly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It helps that he is super cute. Good God I think I am shallow...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3208009599091773938?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3208009599091773938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3208009599091773938&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3208009599091773938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3208009599091773938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-will-remember-you.html' title='I Will Remember You'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2683180135487287522</id><published>2009-11-11T23:10:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T23:14:30.196+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bachelor Party</title><content type='html'>I've been dating lately but it's not exactly a date when the guy is taken right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wonder why all these boyfriendly guys (rightfully so coz they have boyfriends) keep asking me out? Messaging me and wants to get to know me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about going out with these people is that you find them quite interesting and nice, but you know you can't have them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the story of my life... sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2683180135487287522?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2683180135487287522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2683180135487287522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2683180135487287522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2683180135487287522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/11/bachelor-party.html' title='The Bachelor Party'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3176342019050586041</id><published>2009-11-06T01:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T01:10:49.716+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sense and Sensitivity</title><content type='html'>Things are mucho loco at the office lately... I think it has to do with contract renewals... suddenly the higher ups are all hyper sensitive to everything and is following the rules like no one's business... just to impress the higher higher ups...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's even accusations of dealing money under the table...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bull la these people... not only do you underpay us, but you work us to the bone... and now you're making life actually miserable in the office... something has to be done...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3176342019050586041?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3176342019050586041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3176342019050586041&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3176342019050586041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3176342019050586041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/11/sense-and-sensitivity.html' title='Sense and Sensitivity'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-5887990764990478446</id><published>2009-10-04T22:53:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T23:07:12.174+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rm w/a Vu</title><content type='html'>Hmm, lessee... work sucks, no pay raise, no bonus, no increase in annual leave, no everything... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love life sucks... I date and I date but nothing seems to work out... most of them are emotionally scarred and did not trust a person at all and seemed to think that while casually dating, one should cut oneself off of from the social scene altogether... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Social life is also on the fritz... sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life at home is also bad... the housemate has failed to pay rent yet again... two months rent already... I keep asking and asking and he kept giving excuses... I might ask him to move out next month, if this persists... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also plan to kill that bitch ex-colleague of mine who still fails to pay even a single cent of my money back... she's living it up while I have to slum it... this bitch and the housemate is making my life miserable... I should kick their faces in...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-5887990764990478446?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/5887990764990478446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=5887990764990478446&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5887990764990478446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5887990764990478446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/10/rm-wa-vu.html' title='Rm w/a Vu'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3204598250403631653</id><published>2009-09-13T00:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T00:43:04.052+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Fall To Pieces</title><content type='html'>Something's just doomed before it started... :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, gotta move on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, suddenly experiencing a lot of backlash from friends...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3204598250403631653?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3204598250403631653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3204598250403631653&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3204598250403631653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3204598250403631653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-fall-to-pieces.html' title='I Fall To Pieces'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-4211718469988087970</id><published>2009-08-20T16:50:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T16:51:16.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In the Dark</title><content type='html'>I think I am falling... but ordinarily when that happens, my heart gets stomped to pieces... no wait, the pieces get stomped to pieces... sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-4211718469988087970?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/4211718469988087970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=4211718469988087970&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4211718469988087970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4211718469988087970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/08/in-dark.html' title='In the Dark'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2371689912189235242</id><published>2009-08-18T23:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T23:32:48.811+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lonely Hearts</title><content type='html'>I have been dating this one guy lately. I like him. He's cute. Definitely my type. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But with my luck, he'll end up with someone else after a while. Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, my housemate's eating every food I have in sight. He says he'll buy em back but I am not so sure... sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2371689912189235242?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2371689912189235242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2371689912189235242&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2371689912189235242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2371689912189235242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/08/lonely-hearts.html' title='Lonely Hearts'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-4096503182533509309</id><published>2009-08-10T12:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T14:07:52.947+08:00</updated><title type='text'>City Of...</title><content type='html'>I got a housemate now. Just to ease the burden of paying the rent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has been living with me for the past week or so. And now I am seeing a pattern. He is kinda taking advantage of the fact that I like to have a fully stocked fridge and pantry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to talk to him tonite and lay down the ground rules. The last time I had housemates, and I let that one housemate walk all over me... I was miserable... not again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-4096503182533509309?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/4096503182533509309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=4096503182533509309&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4096503182533509309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4096503182533509309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/08/city-of.html' title='City Of...'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-4959172014851176056</id><published>2009-07-11T17:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T19:15:48.742+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chosen</title><content type='html'>Hmm, kinda appropriate that the title of this post is the title of the final episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My part time stint during the weekends is coming to an end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am deeply saddened coz I love doing it. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The silver lining? I now have my weekends free to pursue whatever it is that I wanna pursue. Or go back to my hometown and be with family...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cloud? Money won't be enough to do anything... :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-4959172014851176056?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/4959172014851176056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=4959172014851176056&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4959172014851176056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4959172014851176056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/07/chosen.html' title='Chosen'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7632194059988345471</id><published>2009-06-30T22:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T22:54:05.574+08:00</updated><title type='text'>End of Days</title><content type='html'>I realize that I've left out some friends in the celebration of my birthday. I promise I'll make it up to them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the longest I've ever celebrated a birthday. Almost every day during the whole week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nice to feel appreciated and I've gotten some nice presents too. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the people who I anticipated would not remember my birthday... remembered...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And starting tomorrow, I am attempting a slight change...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7632194059988345471?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7632194059988345471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7632194059988345471&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7632194059988345471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7632194059988345471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/06/end-of-days.html' title='End of Days'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2608830454068049885</id><published>2009-05-06T22:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T22:58:23.594+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Touched</title><content type='html'>I am jealous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of a colleague.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is constantly surrounded by guys. Some of them are hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I am not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I am not that sociable. But even if I wanted to, I am kinda awkward with guys, especially guys I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Slowly but surely, the guys talk to me but I think that's mostly coz the colleague is always hanging around me... oh well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2608830454068049885?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2608830454068049885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2608830454068049885&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2608830454068049885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2608830454068049885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/05/touched.html' title='Touched'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-5682172708562184442</id><published>2009-04-30T21:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T22:10:41.981+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Empty Places</title><content type='html'>Got a few days off. Took off to hometown to see family. Yup, all on my own accord. They were shocked to see me back. Everything was okay back home. Mom was not overwhelming. The food was great. I am fatter now... hehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I cut the time off back home short because we planned a party and I was kinda roped in as one of the organizers. And I was supposed to go to Penang for assignment. So I left what was probably a very good visit with the family to come back to KL, only to find out that both had been canceled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All kinds of cuss words escape my lips. This will not happen again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-5682172708562184442?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/5682172708562184442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=5682172708562184442&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5682172708562184442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5682172708562184442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/04/empty-places.html' title='Empty Places'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2374809518137468880</id><published>2009-04-21T15:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T16:27:21.089+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Girls</title><content type='html'>Am resisting the urge to go to the Book Fair... need to be strong... need to wean myself off of that feeling... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked me today if I was going... I said no... even though I wanted to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's the right thing to do... getting my heart used to the absence... sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2374809518137468880?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2374809518137468880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2374809518137468880&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2374809518137468880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2374809518137468880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/04/dirty-girls.html' title='Dirty Girls'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7695953221290327147</id><published>2009-04-13T23:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T23:52:45.143+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lies My Parents Told Me</title><content type='html'>It's time for a change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started to cut myself off of bad elements that's plagued me before, like evil exes, hehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also taken up more responsibility at work so I am married to work now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess that's good since my financials are a bit of a mess at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there would be no more outings for me... scratch fun off of my vernacular... unless I steal a bit of time from work and go out for a little bit... sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky I love my job so much...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7695953221290327147?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7695953221290327147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7695953221290327147&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7695953221290327147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7695953221290327147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/04/lies-my-parents-told-me.html' title='Lies My Parents Told Me'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7786029497062183769</id><published>2009-04-02T13:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T13:45:13.605+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Storyteller</title><content type='html'>Hot off the press!! I've known this for quite some time and I've experienced it to some extent. But now, I think it's gone too far. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People in the office love to talk about my sexuality. To other people. In my presence, luckily. Not that I could do anything about it. They'd blurt it out a lot. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I was in a meeting with the big boss and somehow they were talking about gays and roped me in. They talked about my sexuality and the fact that I am still manly even thought I love men. In front of my boss!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to not look him in the eye coz he was looking straight at me. Did not know what else to do. Luckily for me, he recovered after one minute and continued on with the meeting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope this won't affect me in any way.... sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7786029497062183769?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7786029497062183769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7786029497062183769&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7786029497062183769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7786029497062183769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/04/storyteller.html' title='Storyteller'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-8151350427115686706</id><published>2009-03-31T20:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T20:22:27.897+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Get It Done</title><content type='html'>The date sucked. Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's April tomorrow. Last year, April was such a good time for me. Specifically, 10 days of April. The Kuala Lumpur International Book Fair. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was posted there to man the company booth. Guess who else was there? Yup. Him. Gosh, I haven't blogged about him for the longest time. #1 Crush. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was there for 10 days as well. We were kinda inseparable. Lunches together. Sometimes dinner. The occasional bowling or karaoke. He even cooked dinner at my place one night. He finished his shift early so he'd wait at my booth until I was done. Altogether now... awwww, so sweet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is he a good cook? Sure. But he has a tendency to overuse the turmeric thus turning my kitchenware yellow. Took me months to get that stain out. Hehhehe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a great time and I missed those days when we were quite close. Nowadays, I am lucky if I get a YM message once a month... sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so we were chatting in one of those rare moments that we chatted... and he asked if I was manning the booth at the Book Fair again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am touched that he remembered. Unfortunately, things happened and I am no longer involved in events, so I won't be working at PWTC this time around. I told him that and I also mentioned that I missed hanging out with him like last time (it's been almost six months now... last I was with him was watching Wall-E...) and that I had a good time during the Book Fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember having a fit when a friend of mine expressed interest in going to the book fair to see him and hoping that he'd get some action from #1 Crush. #1 Crush showed me the message and told me that he doesn't know who it was. I was quite hysterical and I blurted out, in front of #1 Crush, that #1 Crush was mine and that the friend had no right doing what he's doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't recall what his reaction was coz I wasn't looking at him. Fuming mad. He just said that he did not plan to meet the guy and he was not going to reply to the message. I thought I went over the line but #1 Crush did not stop seeing me afterwards so I guess it was alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I told #1 Crush that it was too bad I am not working the Book Fair and that we could have hung out. He pffft my statement and said that we could still hang out coz my office is near PWTC anyway. Yes, I could not stop smiling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I know how these things goes. I'd be all hyper and happy but it would end up horribly as in he'd be too busy for me or he'd simply forget. I am prepared for anything. I haven't seen him in 6 months, why should it be any different now right? Well, now he's so near to me... sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-8151350427115686706?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/8151350427115686706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=8151350427115686706&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8151350427115686706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8151350427115686706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/03/get-it-done.html' title='Get It Done'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3191608035640594975</id><published>2009-03-27T00:07:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T00:16:14.827+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Date</title><content type='html'>It's been quite some time since I had a day off. Almost two weeks of non-stop working. This week is the UMNO General Assembly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I stayed in the office until 1am. Today also. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no, there's no overtime. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My love life is also on the fritz since I am working all the time. Who am I kidding, I have no love life. Sex life still okay though. Hehhee... Ain't short of booty calls but booty calls always come when I am working. Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's one date coming up on Saturday, which is my official first day off and I have to get up early coz it's a breakfast date. Sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3191608035640594975?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3191608035640594975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3191608035640594975&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3191608035640594975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3191608035640594975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/03/first-date.html' title='First Date'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-4051053187145490903</id><published>2009-03-12T00:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T00:10:57.272+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Killer In Me</title><content type='html'>Office sitch is pretty much like a war zone these days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bunch of colleagues came up with the idea of doing a petition against one of the higher ups in the office. Almost everybody was complaining that this person has not been good for the working environment and morale. He doesn't really do his job but he kept sticking his nose in other people's business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They all had enough. So the petition was brought forth. But there are some people who dun wanna rock the boat or just wanna play safe and refuse to sign the petition. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mind you, these are the same people who kept complaining about how that person was bad and not communicate and making things harder yadda yadda yadda...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I did not wanna get involved as well coz it's not my war and not my department but I took a look at the petition and added one point and signed the petition. I do work with that person during my weekend shifts and I pointed out how he has not been helping...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;War...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-4051053187145490903?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/4051053187145490903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=4051053187145490903&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4051053187145490903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4051053187145490903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/03/killer-in-me.html' title='The Killer In Me'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-6357748954285699054</id><published>2009-03-05T22:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T23:10:08.344+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Potential</title><content type='html'>I dunno what's going on but my sexuality is a big deal in the office these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like they're proud of it or something. They talk about the guys that I like and some of them even went as far as telling the guys that I like them or asking for their numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds good on paper but most of the time, it's far more embarassing. Plus, I am a big gurl, I can flirt on my own. If it's a subtle attempt, I don't mind but this is a bit much. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They talk about it openly. I am open, sure, but to certain people only. The newbies or people I don't know... have to earn my trust and respect before I would open up about myself...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-6357748954285699054?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/6357748954285699054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=6357748954285699054&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6357748954285699054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6357748954285699054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/03/potential.html' title='Potential'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7933772102061614394</id><published>2009-02-26T18:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T18:09:42.145+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Showtime</title><content type='html'>Finally! I am free! Of family and familial obligations and responsibilities!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I really want to be free of them but they've been in and around my life non-stop for almost three weeks now. A gurl needs some private time too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My uncle was admitted to ICU for a thyroid thingy so my family came to KL. Understandable. Since my aunt's moved to Kuantan, there's no other possible place for them to stay so I volunteer my place. My mom was soooooooooooooo happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they left (coz the kids have school), my sister stayed behind because my brother's ex would be staying behind as well. Since she's a girl, she can't stay with me alone. Sister to the rescue. But then sister brought her boyfriend along. Good God. Straight sex in my house!!! I have to burn the sheets and faggify my place back by having lotsa anal sex... hehehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my uncle took a turn for the worse so my Dad came back to KL, followed by the rest of them... say goodbye to my freedom...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the good thing about my family being there was that they'd clean up my place. But you'd think that I'd be having lotsa home cooked meal right? Noooooooo, my sister's too busy fucking the 25 year old and dating to care about feeding the brother... sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today, she's finally left!!! Yay!!! Freedom!!! Freedom!!! Freeeeeeyyydhooommm!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7933772102061614394?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7933772102061614394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7933772102061614394&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7933772102061614394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7933772102061614394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/02/showtime.html' title='Showtime'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1060422743781760653</id><published>2009-02-18T14:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T14:50:11.330+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring On The Night</title><content type='html'>My house is not mine anymore. Since last weekend, my entire family plus my brother's Filipino ex-girlfriend who works in Ireland stayed at my tiny flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ex-girlfriend's flight back is on the 24th I think, so she has a few days to kill and she's staying at my place. But she can't be alone in the house with me. Tangkap basah la plak kang. So my sister stays too. The rest of the family went back to Kuantan. But then my sister brought one of her boyfriends to my place. Sigh. Yup, you read right. One of. Small wonder why I am a slut eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, her boyfriend has a big cock!! How do I know? My sister told. Also, there was one morning before I went to work... he was sleeping in the other room and I wanted to grab my bag to go and I noticed him having a morning woody. Dayyymnnn... of course, I whipped out my phone and snapped a photo. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not quite used to living with people. Sometimes I just don't know what to do. I can't be online all willy nilly coz they might just walk behind me and see that I am on Manjam or something. It feels like I am being driven out of house and home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the good thing about having my family here is that my place has never been cleaner. Yay! But I can't get laid though... meanwhile, my sister is getting all kinds of action from monster cock, I mean, her bf... sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1060422743781760653?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1060422743781760653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1060422743781760653&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1060422743781760653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1060422743781760653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/02/bring-on-night.html' title='Bring On The Night'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7495045841875089889</id><published>2009-02-13T18:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T18:14:30.540+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Leave Me</title><content type='html'>The entire family's coming to KL this weekend. My uncle has been hospitalized so they're coming to visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am torn. Part of me is glad that I get to see them. Another part of me is screaming and running away because my privacy will be completely gone and I know I can't avoid them. The other part of me is anxious to get home and 'straighten' the place up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord knows what's been lying around. A stray gay DVD? Condom wrappers? Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, there's a new practical girl at the office and she's all green and doesn't know much. I am soooo Cher from Clueless. I am determined to culturized the girl and make her familiar with stuff like Nancy Drew, Subway, Chili's etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sorry for her a bit coz she's not exposed to this stuff. I also do this with the niece and the nephew so that when they grow up and go to study in the city or overseas or wherever, they won't be deers caught in headlights...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7495045841875089889?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7495045841875089889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7495045841875089889&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7495045841875089889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7495045841875089889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/02/never-leave-me.html' title='Never Leave Me'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-4660630246215664542</id><published>2009-02-10T15:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T15:39:22.177+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleeper</title><content type='html'>I am harder on girls than I am on guys. Yesterday was an off day for me. Finally got a chance to just not work... so I lazed around (after going on a date, ehehehehe) and suddenly I flashed back to a few years ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my first job in KL... I used to have this one girl friend, we were kinda inseparable at first but as trainees, you're sent wherever they see fit so she was at the subsidiary while I stayed at the parent company. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we still see a lot of each other. I find her quirky and crazy, in an annoying sort of way. We hung out together but then again, all of the trainees hung out together. After she was sent away, I realized how annoying she really was but I could tolerate that for a short period of time when we hung out. For dinner mostly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she quit her job coz of a better offer. We still hung out but I guess it's a lot better now that she's far away. But then, something happened and we got into this huge fight and I've never forgiven her ever since. She tried calling me a few times and asking me out but I'd avoid her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going further back, I also had a best girl friend while doing my A Levels in Shah Alam. Hmm, I don't really have many straight guy friends apparently...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we were also best friends and she was also a bit annoying and there was a time when we had this huge falling out and we've not spoken ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't or can't forgive them or get past the argument or whatever it was they've done. But I let guy friends walk all over me... maybe I should start treating them like they're annoying little girls... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of annoying little girls, I can't recall being friends with any girl for a long period of time. Now that I really think about it, I don't stay in touch with anyone from a previous engagement (work, college, school)... I move on and make new friends...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;High school was a conscience decision on my part to sever ties. I don't want to remain in touch with any of them because we're from two different universes. I don't think they'd be understanding to my lifestyle here in KL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, now that I realize this, I am gonna work harder to remain in touch with people from old offices etc... but only the cool ones... hehehe...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-4660630246215664542?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/4660630246215664542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=4660630246215664542&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4660630246215664542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4660630246215664542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/02/sleeper.html' title='Sleeper'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-6579852658102866770</id><published>2009-02-07T20:25:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T22:52:23.089+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversations with Dead People</title><content type='html'>Things are unravelling... there's this guy who I am friends with but I don't think he's really a friend. He keeps me close to him but all he really wanna do is control me. I don't get it. He is in no way, shape or form interested in me because he is straight but he keeps trying to assert himself onto me. Not in the good sexual way either. Not that I want him to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He keeps tabs on me too. Calls me up every Friday to see where I was. But I am guessing that was more because he wanted to come with me on food quests. He admitted that he had little experience in the foodie department and I always bring him to exotic locations like... Sushi King... Also, he benefitted from my indifference towards alcohol consumption. Guess others frown upon it but I could not care less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, there's the competitiveness. We're both on facebook and he gets his jollies from beating me. At everything. All the games I play, he wanna play. All the games that he plays, he invites me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am all for winning but at facebook? I just wanna have fun and unleash the inner child. Yeah, like I ever kept him hidden...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, lately I have been obsessing over Pet Society. He's been playing a lot longer than I have so it's understandable that he has more points than me. There was a point where he went on vacation for two weeks and I shot past him. When he returns to work, he could not believe it and attempted to beat me, which he has done already. It's just a game to me. I like buying things for my pet's house and by going up a level, I get coins to buy more things. Plus there's the mystery box where you purchase and dunno what you'll get. Yes, I like the gambling part of the game. But when you come right down to it, it's still a game and I am not looking for my tombstone to read, "here lies Evan, he kicked ass at Pet Society" or any other games. I play for the fun factor, even if it's a tournament like bowling. I enter for the experience. It'll be nice to win but I have a long ways to go before I win any tourney. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Letting off steam is why I play. Any games. I don't want to be a stick in the mud and let worrying about games ruin my fun time. I work like a dog and when I unwind, I want fun. I wanna go to karaoke and sing coz I like to sing and I dun need tips on how to sing a song of my choosing. For someone who's full of ideas on what others need to do, he sure doesn't do any of his own suggestions. Apparently he thinks he's better than others and keep telling people how to sing... wait, that's the annoying guy from the previous post... how did he get into this train of thought???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um... oh, yeah... don't get me started on him trying to control my life. Sort of. He want to know what's up in my life and then he judges and decides what I do was good or bad or whatever. My decision to stay in touch with a certain someone sent him into a gossiping spiral. When I say I have a date, he scoffs. When he sees me chat, he'd say something like "Chatting? Why are you doing that? Want another stalker and have to change phone numbers again?"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't he just leave me alone? I heard from one of the girls that he has dated a girl friend of hers so he's not into me like that but he is acting like I am his a bit eh? I mean, straight guy friends just don't do that yes? Or am I wrong?... Wish he'd just realize that it's my life to live and I'll live it in any way, shape or form of myh choosing. People's expectations? I don't give a crap. Why should I be doing something that someone else thinks I should be doing? I don't even listen to my mother... much... I do sometimes coz she's me mom...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. looks like there's two on the list of people I oughta slow-talk to...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-6579852658102866770?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/6579852658102866770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=6579852658102866770&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6579852658102866770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6579852658102866770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/02/conversations-with-dead-people.html' title='Conversations with Dead People'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-4869966751306821824</id><published>2009-01-31T18:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T20:23:40.899+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Him</title><content type='html'>I have an annoying friend. Well, not really a friend. More like an acquaintance. I don't really know him that well and he doesn't know me that well either but he seems to think that we're good friends. *shrugs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to know each other because of circumstances. I don't think we'd even talk, if we met in other situations. But since the both of us are thrust into the situation, I kinda have to acknowledge his existence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's one of those attention-seeking people that would wilt and die if the spotlight isn't on him. When he arrives, he'd make a lot of noise so that you'd know he's coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we are talking about something, he'd manage to eavesdrop and then relate the story to his experience. Anything, you name it, it's happened to him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he always hogs our free time telling us all about his marital problems. There seems to be new problem showing up at least once every couple of days. Unfortunately, he never wanted to listen to us. Our problems are not significant enough. I think he doesn't care at all about us. We're just there as a platform for him to complain and bitch about his life and partner. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Annoying as hell. Other than telling him straight up that he's effing annoying, what else is there to do? I am going the same route that a lot of colleagues are taking. Pretend he's not there... I mean, do not engage unless he starts to speak to you first...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-4869966751306821824?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/4869966751306821824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=4869966751306821824&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4869966751306821824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4869966751306821824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/01/him.html' title='Him'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3392184138254627165</id><published>2009-01-21T12:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T12:47:56.674+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Selfless</title><content type='html'>I am not sure the way to go about getting a boyfriend. Does it really involve being cruel and evil? Do I really need to just take what I want? “Want, take, have”? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it really that simple? Crush anyone in your way to get what you want? Even if it means driving a wedge between two committed people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would require quite a lot of nerve, self confidence and will of steel. Don’t think I have that in me… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have tried dating others after #1 Crush. I am not willing to go to the extent of actually breaking them up. Even if I wanted to, #1 Crush would have to reciprocate and I really don’t think he thinks of me that way. Even though some of his actions speak louder than words but I won’t bet the farm on that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in the attempt to move on… at first I was hesitant. Did not want to. But I realize it was foolish to stand still when the whole world was moving ahead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one has come close though. Made sense since I would put #1 Crush high on a pedestal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after realizing that, I put caution to the wind. I found one guy who I could connect with, who’s slightly older than me and quite independent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were together for a while. Even though we haven’t declared it, we were couple-like already. We went to work together, we ate together, we played video games together, basically were living together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as Nelly Furtado famously sang, all good things come to an end. He told me, one fine night, that he has found someone. He even brought that someone to meet me. Apparently, he never thought of me as anything other than a friend. I was floored. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This lends weight to my theory that I am a pit stop where people just stop by to fix themselves. Once they’re fine, they’d leave and choose someone else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week into the new relationship, he started complaining to me about the shortcomings of his new partner. Of course secretly I rejoiced. It was like Ms Karma had done her job well. I was avenged. But the dope that I was, I felt sorry for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while, we started hanging out again, when the new partner was not around. I missed the good old days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, just before the end of last year, he officially broke it off and seemingly headed my way. I knew nothing was gonna happen. But we hung out quite often and I lowered my guard down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he came back with a one-two punch. He found someone else. Someone who’s currently in a relationship but unhappy. Oh, the drama…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put this question forth. Anybody with an answer please lemme know…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that people are always looking for drama in their lives? There’s a nice, safe choice right in front of you and you ignore him and you’re willing to grab onto someone else who you know won’t be easy and will end up bringing heartache and drama to your life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him once why he did not want me and why he chose the other one. He said he did not see himself being loyal to me. I suspect I know why, but let’s not linger on technicality. I asked why he chose the other one and he had no clear answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked if he was happy with the new guy (before he dumped him) and he said he wasn’t. It was problematic and they kept arguing. I asked was I ever problematic and he said that life with me was nice, no arguing and it was fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So again, the question remains… why is it that people are willing to risk their hearts and feelings over a volatile relationship when there is a relationship that you know would gel well and should last a whole lot longer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does drama really add spice to the relationship? If there’s no problems in the relationship, does it mean that the relationship is stagnant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pit Stop signing off…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3392184138254627165?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3392184138254627165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3392184138254627165&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3392184138254627165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3392184138254627165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/01/selfless.html' title='Selfless'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7567578773397464706</id><published>2009-01-14T18:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T18:38:55.143+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Help</title><content type='html'>I have a problem. By the way, the titles of my posts come from a tv show. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It's chronological. More often that not, most of the titles actually correspond to the theme of the post. Swear to God I did not look at the title and decide what to write. I decide what to write and then look at the title. Does this mean my life is like a TV show? Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the problem. I can't stand it when people don't talk to me or are upset with me. Yes, yes, I am so Monica. There's this colleague at work who's not speaking to me. Well, I only find out today because I only saw her today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ordinarily, she'd shout out my name or the nickname she calls me whenever I came into view. But today, she completely ignored me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started when she asked for my help with her spankin new Ipod. I was working the weekend shift so she came in to the office and brought CDs and stuff. She even wanted me to download songs from the Internet to upload into her Ipod. I did not have all day. Plus my shift was not over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she insisted I help her there and then. She did not care that I was still on the clock. Grrr! When my shift was truly over, I went to help her. She did not know squat about Ipods. So I had to teach her over and over and over again. She still couldn't get it though. Patience, wearing thin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was supposed to go to Times Square for bowling and my colleague wanted to leave for Times Square soon. I wanted to hitch a ride with her but the other Ipod-challenged colleague wanted to download off of the Internet. That takes time. So I told her hasta la vista but not before telling her again about how to upload songs into the damn Ipod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I was off but I heard her mumbling about me abandoning her. I so did not care coz I did not wanna be stuck for hours waiting for Internet downloads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt bad but I remembered how she always tried to get me to do her work for her. Her actual paid work so I stuck to my guns and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw her today in the office and no peep came out of her. And that made me squirm. I also can't really say no to people... yes, it's a big problem... have to find a way to get over this...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7567578773397464706?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7567578773397464706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7567578773397464706&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7567578773397464706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7567578773397464706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/01/help.html' title='Help'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-503478466932266812</id><published>2009-01-08T15:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T15:54:19.287+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Same Time, Same Place</title><content type='html'>I'm taking on a lot more responsibility at work now. Not that I really want to. My team has been cut down to, well, just me now, so I have to step up so that backlogs won't exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I get a raise for this. Or some sort of allowance. Hey, a guy can dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of dreams, a lot of people have been commenting that I have lost weight. I don't think so coz I am still as fat as ever. But I've been able to fit into pants that would never fit before and photos of me do indicate that I am slightly leaner than before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm... maybe I should work out so that I turn into this stocky guy...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-503478466932266812?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/503478466932266812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=503478466932266812&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/503478466932266812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/503478466932266812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/01/same-time-same-place.html' title='Same Time, Same Place'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2935718777747297857</id><published>2009-01-06T00:18:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T01:03:42.909+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beneath You</title><content type='html'>I have it in mind to have a list of somethings to achieve this year, even though I don't think I achieved any resolutions last year. Wait, I did get a 211 in bowling. My resolution was to achieve 210. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, resolutions are hard to achieve especially since I am too lazy to do much about it most of the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bowling. Gotta get 230 this year. And enter more competitions this year. And get a placing and win something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work on my website skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Write more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be a little more selfish and a lot less selfless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look into getting my own place, instead of renting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will try to be with family more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relationship? Nah. I give up. I guess this is my place in the world. Perpetual best friend. Pit stop where brokenhearted guys go to for repairs and move on to the next relationship. Maybe I should charge eh? :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2935718777747297857?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2935718777747297857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2935718777747297857&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2935718777747297857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2935718777747297857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2009/01/beneath-you.html' title='Beneath You'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-5376867100147159997</id><published>2008-12-31T17:27:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T17:57:52.906+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons</title><content type='html'>2008 has been quite the interesting experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started work at a new office. Granted that I started in December, but still new in the new year. Left the old office and colleagues for something new. I did not even know if I could do it, or if I could be accepted... or if I could accept the new colleagues...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out I can do it, I was accepted and I can accept my new colleagues. Some of them are close to me now. Perks of being in media? The free food. Heheheh. Also, found a lot of them likes to enjoy themselves, going out for food or bowling or movies or karaoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, got to write/edit/produce again, just as I did when I was a student, working on the campus newspaper. I am loving it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family-wise, things are getting better with my mom. It's not any worse either. Let's just leave it at that. My dad's jumped on my mom's bandwagon but he doesn't make as much noise as my mom so I can deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love life? Non-existent. Did attempt to forge something in 2008. Both attempts failed miserably. But I wouldn't trade that experience for anything in this world. Also kinda found out that I am not boyfriend material. I think it has something to do with me being such a nice guy. Nice guys are the ones you complain to about your bad-ass boyfriend. That is exactly what's been happening to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I think it's a good thing coz I get to spend the good times with them and then they go back to whatever existence they had with the lover. Unfortunately, it gets lonely sometimes and I latch on to the wrong people for companionship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. We'll see what this new year will bring. Or maybe this is my role in this world. The perpetual best friend. The one you turn to for comfort when your relationship sours but never the one you want. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just have to ride this wave out. It's quite fun being on top of the wave overlooking everything. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, almost forgot to mention that I have gained some confidence this year. Thanks to the quiet reassurance of my friends. Yes, yes, I am quite pathetic and have no self confidence and enjoy being a wallflower. Still don't but now I don't give a rat's ass. Or try not to give a rat's ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-5376867100147159997?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/5376867100147159997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=5376867100147159997&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5376867100147159997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5376867100147159997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/12/lessons.html' title='Lessons'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-5263438094585801343</id><published>2008-12-17T22:58:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T23:42:48.990+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grave</title><content type='html'>There's a seminar thingy this weekend that I have been recruited to help out. At first, I was told I'd only be providing the copy for the brochure and/or printed materials. But I found myself helping out in ways that I was not supposed to. I am helping out to help my new boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are not properly planned and everything seems to be busted at the seams. I am quite worried about it. A colleague was put in charge and he is inept. I tried to help in any way that I can but that damned colleague is slowing everything down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid shit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is so drunk with power. Ordinarily, he'd be the punching bag but now that he's been given the responsibility to lead, he took it as a chance to bully others. Especially the three part-time girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ain't manager material. He's a good worker but he can't lead. Has no vision for the future and no contingencies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everything will fall into place. I've done everything I could to help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of seminars, I've been working non-stop for almost 3 weeks now. 7-day work weeks. I am so tired. It's like a cycle. It's been a while since I do 7-day work weeks. Apparently, I am needed but I am not really needed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But coz the project manager is so inept, me and this other guy had to step up and help. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will take a long leave after the seminar is over. By the way, the first week of December marked my one year with the company. I am so proud. I never thought I'd last that long. Mostly coz of the crazy psycho bitch of a boss. Now that she's gone, everything's getting good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I've been changing companies many times this past few years. Never been in a company more than 6 months... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-5263438094585801343?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/5263438094585801343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=5263438094585801343&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5263438094585801343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5263438094585801343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/12/grave.html' title='Grave'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3376237104873646611</id><published>2008-11-27T16:44:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T17:03:25.703+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two To Go</title><content type='html'>Things at work are looking up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My evil boss is being shipped off somewhere else. My difficult colleague's also getting the boot. Or something close to the boot. I hope it's the boot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dun mind the constantly not coming in and the constantly coming in late and leaving early. But I do mind when he doesn't do his job. Coz then my job would be on the line too. Lucky for me the bosses all know this fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully the new guy will be more cooperative and full of ideas and not lazy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3376237104873646611?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3376237104873646611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3376237104873646611&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3376237104873646611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3376237104873646611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/11/two-to-go.html' title='Two To Go'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-9093739457264268266</id><published>2008-11-21T15:22:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T15:50:34.337+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Villains</title><content type='html'>Was with the family from Sunday to Monday night. Twas okay I guess. My mom did not nag me and spent quality time with my siblings and niece and nephew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to the movies with them for Madagascar 2. Did not really like it. Come to think of it, the first one hardly impressed me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the next day, went to the mall with the kids and watched High School Musical 3. The niece wanted to see it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother told me my father was saying that he felt left out coz I never talk to him. Sigh. Not only to I have to contend with my mother, now I have my father to deal with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's always been the hands-off dad. Never asking, never anything. Both my sister and brother laugh it off but I feel a bit guilty. I do know I haven't spend any time with my dad but it's not like he's that accessible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Anyways, I had my colleagues over at my mom's restaurant and he joined us for lunch. I introduced everyone and told him their jobs. His response? "She's a DJ? At what radio?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I told him she's a DJ at my radio, he was blank-faced. Like he had no idea I had been working there for almost a year. Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, now I am back in KL and away from the family drama. Not that I wanna be away that much but I can deal with them one drama at a time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-9093739457264268266?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/9093739457264268266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=9093739457264268266&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/9093739457264268266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/9093739457264268266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/11/villains.html' title='Villains'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-6459308637553733889</id><published>2008-11-12T15:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T15:23:34.697+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Seeing Red</title><content type='html'>I am going out of town this weekend. Yup, the workaholic's finally threw the towel in and decided to have fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going on a treasure that would take me to Awana Kijal in Terengganu. I had someone cover my weekend shifts, although it was a hard decision to make since I am basically giving up money but what the hell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Originally, I wanted to bring my colleagues to my mom's restaurant for lunch on Sunday and then head back to KL. So I thought I oughta take Monday off to stay back with my family while the rest of them go back to KL. I won't be able to go back for Raya Haji anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called my family and they said my nephew was hospitalized coz there's a virus in his blood. So it was quite the coincidence that I wanted to go home then. Hmm, fate? *shrugs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Virus in the blood... freaky to think about... I had planned to take them out for Madagascar 2 but since one of em is hospitalized, I guess I'll be spending my time back home in the hospital...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-6459308637553733889?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/6459308637553733889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=6459308637553733889&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6459308637553733889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6459308637553733889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/11/seeing-red.html' title='Seeing Red'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-8905097513075631797</id><published>2008-10-21T19:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T20:37:27.290+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Entropy</title><content type='html'>It was my mom's birthday on Monday (20th). I remembered. Am not that bad a son. After I was done with my daily work load, I gave her a call. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She asked why I was not at my hometown celebrating her birthday. Um, hello? Working...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she asked if I would go back to attend a cousin's wedding, on Deepavali. Which is a public holiday. But I am working that Sunday. If I were to go back, I'd have to take the night bus and arrive on Deepavali morning. Then rush back to KL later that afternoon or evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ain't doing that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I told her I was working, she snapped back. "You go ahead and do that. Work, work and work. That's all you do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held back from saying anything. Of course I was pissed. Not like she doesn't know I have a lot of bills to pay. Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought things are getting better between me and her...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-8905097513075631797?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/8905097513075631797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=8905097513075631797&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8905097513075631797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8905097513075631797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/10/entropy.html' title='Entropy'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3754958090676284927</id><published>2008-10-09T15:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T15:54:50.262+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Normal Again</title><content type='html'>I knew it. The whole marriage thing came up again. It’s like there’s nothing else to talk about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The icing on the ‘cake’ was that this time, my brother was the one who was asking. Right in front of my mom. My mom then hopped on that bandwagon and I was attacked from two sides. Luckily, I hail from a long line of Malay warriors so I dodged my mom’s swipe and I was able to kick my brother in the gonads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother was asking me when I was planning to marry and then boldly declaring he’d never marry until I get married. So my mom joined in and asked me when.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Told them I’d be financially stable in five years time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom balked at that statement. In five years time, I’d be 3… 25… 28… okay, okay, 35. So, if I ever were to have kids, I’d rot first or die first before my kids would graduate high school. Then she went on and on about something or rather and I just lost it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told both of them off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother did not really care about the whole marriage thing coz he is a commitment-phobe ass. I asked him back whether he was just using me to avoid getting married and he cracked. Right in front of my mother. Hah! Take that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I whirled on my mother. Telling her off. In the nicest way possible of course. She knows about my financials, that I have little or virtually no savings and that I dun have property of any kind yet and I am still knee deep in debt from both credit cards and student loans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah! Take that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, she too hail from a long line of warrior people, so she tried to get in a sideswipe attack and told me I oughta find me a rich lady to marry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That does it! No more kid gloves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years back, before I got a job in KL and just after I came back from America, one woman came to see my mom asking for me, wanting me for her daughter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This daughter was a few years older than me but she was rich like hell. Has shoplots in Kuantan, and some properties in KL. Lives in a bungalow alone and has a couple of expensive rides. She’s practically an empire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom turned her down because she was older. WTF right? Now she’s saying I should fine an older woman. That lady was practically begging my mom to let us marry. I suspect she’s a big lesbo, that is why she’s not married yet, which would then be very good for both me and her since we could still have our own partners but will be wedded to satisfy our families and society. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now my mom says she will try to find me a rich woman to marry. Yeah, good luck with that. There’s the whole ‘I am allergic to womanly parts’ thing that she dunno about…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is there pressure to get married and spawn offsprings? It’s not like those kids are gonna take care of us when we get older. I don’t believe those kids will take care of the parents. Times a’changin’. Sigh…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3754958090676284927?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3754958090676284927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3754958090676284927&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3754958090676284927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3754958090676284927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/10/normal-again.html' title='Normal Again'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1148774470153705455</id><published>2008-09-26T20:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T20:30:41.289+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hell's Bells</title><content type='html'>Last year, I stayed in KL for Raya because my family went to three separate places for Raya. Rather than choosing a side, I chose me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, the whole family will be at my grandma’s in Kuala Lipis, so I will join them there as well. Got the whole week off but I would only travel Tuesday afternoon. Yes, I am not really keen on going back home to see the whole family. My own family I can deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may sound insensitive or something but it’s really boring over there. No DVD, no internet, no privacy. Sharing two bathrooms between 40 people is not something I really wanna do. The sleeping arrangement’s bad also. We are all strewn about the living room, sleeping on the floor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing kinda good about that is that all the boys sleep that way. And some of my cousins are kinda hot. Hheheheh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna arrive right before the eve of the festivities and then leave fairly quickly. There’s nothing and no one to do there. I don’t have the patience to go fishing. I might be into going hunting though. Yup, my uncle goes hunting and has a semi-automatic rifle. I’ve used the gun before and I proved to be the most adept amongst the guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, come to think of I was also adept at fishing… well, what passes as fishing anyways… my brother and father are the fishing enthusiasts. But I caught a fish that was apparently huge and a big deal. My brother said that he had been fishing for five years and had yet to catch one and I caught a huge one on my first time out. Beginner’s luck methinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I was so bored there that I sometimes volunteer to go into the kitchen and help out. Okay, okay, I love cooking but none of them needs to know that. Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri, Maaf Zahir Batin to everyone! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1148774470153705455?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1148774470153705455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1148774470153705455&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1148774470153705455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1148774470153705455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/09/hells-bells.html' title='Hell&apos;s Bells'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3544272655769889728</id><published>2008-09-16T13:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T15:08:31.998+08:00</updated><title type='text'>As You Were</title><content type='html'>Told you guys I went back to see mi familia during the merdeka weekend right? Took the kids out for a movie and a bit of shopping for Raya clothes. Yes, yes, I haven’t been back in a while and I am making it up with the shopping spree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I booked the movie in advanced from KL. Wow, the wonders of the Internet eh? I even got to cut cue and went straight to the reservation window. My niece thought I was cheating and I got some nasty looks from the patrons but I was in the right. Apparently people in Kuantan don’t use the Internet to book movie tickets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of my niece, she’s all grown up. At 12. I did not know this but she’s had her period already! Daymn. I can see physical changes like her boobs are getting bigger but I did not know about the period thing and that she has arm pit hair! I was helping her into a nice dress that I thought would look good on her for Raya and I asked her to raise her arms. She did not want to coz she told me she has hair there. Shocker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, yes, I haven’t been back to visit for the longest time. I think I haven’t visited once this year. I missed a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regarding that cliffnotes version of a post that I made previously… number 4 where it says I am seeing someone… scratch that… back to the drawing board… sometimes I feel like I am not made to be with someone. Apparently everything’s designed in pairs right? Soulmates and what not? I think in the whole grand design of things, I got left out. Maybe I was just a lump of clay that was left over from creating everything else but only enough for one entity so I am all alone…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, a post is never complete without #1 Crush news… no change since the last post. Both of us kept quiet and haven’t contacted each other. My guess? He is busy. I saw him online a couple of times but he never said hi or anything. I tried this thing where I made myself appear offline for a couple of days and then made myself appear online. Did not work. He still did not say hi. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did send me an SMS like earlier in the week though. Of course I was ecstatic. Unfortunately, that was it. There’s not much else left in our relationship. He had told me that it was too expensive to go out with me. It’s not that I am expensive but I hardly get to see him so whenever I do get to see him, I’d want it to be special. Then, Prof Karen Walker said that he thinks it’s the cause of me not seeing him that much. The expensive meals. Coz he was afraid to go out with me more often since I only go to expensive restaurants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s bull. I am not expensive. I cook. I eat at roadside stalls. I only eat out at expensive eateries when I am out with good friends or with a special someone. Sure, I do love to dine out at Chili’s or Tony Roma’s but I hardly ever do, unless I am with someone. Normally on weekends. Since I can go to a mamak restaurant any time I want to, when I go out with him or friends, I’d rather go to some place fancier. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, that kind of thinking is the cause of me not going out with #1 Crush as much and now, he’s put the kibosh on us hanging out. Unless he has the cash to go out. Sigh. Since I don’t know when he’d have the cash to spare, he’s gonna have to ask me out. The chances of that happening? Hmmm, lessee… highly unlikely… it’s either me asking or me hinting and nudging until he asks…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, I think my posts about #1 Crush will be less and less. It’s definitely not working out. Yes I am in love with him and everyone else pales in comparison to him. Of course that’s biased ole me talking. But it’s the truth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know for sure how he feels about me. I think he cares, possibly even loves me but to a different degree that how I feel about him. I’d die for him but I don’t think he’d die for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3544272655769889728?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3544272655769889728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3544272655769889728&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3544272655769889728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3544272655769889728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/09/as-you-were.html' title='As You Were'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1327116723096180761</id><published>2008-09-08T20:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T20:53:50.632+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Older and Far Away</title><content type='html'>Cliff Notes of My So Called Life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Work – Busy. As per usual. Almost no time for social life and for friends. Sigh. But according ‘The Devil Wears Prada’, that means I am doing well at work. &lt;br /&gt;2. Colleagues – Am getting closer to a bunch of them since I am almost always at the office. Apparently, these nightshifters have a system that they’ve worked out and I fit right in.&lt;br /&gt;3. Colleagues – The recently married colleague that I mentioned before, (no, not you Teddy, recently married colleague is a girl. Well, I can see why Teddy got confused…), about her not spending time with me after she got married? We’re closer now and her husband’s cool. I like spending time with them and they like spending time with me. They even let me take their car to go to work last weekend! &lt;br /&gt;4. Dating – am seeing someone… &lt;br /&gt;5. Guys – why the hell do I attract all these young’uns?? I am barely 21! Okay, okay, 9 years ago, barely 21… I don’t understand this thing where I keep getting younger guys. Okay, so #1 Crush is young too but at least he’s quite matured. I have no energy to raise a child. That is why I am single and gay. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;6. #1 Crush – speaking of, he’s gone AWOL again… it’s like a vicious cycle… I’ve told you guys about his new rule right? The one where I am not allowed to ask him out? Unless he is brimming with the green stuff? Well, I guess that would be like… never… sigh… I miss him… I guess it would be a burden going out so I won’t ask anymore… as to not burden him…&lt;br /&gt;7. Went back to hometown to see the familia over the Merdeka weekend. Things with me mom is slightly better but she is still the same ole mom, still nagging, still criticizing, still scrutinizing… sigh…&lt;br /&gt;8. Have been spending a lot of time in the office lately… sometimes I do have legitimate work but most of the time I stick around for the company… living alone is getting to me apparently…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1327116723096180761?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1327116723096180761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1327116723096180761&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1327116723096180761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1327116723096180761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/09/older-and-far-away.html' title='Older and Far Away'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2924790706358387952</id><published>2008-08-21T00:02:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T00:02:58.546+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Dead Things</title><content type='html'>Jealous Guy from work is talking to me. Weird much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is in the same unit as me. Actually, there’s only him and me in the unit. And the bitchy boss. There really is no need for jealousy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not get it at first. Why would he be all jealous of me? We do different kind of work. It’s not like we’re ever competing for the same award or the same promotion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, a good friend of mine, which is a colleague from a different department, warned me about Jealous Guy. Apparently, JG has been mouthing off to him about me. Bad things about me. Unfortunately for him and quite fortunate for me, this colleague (and most of the people working there) is a good friend of mine. At the very least, I get along with most of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he told me what JG had told him. I did not know what to make of it. He’s not a fag. He’s married with a kid. But he mouths off like a fag. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, another colleague/friend told me that JG had been mouthing off, in front of him, to my boss. Third time’s the charm. He mouthed off again to another colleague and of course, I was informed of the incident. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept quiet. I concentrated on my work and made sure I covered my tracks. Now, he is in trouble with the boss and her Mini-Me. I likey. He has this habit of blaming everybody else for him slacking off and not doing work. I was one of the victims. But he can’t use me as an excuse/punching bag anymore. Boss got all the emails and knows I am doing my work. Yay! Karma’s a bitch…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he is talking to me now. I don’t know what to make of it. I am guessing he needs to borrow money from me. Yes, he borrows money from me on a monthly basis. Which is why I am so not understanding why he is dissing me to my good friends. Anyways, this gravy train has left the station and I ain’t helping him anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooh, he is also trying to make nice with a lot of the other colleagues. See, after they’ve seen his bad behavior, with me and with others he blamed for him coming in to a 9-6 daily shift at noon and leaving by 3 to go catch a movie or karaoke and not being able to finish his work on time… wow, that’s a loooong sentence… did not even finish it yet… where was I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yes, other colleagues have been avoiding him like the plague. He did not care at first because he was kinda on good terms with the boss. Now that the boss has an entirely evil Mini-Me, he has been cast out and that was when the trouble started for him. But he totally had it coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After people see that he is not a nice guy, and that I am nicer, they did not care for him as much. As a matter of fact, some people downright hate him. Sigh. The problem is I have to work with him so I don’t really have the luxury of cold-shouldering him. Sigh. But I am slightly enjoying the fact that his life is miserable right now. What? It’s not like I ratted him out for being late! It was someone else but naturally he thought it was me. Like, whatever! I have not caused him any harm so I ain’t evil for smiling at his misfortune. Wait, maybe I am evil because I smile at his misfortune that is not caused by me. I am confused. Either way, I am enjoying seeing him squirm in front of the boss, trying to weasel his way out of problems that he himself caused.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2924790706358387952?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2924790706358387952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2924790706358387952&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2924790706358387952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2924790706358387952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/08/dead-things.html' title='Dead Things'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1893721962247814869</id><published>2008-08-10T23:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T01:34:07.961+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doublemeat Palace</title><content type='html'>So many things are going on right now. Trouble at the work with a jealously weird colleague. Work load’s been piled on, again. Health is on the fritz. Love life sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lessee, love life first. I mentioned the last time I was seeing someone? Well, it’s over now. He chose to be with someone else. It does hurt a little bit, especially when I try to turn to my friends for comfort and it just got dismissed. Apparently, people have a say in how I should be feeling. If it is less than a month, then I am not allowed to feel pain. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a silver lining though. Right now, he, as in the guy I was seeing, is having major problems with the new guy. Not matured enough. Too whiney. He told me he was depressed. This was the day after they became a couple. He even told me that there was no X factor, nothing special, nothing the guy was bringing to the table. His life did not change at all with the addition of the new guy. I am not being evil or being a woman scorned. He told me all this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also told me that he checked the guy’s phone messages. I told him off about it but he argued his case. If he did not have done so, he would not have caught the guy cheating on him. Or will cheat on him. It’s a whole convoluted thing that I won’t get into coz that’s their lives, not mine. I asked him why he picked that one over me and he said he had no idea why. He also said that he made the wrong choice. He had two guys in his life and he chose the wrong one. Which means he think I was the right one. Unfortunately, he already made his bed and now he has to sleep with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, yes, I was secretly smiling. Of course secretly. I know tact. I won’t flaunt it in his face. This Friday will be the day. I’ll know whether the affair’s happening or not and whether they’ll stay together or not. What if they broke up you ask? I don’t know. I don’t see me ever going to him now. I was good to and/or for him and he totally dropped me for that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, speaking being good, I’ve been single for more than one year now. I tried dating, jumping back into the fray. Unfortunately, all I got was people who just wanted fun and people who are taken. Have anyone seen Tyler Perry’s Why Did I Get Married? Starring Janet Jackson? Good movie. It was where I got the ’80-20 rule’. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You only get 80% of what you need from your partner. The other 20% is what causes you to cheat on your partner. Unfortunately, that 20% is more attractive than the 80% hence a lot of people break up but in the end realized that they made a mistake. Like the guy I was seeing… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is, no one stuck by me. I’m like a pit stop. Once they’ve broken or had a flat tire, they’d stop by and after I fixed them, they dashed off. Well, there is one who has stuck by me for over a year now. Yup, #1 Crush. Now, you all know how convoluted my ‘relationship’ with him is, right? No matter what happened between us, or what happened in our lives, he is still there for me and I for him. I guess I’m kinda lucky in that sense. I may be his 20% and he may have not left his 80% for me, but we’re still there for each other and I guess, when it comes right down to the wire, that’s all that matters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1893721962247814869?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1893721962247814869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1893721962247814869&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1893721962247814869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1893721962247814869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/08/doublemeat-palace.html' title='Doublemeat Palace'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-6678764438983949636</id><published>2008-07-11T15:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T15:18:30.403+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone</title><content type='html'>Life’s hectic right now. Work is a bitch and I ain’t talking about my boss. Well, okay, my boss is a bitch but… well, I guess I am talking about her. Love life is confusing, as per usual and I ain’t talking about #1 Crush. Social life is kinda weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, let’s start with the working sitch. There is a departmental war in the company. I belong to one department but the other department had asked me to fill in every now and again during the weekends since I also have some experience in that area. So I agreed. Money is always good eh? No one’s gonna give me 15 bucks per hour anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, that was when I got caught in the crossfire. My boss is unofficially punishing me for helping out the other department and has piled on work. Not to mention that she said that my work is inadequate and that my working part time on weekends is interfering. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That vengeful bitch. She’s just using me as a pawn in her war against that other department. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am kinda seeing someone. Yes, that same someone who’ve I blogged about before. I have a routine now. I sleep over at his place Wednesdays and Thursdays. If I am working during the weekend, then I go back home. If not, I’d stay. Not sure if you can call it serious or not. I am hung up over #1 Crush and he has his own #1 Crush to deal with. I am attempting to move on but I am not sure if he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of #1 Crush, we’re still friends. Twas a misunderstanding on my part. Well, I am a drama mama after all. #1 Crush and I are doing fine. Nothing more, nothing less. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Socially, I am doing so well. I am feeling abandoned these days. I am sure my friends would say that I am not there for them as well since I started dating, um, haven’t named him now have I? Hmmm…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, there’s the case of my recently married friend. We used to hang out a lot together. I do get it. Once you’ve committed to someone, you’re priorities change but you gotta make time for your closest friends and I feel that this friend has not been trying hard enough to make time for the friends. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I was upset for all of two seconds coz I realize that the world has never revolved around me. So I had to deal with it coz that’s the way the cookie crumbles. Oooh, sure could use a cookie right about now. What??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-6678764438983949636?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/6678764438983949636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=6678764438983949636&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6678764438983949636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6678764438983949636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/07/gone.html' title='Gone'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3877994934722682844</id><published>2008-06-27T18:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T18:56:57.047+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrecked</title><content type='html'>I had the most peculiar conversation with #1 Crush today. Okay, the conversation took place Monday and I guess it spilled over to the whole week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him how I have been feeling lately. About the silent treatments. Felt like I am being used. Like when there's absolutely no one around, then he'll find me. Okay, that's not exactly how I felt. Maybe just a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, a concerned friend filled my head with talks about him using people quite a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nutshell? He was not pleased. But it was not as bad as you'd think. He seemed okay about it during the week. We chatted quite often, like the way we used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, today, he was kinda quiet and when he did buzz me, the chatter was quite weird. Towards the end of the conversation AKA time to leave the office, he said a few choice words that hinted at the possibility that he might have taken offence at the insinuation and that he might wanna end our whatevership. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But maybe I am being paranoid and being overly dramatic. But when you sign off with 'have to go home now, bye, nice knowing u', that so doesn't leave a body feeling good now does it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, if that is indeed the situation, then I guess I just have to take it like a man. I've always said that I wanted to slow things down since I am head over heels in love with him but he doesn't feel the same way. But I never wanted total and utter separation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if that is indeed what he wants, then who am I to do anything eh? I might be losing one of the best (not to mention one of the hottest) guys I've ever met. Guess there's no such thing as having cake and eating it too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3877994934722682844?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3877994934722682844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3877994934722682844&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3877994934722682844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3877994934722682844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/06/wrecked.html' title='Wrecked'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3049743043148626725</id><published>2008-06-25T17:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T17:21:16.778+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Smashed</title><content type='html'>I am officially 30 years old now. Turned 30 on Monday. Spent the whole day with #1 Crush. Not that it was planned or anything. He had a thing and needed my help. Since I was already on leave that day, I helped him. Again, we did not hang out because of my birthday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I have vowed to change a few things about myself and my life. But I won’t talk about em now. I don’t wanna jinx it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I’ll talk about this after a couple of months, when things are in place and more concrete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any event, things are kinda okay with my life right now. Work is okay. I am even working on the weekends as a part time assistant producer. So money’s slightly better now. Love life… nothing to write home about. The guy I am seeing turned out to be in love with someone else, who’s in a relationship with someone else. Kinda like my situation with #1 Crush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of, my feelings for him have not dissipated. I still love him. But I have accepted the fact that we are close friends and nothing more. I am fine with that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, people from work actually celebrated my birthday. Without me. Yup, you read right. They bought cake and everything but forgot that I had sent in my application for leave. Sigh. But shows that they cared about me eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3049743043148626725?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3049743043148626725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3049743043148626725&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3049743043148626725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3049743043148626725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/06/smashed.html' title='Smashed'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-5751414795363004259</id><published>2008-06-19T12:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T12:17:02.392+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tabula Rasa</title><content type='html'>I am kinda seeing someone new. No, not like a relationship, boyfriend-boyfriend thing. But just dating. Um, not even dating. Is it dating? Quite confusing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve chatted before a couple of times but we never kept in touch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, we hooked up online last Friday and he took me out clubbing. But it did seem like he was a bit distant, so maybe he just wanted clubbing buddy. Fine by me. I had not been out clubbing for a few months now. So I needed to go out. Bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True to form, I was out of touch. Most of the songs played were foreign to me, and not just coz they’re in a foreign language. I understand English. Hehehhe. But I just don’t recognize any of them. Except for the oldies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was pretty much ignored in the club. But I was fully anticipating this mostly because you can’t talk in a club. Too loud. So I just danced a bit here and there and mostly watch people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, everywhere I look, every guy I checked out, reminded me of #1 Crush. Salt to wound? I literally saw him. #1 Crush. In everyone in my field of vision. Could have sworn it was him, until a burst of light hit him and I realized twas just a random dude. I was going out of my mind. In every single gyrating guy. Sigh. Apparently getting over him would be a tumultuous ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, this new guy. So after the club, we went to a mamak for some food and/or drinks. When I say we, I mean him and his friends. I was so caught off guard. But I think I handled it fine. By that time, I really thought he had no interest in me whatsoever, because I was talking to the friends a lot more. He was more silent than the lambs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But towards the end of the, um, morning, he asked me if I wanted to come back to his place. That’s a good sign right? Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, to cut an interesting story short, he had asked me to come to his place almost every night since and yes, I had been sleeping at his place and going to work in the morning. Lucky he works nearby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But back to the topic of seeing vs dating vs whachamacallit… Not too sure what this is but so far, I’m liking it…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-5751414795363004259?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/5751414795363004259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=5751414795363004259&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5751414795363004259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5751414795363004259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/06/tabula-rasa.html' title='Tabula Rasa'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-6158606625910757723</id><published>2008-06-11T13:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T17:12:34.241+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Once More, With Feelings</title><content type='html'>I cried today. In the office. In front of my colleagues. Okay, not really in front. At my cubicle. Lucky no one came to see me. I am kinda poopular around here. Apparently, people came up to me for advice. Yeah. Advice. Relationship advice. Of all people, they'd ask me. The screw-up. The one who can't seem to fall for available guys. The one who is kinda masochist and likes to inflict pain on his own heart. Wait... that would make me kinda sadist huh? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I've been downloading some songs these past couple of weeks. Especially since my laptop crashed for the second time and everything had been erased. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Downloading randomly mind you. Happened to download Marc Thomas' song called Your Love My Love. And happened to listen to it today. Oh. My. God. The tears just flowed like I was a &lt;a href="http://thebrokensymphony.blogspot.com"&gt;weepy friend of mine&lt;/a&gt; watching Enchanted. Yup, Enchanted. God, he cries watching everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any event, the song reminded me of him. Not Weepy Boy. The other him. Oh, alright. Force it out me why dun you. #1 Crush. There I said it. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I am supposed to be on this plan to slow it down and such, but I miss him so much. It's been a month since I last saw him. Last stared into his eyes. Last be near him. Last touched him. Emm, the PG-13 touch. The non-notty touch. Last breathed the same air as him. Last took his picture with my trusty camera phone. Last heard his sexy manly voice. Last gave him a happy. Err, the PG-13 happy. Non-notty happy. Gave him a birthday present that he said he loved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had not realized how much I miss him and how much he is a part of my daily processes and thoughts. Until I heard this song and the walls came crashing down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand that I have to be strong and not let my feelings for him cloud my mind. I stand to lose everything and get hurt. So I am taking the high road and slowly trying to back away from my own selfish needs. It is not that easy though. #1 Crush is back from his weeks-of-silence. And there's that one particular day looming in the distance...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me what would you do if I &lt;br /&gt;Left on this train tomorrow &lt;br /&gt;Would you chase that train down &lt;br /&gt;To the end of the platform? &lt;br /&gt;And would you leave your love there &lt;br /&gt;For me to return to? &lt;br /&gt;Cause you know Ill be back real soon &lt;br /&gt;And you should know Id do the same for you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I just met you &lt;br /&gt;But I’ll never forget you &lt;br /&gt;Because &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Love is my Love &lt;br /&gt;And your Pain is my Pain &lt;br /&gt;And your Sunshine is my Joy &lt;br /&gt;And your Rain is my Rain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be with you &lt;br /&gt;Hand in hand and face to face &lt;br /&gt;Let’s find a way &lt;br /&gt;Back to this place &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I found that letter that you wrote me &lt;br /&gt;It was hiding in my coat &lt;br /&gt;I mustve read it bout a hundred thousand times &lt;br /&gt;Well we don’t know where we’re going &lt;br /&gt;And we don’t know what’s in store &lt;br /&gt;But, boy, I really love your kisses and I hope I get a hundred thousand more &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I just met you &lt;br /&gt;But I’ll never regret you &lt;br /&gt;Because &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Love is my Love &lt;br /&gt;And your Pain is my Pain &lt;br /&gt;And your Sunshine is my Joy &lt;br /&gt;And your Rain is my Rain &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re one in a million &lt;br /&gt;But for now I’m gonna put this love away &lt;br /&gt;In a space that we may find again one day &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Love is forever my Love &lt;br /&gt;And your Pain is forever my Pain &lt;br /&gt;And your Sunshine is my Joy &lt;br /&gt;And your Rain is my Rain &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be with you &lt;br /&gt;Hand in hand and face to face &lt;br /&gt;Oh, let's find a way &lt;br /&gt;Back to this place&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marc Thomas - Your Love, My Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-6158606625910757723?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/6158606625910757723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=6158606625910757723&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6158606625910757723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6158606625910757723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/06/once-more-with-feelings.html' title='Once More, With Feelings'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-871825068810551226</id><published>2008-06-07T02:07:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T14:01:25.709+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>All the Way</title><content type='html'>June’s quite a big month for me. My nephew was born in this month, and so was I. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this year, it’s a bit special. This is my 6th month working at the company. One more month, and I’d officially last longer at one job than all other previous jobs. Except for my first job of course. I worked there for more than 2 years. Yup, I had been moving from one job to another ever since that first company shut down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been told, unofficially, that I would be confirmed. Yay! The letter had been drawn up and everything. I have seen it with my own eyes. Unfortunately, we are changing management, and the GM refused to sign the letter and wanted the new management to issue the letter. Unfortunately, the new management wants to put it on hold. So much for the ‘yay’ eh? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I was told that it’s not just me. Everybody else is in the same boat. Phew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I am taking some time off to go back to my hometown to celebrate my nephew’s birthday. Although it won’t be for too long because the universe will implode if I am in the same room with my mom for more than five minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month is also when I am testing #1 Crush. To see what the thing between us is… just friends or more or a thing of convenience…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-871825068810551226?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/871825068810551226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=871825068810551226&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/871825068810551226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/871825068810551226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/06/all-way.html' title='All the Way'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-6968583986827461006</id><published>2008-05-30T15:11:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T15:23:57.586+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Life Serial</title><content type='html'>The 28th had come and gone. No, we did not go out. He didn't contact me at all. I called him on Monday, asking if it was still on and he said it was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I had him on the line, I asked him why he was quiet for two weeks. Busy was the answer I got. He claimed to not have gotten my SMSes. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also said that he'd YM me the next day to discuss the details of the replacement birthday celebration dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But of course, he never did contact me and we never did meet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've came up with a plan for me to back off whatever the thing is between us, at least for awhile. It seems like all the work came from me and not from him. Kinda like he is taking me for granted and that he doesn't really care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I cannot know for sure what's going on inside his head but I figured it's best if we slowed things down. Maybe we've gotten too close. With the way things were going between us, it's not a bad idea. He's already not contacted me for a couple of weeks so I am used to being alone without him (in spirit anyways).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as I was braving the day implementing the new strategy, he YMed me. Even though I was offline. I was online but I was offline to him. So we chatted. No apologies for the silence. No apologies for the canceled date. Nothing. As expected of course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I supposed to do now? As soon as I try to withdraw, he pull me back in...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I oughta stick with the plan. Backing off. A bit. Am not gonna pursue anymore. If he wants to meet up, he'll ask and we'll meet. If he wants to chat, he'll buzz me and we'll chat. Nothing more, nothing less. Am tired of being the only one who cares about this 'relationship'...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-6968583986827461006?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/6968583986827461006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=6968583986827461006&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6968583986827461006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6968583986827461006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/05/life-serial_30.html' title='Life Serial'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1994157247730969525</id><published>2008-05-25T01:53:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T15:27:39.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flooded</title><content type='html'>I always needed time on my own&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I'd need you there when I cry&lt;br /&gt;And the days feel like years when I'm alone&lt;br /&gt;And the bed where you lie is made up on your side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you walk away I count the steps that you take&lt;br /&gt;Do you see how much I need you right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The pieces of my heart are missing you&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The face I came to know is missing too&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it ok&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never felt this way before&lt;br /&gt;Everything that I do reminds me of you&lt;br /&gt;And the clothes you left, they lie on the floor&lt;br /&gt;And they smell just like you, I love the things that you do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you walk away I count the steps that you take&lt;br /&gt;Do you see how much I need you right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The pieces of my heart are missing you&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The face I came to know is missing too&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it ok&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were made for each other&lt;br /&gt;Out here forever&lt;br /&gt;I know we were, yeah&lt;br /&gt;All I ever wanted was for you to know&lt;br /&gt;Everything I'd do, I'd give my heart and soul&lt;br /&gt;I can hardly breathe I need to feel you here with me, yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The pieces of my heart are missing you&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The face I came to know is missing too&lt;br /&gt;When you're gone&lt;br /&gt;The words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it ok&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1994157247730969525?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1994157247730969525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1994157247730969525&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1994157247730969525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1994157247730969525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/05/life-serial.html' title='Flooded'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1938160412667176487</id><published>2008-05-22T22:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T22:51:36.236+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>After Life</title><content type='html'>It's been a week since I saw #1 Crush. A week since his birthday. Ever since then, I got busy with work. And apparently, he is also very busy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've not talked. We've not YMed. We've not SMSed. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got worried. Something might've happened to him. I sent him one message last week and another this week. Both went unanswered. More worrying occurred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then yesterday, I accidentally blocked him on YM, ya know, while doing spring cleaning. Yes, I spring-clean my YM every now and then. Too many people on the list but I am not chatting that often... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I just wanted to put him as offline but accidentally blocked him and he went missing from my YM. So I added him back. There was a sign on next to him name saying connection pending approval or something like that. By afternoon, that message was gone. That would mean he had approved me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would also mean he was online, at work and alive and well. And that would also mean he is ignoring my SMSes. He was also not chatting with me by choice. He was there in front of the computer and he could approve my request but he had no time to tell me that he was alright and that he was busy? Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, now I am thinking that it's possible that whatever it is that I had with him have ended. Sigh. If only he'd tell me what's up. That it's over. Or that he truly is busy. Or he could no longer be friends with me. I was worried until the whole 'approve' thingy. Thought he was in an accident or sick or something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it is, I have mentally prepared myself for the worst. Dayyymmmnnn. This time last year, I broke up with The Ex. Same time, different guy. Only this time, I am truly, madly, deeply in love with the guy. Sigh. Why can't these people wait until after my birthday to break up with me? I've never celebrated my birthday with the guy I am in love with... sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1938160412667176487?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1938160412667176487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1938160412667176487&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1938160412667176487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1938160412667176487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/05/after-life.html' title='After Life'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7745456099366927985</id><published>2008-05-12T23:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T23:39:54.971+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Bargaining Part 2</title><content type='html'>We did not go through with the original plan. Big celebratory dinner. Because both of us kinda broke. So he asked to reschedule it to pay day. Which would be in 16 days. 16 days would be too long and the last time I saw him was early April. I told him (and I was being bold with this) that I missed him and I wanna meet him still. Besides, I could give him his birthday present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said okay. We could meet up for a short while, for drinks. Yay! He did not say no. Yay again! Hehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we met. He looked as ravishing as ever but he wore pants that kinda hide his nice tush. Dammit. We went to Carrefour and had drinks and talked. He said the weirdest thing to me... He asked me why I was so sexy... *blushes*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, Nelly Furtado came along and sang "Why do all good things come to an end?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We parted ways. Yup, just a short meetup. I gave him his present. I was all nervous. He opened it and loved it! Yay! Phew! Then he asked when my birthday was. I am guessing that he wants to get me an awesome gift as well. Hehehehhe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I got out of the car, I shook his hand and wished him happy birthday, then I got bold again and asked for a hug. I know, I know, I should have been spontaneous and just hugged him but we were both strapped in. Why the hell did I asked him that? Stupid me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he said that there were too many people around so we could not. He told me I could give him the hug later on when we met again for celebratory dinner. Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7745456099366927985?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7745456099366927985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7745456099366927985&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7745456099366927985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7745456099366927985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/05/bargaining-part-2.html' title='Bargaining Part 2'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7525373568354017488</id><published>2008-05-10T20:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T20:52:55.727+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Bargaining Part 1</title><content type='html'>#1 Crush's birthday is coming up. I've planned to have a celebratory dinner with him the night before his actual birthday. Ya know, so that if other people such as colleagues, family members or the boyfriend would wanna take him out to celebrate, they could. He'd be free to celebrate with them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has confirmed that the dinner is on. Yay! I am so happy. Unfortunately, his birthday came at such an unfortunate timing. I was told that some of the claims that was due to me is not actually claimable. Like the PWTC gig. 10 days worth of allowances gone down the drain, even though I already got some allowance from the parent company and also from the organisers. But when I asked my boss, she said I could still claim. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So starting last week (and even the weekend), I am watching my spending and not going out as much so that I could go celebrate #1 Crush's birthday. Not that I wanna spend that much money, but at least a decent restaurant. It's not often I get to celebrate the birthday of someone I am in love with. Yes, that's right. Even after all these years, I've never been with anyone that long to celebrate a birthday or even an anniversary. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still at a loss as to what to give #1 Crush for a birthday present. I am sure my undying love and loyalty doesn't count. Right? Hehehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, even though he knows how I feel about him, it's kinda awkward to be saying it out loud. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got him a DVD. Is that a good present? It's his favorite movie. Double Disc Special Edition Director's Cut. I actually had bought it a long time ago but when I bought it, I had #1 Crush in mind. And I think he's seen the DVD on my shelves whenever he came over. Is that tacky? Giving a present that's been bought a long time ago? Anyway, I am out of ideas so I am giving him that DVD and also perfume, But the perfume was something he had specifically asked me to get for him from the warehouse sale that I went to, so technically it could not be counted as a present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so psyched!! Can't wait for Monday... I wanna hug him and kiss him... but I dunno if I would have the nerve to do so... maybe... I am so gonna need liquor... wish me luck! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, tomorrow (11th) makes it exactly one year that I broke up with The Ex and one year that I have been single... Not too sure where he is or what he is doing... but I hope he's happy... okay, I don't, sue me... I hope he rot in purgatory but happily rotting in purgatory... hehehehe...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7525373568354017488?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7525373568354017488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7525373568354017488&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7525373568354017488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7525373568354017488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/05/bargaining-part-1.html' title='Bargaining Part 1'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-4881801790014983244</id><published>2008-04-29T14:33:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T18:52:01.917+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>The Gift</title><content type='html'>May. A month full of events. Birthdays. An ex-fag hag. A few scandals. &lt;a href="http://thebrokensymphony.blogspot.com" target="_blank"&gt;A friend&lt;/a&gt;. #1 Crush. Yes, you know where this was headed. Such smart readers. Oh, and two days before #1 Crush’s birthday, my ex and I broke up, exactly one year ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t worry. I am over that. I have #1 Crush. Not that I using #1 Crush to get over my ex. Hmm… methinks it’s about time to name #1 Crush something else since I am sure that I am no longer crushing… any suggestions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I told you guys that I had been working super crazy and that I rarely get time off, even weekends off right? So I am taking time off in May. Just a few days. I still have plenty of replacement leave though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am taking time off specifically the day before #1 Crush’s birthday. And on the day itself. I wanna celebrate his birthday with dinner. Even though #1 Crush mentioned that he doesn’t celebrate his birthday, I am hoping he’d bend the rules for me. Yup, I told him that I’d love to take him out. He’ll consider. Hopefully we can get together. This would be the first time I actually celebrate a loved one’s birthday with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If he says no, or he’s too busy with work, then I get to be on leave still. Consolation prize but hey, still something right. I told him I’d take him out the day before the actual birthday so that he could spend his birthday with his friends or his boyfriend. *clutches chest* Dun worry, I’ll be okay…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now. What do I get him for a birthday present? I already bought him Polo Black during the perfume warehouse sale last weekend but that was more him asking me to buy him something and not me buying it coz I wanted to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, speaking of perfumes, I called him Saturday to tell him what I bought for him. I normally would not disturb him on weekends as that was the time for him with his boyfriend *head aches*. Ugh, that kinda hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I already told him about it on Friday. I actually wanted to confirm if he wants it or not but he did not pick up the first time I called so I naturally assumed he was with the boyfriend. Hey, that did not hurt. *nose bleeds* Dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But later in the afternoon, during lunch, he sent me a message so I called him and we talked for a bit. Today, he told me his boyfriend was actually listening in on the conversation. Crap. #1 Crush was being ominous and stopped communicating after that. Did he get in trouble? But why would he get in trouble? It was a very innocuous conversation. I am kinda worried though. This incident might put a crimp in my plans to celebrate his birthday later in the month…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: It seems that I was worried for no apparent reason. All is fine... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-4881801790014983244?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/4881801790014983244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=4881801790014983244&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4881801790014983244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4881801790014983244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/04/gift.html' title='The Gift'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-603386791813146871</id><published>2008-04-21T12:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T12:05:29.158+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Weight of the World</title><content type='html'>Prof Karen Walker loves to stir things up. I don’t think he could sit by and watch things moving at a glacial pace. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He recently asked me a series of questions. Questions pertaining to #1 Crush. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Questions like “Where is this going?” and “What do you want from this?” and the million dollar question, “If he continues to treat you nicely and pay attention to you, will you stop looking?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Questions that I could not really answer. Um, for those not in the know (or those just starting to read the blog), I am in love with #1 Crush (aptly named after the Romeo &amp; Juliet song by Garbage) but unfortunately for me, he is currently in a relationship. I don’t even know if he likes me like how I like him or not. I know he enjoys spending time with me, if not we would not be meeting it up every now and again, just the two of us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I am not sure where this is going and what I want from this. Okay, I know what I want. Him. Plain and simple. But then things get complicated. Assuming that he digs me too, how would one proceed with that? I believe in karma. What goes around, comes around, as Ms Keys would belt out. What would stop someone else from breaking us up if that was how I got him in the first place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, typically, Prof Karen Walker came out with a taunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“(*name censored for anonymity) is vacationing with (again, censored, anonymity). What have you got?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, there’s this guy who’s in love with another guy but that guy is not single. Sounds familiar? Exactly like the situation I am in with #1 Crush. Hence the comparison. This guy did not care about anyone else and he set out to get his man. Prof Karen Walker have not said this out loud but I think he’s rooting for this guy. Maybe because the guy is doing something about it. He wants it, and he’ll work to achieve it. And the Prof has been telling me that I don’t communicate well and that I never say what I want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I do this? Do I just tell #1 Crush about my feelings for him and attempt to break him and his boyfriend up? I have a problem with that scenario. Not the telling about feelings part but the breaking up of people part. Actually, #1 Crush knows of my feelings for him. We kinda talked about it early on. He is also a conversational wizard and managed to wring out of me the address of this blog. Since I write about my feelings here, including feelings about him, he has read them all and knows everything. He has no problems with it and had said that I am entitled to my feelings and he is flattered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess Prof Karen Walker is the hands-on kinda guy. It must’ve baffled him to see me going at it like this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s clear. I am not denying that I am in love. I am also not denying that I have no idea how #1 Crush feels about me or about all this. For all I know, he is quite happy with his current life and is not looking for a change. However, he is still in touch with me almost daily and when there’s a break in both our schedules, we’d meet up for some quality time together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter what, I am thankful that he is in my life. Even if we’re destined to just be friends. I’ll take it. Be near him is good enough for me. Guess we now know the answer to the third question eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-603386791813146871?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/603386791813146871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=603386791813146871&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/603386791813146871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/603386791813146871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/04/weight-of-world.html' title='Weight of the World'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-5576362079681425745</id><published>2008-04-15T10:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T10:34:40.732+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Spiral</title><content type='html'>Had been working for two weekends in a row. Normally I’d complain and bitch about it but this time I was happy to do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Book Fair at PWTC. The parent company joined us at the booth and actually gave us RM20 per day meal allowance. I also get to claim from my employers RM40 per day. That doesn’t include the RM20 per day I got as a bonus from the organizers because they were supposed to provide food but they did not manage to. All in all, it’s RM80 per day on top of my salary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, #1 Crush was there. There were so many things going on between us. Lunches, dinners, karaokes, bowling. There was even cooking of dinner. He was cooking at my place. J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am a happy gurl. Although the book fair is over and life resumed back to its normal ways, I still smile when recalling the book fair. We spent so much time together in that one week than we’ve ever done in the one year we’ve been friends.  Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and Marketing Girl quit. I bet my boss is doing a happy dance. She told me and a colleague that she’d do whatever it takes to make sure MG quit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, two mini paragraphs of #1 Crush and I moved on to work stuff? Weird. I don’t really feel the need to talk about what went on. Too much things to blog? Not really. Hmmm…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say this though. I am getting more comfortable with him and letting my guard down. I mentioned karaoke right? I’ve always tried to and successfully avoided him for karaokes because I am shy. I don’t let just anyone hear me sing. Next up is clubbing. Yes, I’ve been avoiding him in the clubs too. I dunno why but I am shy. I don’t really dance, even though I love to dance. He’s been seeking me out in the clubs but we’ve never crossed paths. Thank Goddess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, also, I’ve been getting more and more jealous. Of other people flirting with him. Of course I can’t control it and can’t stop them from flirting. The thing that makes it worse is that #1 Crush flirts back. Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 Crush is extremely charming and good looking. Quite a number of guys and girls fall for him. Including this one gay guy working in front of my booth. Of course I can’t tell him off, to tell him to stop flirting with #1 Crush. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 Crush was not being helpful to the sitch coz he also flirts back and was asking for the fag’s number. I told him I would not give him the number because I was jealous. Yup, that’s right. I told him. Dunno whether I oughta feel proud that I was forthcoming with the info or I should feel embarrassed. After all, #1 Crush is not mine. I should not be jealous. We’re supposed to be just friends. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, there was this incident with a friend who wanted so badly to meet #1 Crush. Of course I balked. Not so much from jealousy… okay, jealous. But also coz I have told them of my feelings for #1 Crush and I did not want any of it repeated to #1 Crush. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this friend went around telling my other friends his intentions of wanting to meet #1 Crush. I shouldn’t balk at that right? Wrong. He also told my friends he would not mind if #1 Crush wanted to do him. He told me himself that he wanted to meet #1 Crush but only meet. But then he finished his statement by saying “I don’t think I am #1 Crush’s taste anyways.” Announcing intentions much? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 Crush is good looking and I don’t blame the guy for getting an itch down there but come on. Like Tyra Banks said, “If you’re a bitch, hide it”. If you really wanna go down this road, don’t tell me lar. He knows how I feel and yet he’s flaunting it to my face. Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much for not writing much about #1 Crush eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-5576362079681425745?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/5576362079681425745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=5576362079681425745&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5576362079681425745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5576362079681425745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/04/spiral.html' title='Spiral'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-6245831896533407011</id><published>2008-04-01T14:12:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T14:14:47.076+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Tough Love</title><content type='html'>Work’s getting me down. Pressure. It’s not good for me. Understatement. I know. But I am prone to have migraines. Too much pressure and I’ll get the worst kind of migraine. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d love to be able to just quit. I had even considered going back to my hometown and work with my mother. Yeah, it’s really that bad. Um, for those not in the know, I had a huge fight with my mom and we’re not really in good terms with each other for over a year and a half now. But that’s a totally different story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I have been given a task to do some sort of marketing thingy which had absolutely nothing to do with my job scope. Actually, I was put in charge. Now, I don’t really mind because if I go out for events like these, I could claim meal allowance. 10 days worth of meal allowance is quite a lot and I could use that kind of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, #1 Crush will also be there. Heheheheh. Yes, I look towards the brighter side of things. I can’t look at the bad. It gives me a headache. Anyways, he’s been on the quiet side these past few days. Not sure what’s up. I miss him. Miss chatting with him. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops, sidetracked. We had a meeting today to discuss the events and a colleague spoke up. She was not thrilled about doing events. She even applied for leave. My boss chewed her up and spat her out. I wished I could help her and state my case as well but my colleague dug a hole the size of a grave and jumped in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She actually said that the marketing thingy is not a marketing exec’s job. Unfortunately for her, it really is a marketing job. My boss told her that she’s being unreasonable and that she really should take charge. Boss pointed out that me and the other two guys could cite that excuse and refuse to work but Marketing Girl could not. Boss went on a rant for half an hour. I tried diverting the word lashing and discuss the event but I could not divert it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guys and I were blushing like mad and our ears were red. It was effing uncomfortable. Marketing Girl was quiet like a mouse while Boss kept on lashing with her wicked mouth. Finally, Boss just told her to hand in her resignation letter coz Marketing Girl kept saying she can’t do the marketing thingy coz she’s shy and embarrassed to be doing such work. Again, digging own grave. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt bad coz Boss could have lashed at Marketing Girl in private and just kept the meeting on point. Sometimes I think Boss just could not think straight and is powered by her hormones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know whether Marketing Girl will quit or not. I hope not. I kinda like her a bit. I miss #1 Crush. Yes, yes, had to put it in there. Sigh. Our ‘relationship’ is kinda different, I can’t contact him. He contacts me. I don’t do waiting well but I have learned and understood his patterns. If I deal the hand first, I get zip. Always waiting. Always alone. No, wait, that’s a Slayer. Sigh…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-6245831896533407011?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/6245831896533407011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=6245831896533407011&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6245831896533407011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6245831896533407011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/04/tough-love.html' title='Tough Love'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2505515332115452441</id><published>2008-03-28T00:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T00:32:01.559+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bowling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Intervention</title><content type='html'>Bowling is a favorite activity of mine. That, and sex. Okay not really sex. Okay, yes, sex. Not really. Oh, I’m sure you get it…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bowling. Yes. I love bowling. I was first introseduced to bowling in 1996 I think. But I did not get into the full swing (pun intended) of it until I went to America. Bowling was cheap there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesdays and Wednesday nights, after 9 pm, it was 99 cents per game. On Thursdays, it was 25 cents per game (but you gotta pay cover charge of 5 bucks). Fridays and Saturdays are Cyber Bowling where you bowl in the dark or UV light and the bowling balls change color. That’s USD7 for two whole hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, that’s where I got hooked. Plus, there was nothing else to do in Pueblo (the town where I was studying at). I don’t do like going to straight clubs and I don’t drink. It was either the movies or bowling. Or study or work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I ain’t saying I am good but I ain’t bad either. Heheheheh. Ever since I got back from America, I’ve had this resolution. I wanted to bowl a game of over 200. I had achieved 201 in 2001 and then in 2002 I got 202. I beat my own highest score. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday, I finally achieved it. My resolution. I bowled a game of 211!! It took me 6 years but I finally got it!! Yay me!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that the celebration’s over, I gotta bowl a game of 220 next… wonder if that would take me another 6 years…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S – Work sitch is no better but at least my Director dismissed the whole drama as another one of my boss’ craziness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2505515332115452441?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2505515332115452441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2505515332115452441&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2505515332115452441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2505515332115452441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/03/intervention.html' title='Intervention'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2797627775903362278</id><published>2008-03-22T02:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T02:33:41.288+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Forever</title><content type='html'>I got into trouble at work. I had been working 7 days a week for a few weeks now. So I asked for time off Wednesday and Friday (Thursday was Public Holiday). My boss okayed it so I hung out at home on those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately for me, my boss did a Jason Bourne and conveniently forgot that she okayed my leave. She went into full bitch mode. She sent me email criticising my work performance and stuff. She even cc'ed to the Big Boss. She even said that I did a disappearing act on Wednesday. WTF??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in a pickle. I could not really answer the email in way that I want. Like "Yo bitch! What's eatin' your panties?" or something to that effect. I know she criticise my work because I did not come in to the office. She said that the website is outdated and that I am responsible. Sure, I admit to it but only from this week. Coz I took time off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like she's hell bent on ruining my life for taking time off. I guess I did not read the fine print that said once I signed on to work there, I'm expected to work 24/7. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's only doing this because I took time off. Just last week, she sung me praises for a job well done. This week, it's outdated and bad? Come on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she even went as far as saying that I am a lazy fuck who just copy off of another website and not update original stuff from our own team. My team does Malay while the website is in English. Come on! It doesn't make sense to mix the lingo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have answered her email. Diplomatic as hell. I wish I could just come clean and told her the truth but I still need this job. However, since my respect for her is completely gone (and now I know her true, true colors), would I really wanna work there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can anybody give me a job? I give good head... I mean, I am a good worker...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I really work from home (which I did, but of course I only update in the evening)? Even though it's my day off? What is it with me and not being able to hold down a steady job? Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2797627775903362278?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2797627775903362278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2797627775903362278&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2797627775903362278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2797627775903362278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/03/forever.html' title='Forever'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-6740651109467384956</id><published>2008-03-17T19:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T19:16:10.127+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>The Body</title><content type='html'>Work’s a bitch. Lately. Gone are the days where it’s fun and games. It’s now tense and boring and bitchy. But I won’t talk about that coz I am not directly involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But believe me. The underlings are in for the fight of their lives against the management. Oooh, the plot sickens…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna bitch about work that’s affecting me. The part where I don’t get a life and supposed to work 24/7. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still working seven days a week. Getting tired and restless. I need a break but I could not. I need my weekends. Unfortunately I have to work weekends as well and it’s not even my primary job. I hate being the reliable one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some friends have commented that I looked like I’ve lost weight. Can fatigue cause weight loss? If it could, then I might have slimmed down a bit. My pants are literally falling off of my waist… if only there was a cute guy around when it actually comes down to the knees… hehehehe…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of cute guys, had a date with #1 Crush… it went well. He showed up. First sign of the date going well. I believe this was our first movie date. Lessee… we saw Beowulf with friends. We saw Harry Potter with friends too. We went and saw Horton Hears A Who. His choice. I would have picked Spiderwick but Horton is okay for me too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and he gave me three dictionaries. THREE. Free. I was looking for a dictionary for my unit and my boss gave me money to go get a couple and I told him about it. He brought em and gave me for free, even though I could’ve paid him the money. Altogether now, awwwww…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh… anyways, like I said, the date went great. I always have a good time with him. Of course, he looked as hot as ever. Took all of my will power not to pinch his cheeks. On the face lar. Haiyo. Not his ass. Okay, maybe his ass too. A bit. Okay, a lot. He noticed I was drooling over his nicely shaped ass so he turned around so that I would not see the ass. Big mistake coz now his um, thingy, is bulging in my face. Sigh…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I was not the only one who was checking out asses. He was checking out mine too. Or at least I think he was. He said that I should lose the backpack so that he could see the curviness of where the small of the back meets the ass. And he poked me on the stomach on more than one occasion. Why? The boy is a chubby chaser lar, he likes em round. Hehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm… he’s not in town anymore. Outstation because of work. When work stopped being hectic today, I realized that I missed him a lot. I know he’s taken and that I am grasping at air but I can’t help it. But we all know my luck is never good in this department. Guess I should count my blessings that a hot guy is even talking to me eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-6740651109467384956?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/6740651109467384956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=6740651109467384956&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6740651109467384956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/6740651109467384956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/03/body.html' title='The Body'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-4058887979209913726</id><published>2008-02-28T22:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T22:40:53.291+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>I Was Made to Love You</title><content type='html'>Work’s been a bitch lately. I haven’t had a proper weekend in weeks. I hate that. I need my cutie sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s even worse when election time rolled around. I had to work on nomination day, which was a Sunday, and have been working since. This coming weekend, I am gonna be working too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my closest friends is having a birthday dinner and I thought I could not attend. He sounded so disappointed. My boss had told me she expected me to stay until 10pm everyday in case. But it’s been a few days of the election campaigning and everything seems to be okay. So I got to go home at 7 or so and I also got to go home early in time for the dinner. Thank God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And unfortunately, I can’t take a break after the election still. I am being attached to one of the divisions at the parent company for two weeks. Sigh. Guess my break will be due in April. Until then, let’s hope I don’t keel over and die…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-4058887979209913726?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/4058887979209913726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=4058887979209913726&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4058887979209913726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4058887979209913726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-was-made-to-love-you.html' title='I Was Made to Love You'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-326058189322424293</id><published>2008-02-14T11:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T11:25:26.146+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crush</title><content type='html'>It’s Valentine’s Day. My mission to find me a partner or at the very least a date for VD (no, not Venereal Disease) has failed. I am alone yet again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Whatever. It’s no big. Okay, it’s kinda big. I know people would say that VD is tacky, just a holiday invented by Hallmark to sell more cards etc etc etc. But I feel the need to go out and have a romantic dinner. I am 22 this year (plus 8) and I have not been on a proper VD outing yet. Wait, maybe I have. Once. But that was with a boy who was still questioning so it was not totally a date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I have been seeing a couple of guys. Okay, a few guys. But nothing serious yet. Just dinner, and then ‘dessert’. Hehehehe. But either they don’t care about VD or they just did not think I am good enough to warrant a VD outing… sad now…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, this morning I was sending out Happy VD messages and one of the guys I was seeing responded with this statement, “That’s not our culture…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holier than thou much? I hate when people do that. This is all about personal choice right? If you feel no need to celebrate VD or anything else, you don’t need to be all uptight about it. Just say politely that you don’t believe in VD and thank the person for the message anyway. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I responded to that message. I said that there are plenty of non-Malay culture thingies that we do every day. He responded with “That’s just how we are, nothing we can do about it. Just don’t get carried away and start celebrating things.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTF?? Why does it always have to be about being gay? I was talking about life stuff. Everyday stuff. If you really look at it, almost everything in life is non-Malay. I am talking about my life in general. My work clothes, my everyday casual clothes, not culturally Malay. I don’t go around wearing Baju Melayu. I don’t eat Malay food all the time. I don’t play congkak or batu seremban or wau or wayang kulit. I don’t practice Silat or use the kris. In fact, I’d bet all the money I have that the guy don’t either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Why the need to be all patriotic and stuff when it’s all just a cover and superficial? I don’t like that. My respect and/or liking for him has gone down a couple notches. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of, did you guys read the news about Aretha being upset at Beyonce? Come on. Just because Beyonce called Tina the Queen? Apparently Aretha IS the Queen, a title bestowed upon her by the industry. Queen of Soul to be exact. Beyonce had a mind of her own and feels that Tina Turner deserves the title of Queen. Plus, egotistical much? Expecting everyone to call her The Queen? Sigh…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-326058189322424293?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/326058189322424293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=326058189322424293&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/326058189322424293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/326058189322424293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/02/crush.html' title='Crush'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1917168235564732883</id><published>2008-02-06T18:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T18:53:07.711+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Blood Ties</title><content type='html'>My luck has not been good lately. I guess the leprechauns forgot to pay me a visit or something. I lost my digital camera on an outing. My money literally vanished from my wallet. Either that, or someone dipped his hand into my wallet and stole it. Hope a Vengeance Demon, I mean, Justice Demon would serve up some justice there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the unlucky streak came again when I got stood up by #1 Crush. Yup, you heard right. He’s not as perfect as I had said huh? Of course not. No one is perfect. Sigh. But he’s quite close… hehehehe… okay, so maybe not close… I am biased…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made plans to meet up Sunday for a matinee and lunch, even though he was going to Ipoh on Saturday and have to attend his company’s annual dinner Sunday night. Yes, he was squeezing me in his busy sched. Yeah, I was all with the “Awww…” too…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had slight reservation about it though coz Saturdays are normally my Guys Night Out with the guys and we normally stay up until the wee hours of the morning. I might not be able to wake up in the morning because we were meeting up at 10. And I was right. We hung out until 5.30 in the morning and I dragged myself out of bed to go to Kelana Jaya LRT station and I arrived by 9.40. Waited until almost 10.30 and I send him an SMS. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called back and said that he was sleeping and he got in at 6 am. He then asked me why I did not message him when I was coming. We already confirmed at 10 so I did not feel the need to be a secretary. So I went back home and he went back to bed. I was slightly tiffed coz I had to wake up early on a Sunday and waited for nothing. But I was more crushed because I did not get to spend time with him. Huhuhu…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did apologize though. On Monday, he apologized again. And wanted to make it up to me. I told him a movie date would suffice so we made plans to hang out Saturday afternoon. Which led to the whole Switchfoot thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, now we’re on Switchfoot. My colleague had been totally avoiding the subject, every time I asked her about it. She insisted that tickets would be available. I kept asking and she kept blowing me off. I had a feeling that the ticket might not be available. She did not pick up my calls the night before and on Saturday. I told #1 Crush of the sitch, that the tickets might not be available. Soooo did not wanna disappoint him. We made a B plan of going to the movies instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady did not follow through on her promise and she told me I had to go there and use my media pass and I had to masquerade #1 Crush as an intern. I did not like the odds so I called #1 Crush. He was of the same opinion. So I asked him if he still wanted to hang with me and go to the movies. He sounded hesitant, then finally saying his friends are gathering for karaoke and that karaoke had been his B plan all along. Sigh. Thought he’d wanna take the opportunity to make it up to me for standing me up the weekend before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’d rather hang out with his friends karaoke-ing. Who was I to stop him? But there’s this voice at the back of my mind keeps telling me that there’s a reason why he’d blow me off again, even after standing me up. Maybe I was just deluding myself into thinking that he likes me and likes hanging out with me. I totally enjoy his company but he might not feel the same way. I hope that’s not the case but with the stuff that has happened, I don’t really know for sure. Am so confused…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1917168235564732883?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1917168235564732883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1917168235564732883&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1917168235564732883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1917168235564732883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/02/blood-ties.html' title='Blood Ties'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-5172187521796352185</id><published>2008-02-01T08:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T08:52:02.100+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Switchfoot'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Concert'/><title type='text'>Checkpoint</title><content type='html'>I am writing this from the office. Yes, I have to work!! It's Federal Territory Day and I have to work!! I even have to work Saturday and Sunday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No big really coz I get to replace these three days at a different time. But I freaked out a bit about working Saturday coz of the Switchfoot concert. Coz of the going to the concert with a certain someone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him to go ahead to the concert without me if I ended up working late Saturday but he refused to go without me, for reasons known only to him. But I am going to be all 'glass half full' and say that he is being sweet. Altogether now... Awwww...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I asked my boss about it, she snapped at me for having excuses when it comes to work. In front of people. So I waited for her to go back to her room, then asked her again, telling her about the concert and that I am going with that special someone. Yes, yes, I told her but skipped on the details. She assumed it's a girl. An actual girl. What... #1 Crush is a man... for the most part... hehehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We checked the time and found that the event was only until 12. Thank Goddess. So it's still on. I hope #1 Crush won't fall asleep or anything and stand me up again. Oh, wait, I haven't told you guys this story yet. Well, I'm gonna. Watch this space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and yes, the tickets have yet to materialize but my colleague assures me that the tickets are accounted for. We have to go to the convention center and hook up with her friend to get it. Hopefully there's no problem. Otherwise #1 Crush might get pissed. *crosses finger*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-5172187521796352185?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/5172187521796352185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=5172187521796352185&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5172187521796352185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5172187521796352185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/02/checkpoint.html' title='Checkpoint'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1265776038060467073</id><published>2008-01-31T11:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T11:07:43.186+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Switchfoot'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Triangle</title><content type='html'>Switchfoot’s performing this Saturday at KL Convention Center!! And I am going to the concert!!! But more importantly, I am going with… care to take a wild guess? Yup, #1 Crush. Apparently, he is a big fan of Switchfoot but he failed to mention it to me before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said he did. I don’t recall any mention of Switchfoot. Anyways, I told him I am going and will be getting a free ticket coz of my new connections. I love my job. Ehehehhe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I was supposed to go with another friend but he had a work thing so I was in the market for a concert buddy. #1 Crush seemed like the perfect one right? Yup. But he could not really afford to buy the ticket due to prior commitments so I looked into it. Who knows, maybe I could get another free ticket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I found out that the lady that was getting me the ticket had to work so I could possibly get hers. She said it’s possible so I told #1 Crush. Oh yeah, it’s not 100% set in stone yet. I am keeping my fingers crossed…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1265776038060467073?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1265776038060467073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1265776038060467073&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1265776038060467073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1265776038060467073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/01/triangle.html' title='Triangle'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1659856525756613882</id><published>2008-01-11T03:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T03:45:02.166+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Colleagues'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Into the Woods</title><content type='html'>Not to bitch at a new job at this early a stage but I kinda got some problems with work. Nothing too drastic or earth shattering but it's bugging the hell out of me. I know, I know, I could stand to be a little more proactive and stand up for myself and it's not like I'm such a pushover, it's just that I don't really like conflict and once a conflict emerges, work sitch will start to be uncomfortable and unbearable. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, my pay is not that high. I got over that. But now that I might have to burn the midnight oil (I actually did a couple of times) and will have to work weekends, I am thinking that I got the short end of the stick here. Other people in the office gets a slightly smaller salary than mine but they got paid for overtime. This Sunday, I have to go outstation for a work thing and if I recall correctly, there's no meal allowance or anything allocated to me. Other colleagues, the ones that have to go out of the office all the time, gets some sort of allowance. This problem, I'll deal with later. This outstation thingy is a one-off thing I think. But working late might be a reality soon enough. I should get meal allowance or transport allowance or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, my colleagues are not doing their jobs. I would end up doing their jobs for them. The admin guy is never at his cubicle. And as soon as he goes and disappears, there would be a need for him. Errands and stuff. I'd be the one sent to go get a letter or a package or deliver something to another unit in the building. Nothing to do with my job right? Sigh. That's not the worst of it. This one other colleague, keeps insisting that I do her work for her. Yup, that's right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She pretends to not know how to do stuff and out of the goodness of my heart, I'd help out. At first, I did not mind because I did not have anything to do and did not even have a computer yet so I helped out of sheer boredom. Now, I actually have somethings to do and yet she still asks me to do stuff for her. Ordinarily, I don't mind doing write-ups or Powerpoint presentations or whatever but if you want my help, you gotta do your work first, then I'll add on. Noooooooooooooooo. She wants me to write everything. Her excuse? "I'm not that good with Powerpoint" or "I don't know how to write a letter."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This, coming from a girl who's supposed to be the marketing person. How has she survived as the marketing person before this? Maybe she did what she's doing with me now, getting other people to do it for her. Sigh. Nice girl but she needs to do her own job. Hmm, come to think of it, I do recall other people, friends and whatnot, asking me to do the same thing for them. Why? Just because I know how to write? Everyone can write. I ain't that special. I know, I know, I should just tell these people to shove it up somewhere but as I did a few days ago, I'll deflect from helping. Busy with my own work. Hehheheh. Yup, I really don't like conflict. But no one gets to walk all over me and gets away with it. Doormat, I am not. I think...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1659856525756613882?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1659856525756613882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1659856525756613882&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1659856525756613882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1659856525756613882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/01/into-woods.html' title='Into the Woods'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-4805376188358516694</id><published>2008-01-04T11:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T11:12:29.579+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recap'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Listening to Fear</title><content type='html'>The New Year is upon us once again. This has been quite a year for me, but not as tumultuous as 2006.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started out the year with great friends, doing PR work for an oil &amp; gas company, kinda seeing someone, kinda avoiding my mother… basically as good as it gets. After a couple of months, the ‘kinda seeing’ turned into an actual relationship. Things are looking up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not for long though. Just as my love life was stabilizing, my work life went down the drain. I made an error in judgment that led to me being fired. Okay, I was not fired. I was asked to leave. Technicality…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was unemployed for a month before I was recruited by my fag hag’s twin sister. Lucky me. I thought I was going to be unemployed for months again. Luck was a lady they say and that lady was a bitch. Moody bitch at that. She got me the job but then decided to dissolve my relationship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, just as my life was getting back on track, I was dumped. The reason? He was afraid that he would forever be known a no good gold-digging tramp. I told him that was a lousy excuse. First of all, who cares what other people think and second of all, prove them all wrong. Prove to them that you’re not just using me for my money (even though I don’t have that much money). Sigh. It was like talking to a wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life sank into a depression and with it, came the migraines. I had to take some emergency leave and stuff and that got me in a bit of hot water at work. I asked him to give me some money when I was unemployed but he refused to. I guess our time together meant nothing to him. The fact that I always went out of my way to help him also did not register at all. I was even more depressed. The migraines came back and brought some friends along with. My friends were there for me though. I am eternally grateful for them. And they were right about him all along. I just refused to believe it coz I was blinded by love. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought I was stuck in that depressed rut, along came him. The guy I’ve dubbed #1 Crush. In the few weeks I’ve known him, he managed to bring me out of my funk and I was able to function normally again. But then, I fell for him and that brought on another bout of depression. The good kind. The kind that I don’t mind because it’s all me and not caused by him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, things at work were improving because the migraines and friends went away and I was able to go to work normally. #1 Crush and I were also doing great. I mean, we were getting along fine. Until my friends started ragging on us. Okay, so I made the tragic mistake of telling them how I felt. How was I supposed to know they’d not stop teasing me (and him) about it? Mercilessly. I don’t mind the teasing because it’s true. I heart #1 Crush. But he did not feel the same way about me. We’re just friends. He should not be subjected to such torment, especially since he has a lover already. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, towards the end of the year, I switched jobs yet again. I have grown to love my colleagues. My job is nice also. And have I mentioned that some of my colleagues are effing cute? And that I get to meet celebs like Sheikh Muszaphar? Sigh…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, thank you everyone who made my year a living hell and then turned it around and made it bearable again. To my ex-colleagues at the oil &amp; gas company, even though it ended the way it did, I still look back fondly of our time together. I got to go to Singapore! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my ex, thanks for our time together, even though now it felt like it was all a lie but a lie that I needed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my friends, I love you guys and thanks for being there for me, even though you guys are quite evil and nasty and devoid of human feelings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my fag hag and twin sis, thanks for hiring me and giving me a chance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my ex-colleagues, you guys made life at the office slightly pleasant. To my current colleagues, hopefully what we have now will last. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, to #1 Crush, thanks for coming into my life just when I needed it the most. I am not sure if you know this but you’ve made me more confident and slightly happier that I ever was. For that, I am eternally grateful. Hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but I love you…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-4805376188358516694?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/4805376188358516694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=4805376188358516694&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4805376188358516694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4805376188358516694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2008/01/listening-to-fear.html' title='Listening to Fear'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3856305731422061486</id><published>2007-12-17T19:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-17T20:04:25.889+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dr Sheikh Muszaphar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Shadow</title><content type='html'>It's been two weeks. I kinda like it here. Mostly because of my colleagues. We get along fairly well and they're a fun, crazy bunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is pretty okay so far. All I'm doing in the office is exploring Facebook. Heheheh. Don't worry. That's actually part of my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that Sheikh Muszaphar dropped by the office? Oh. My. God. He's hot. Me likey... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3856305731422061486?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3856305731422061486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3856305731422061486&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3856305731422061486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3856305731422061486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/12/shadow.html' title='Shadow'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7934220247326266718</id><published>2007-12-10T13:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T13:45:25.434+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Fool For Love</title><content type='html'>I’ve started at this job for a week now. The first few days went on boringly because I have not gotten a PC yet. However, on Thursday, they gave me a temporary laptop. My job is Web Content Editor, and yet I am bound to the desk? What about the weekends? The website won’t get updated? Hmmm…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other company has given me an official offer. I now know how much I would be making if I were to accept the job offer. I am feeling slightly confused. Do I go for the money or do I go for the career?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends have told me that a career is better than taking more money. I kinda agree but right now, those extra bucks would be a lot of help for me. Sigh. I just don’t know what to do. Okay, I guess I know what I should do but I am wondering whether I am doing the right thing or…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7934220247326266718?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7934220247326266718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7934220247326266718&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7934220247326266718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7934220247326266718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/12/fool-for-love.html' title='Fool For Love'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-8703873530018529420</id><published>2007-11-28T00:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T21:54:31.385+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>No Place Like Home</title><content type='html'>I have submitted my resignation. This Friday would be my last day at work. I'll start work at my new office on Monday. Yay. It's a web content editor position at a news agency. A step towards my goal in becoming a writer. Or at least it seems to be. I was all excited and stuff, well, except for the pay, kinda same with the one I am earning now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I got news that I am being offered a job by the other company I interviewed for. Remember? Told you guys I went on two interviews on my day off and then I went and had dinner with #1 Crush? Ooh. Awkward. Um, longer story there but now focused on work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I kinda told the news agency that I'm taking the job but I was told that the other company might be giving me a lot more money. Sigh. These things tend to happen to me. Either I am jobless or have many job offers. Nah, kidding. But I am confused now. Do I go for the money? Or do I schlepp it and follow my dreams?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the one hand, I'd be getting back to my Corporate Comms roots, which also have some form of writing. Also, I'd be a lot closer to Subang, if you know what I mean. Hehehehe. Oh, oh, gotta focus. Extremely cute boss? That's a good thing right? Okay, okay, he also seems very cool and open and quite gay. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, traveling by KTM Komuter is a hassle. The news agency thing is also something I am interested in. Kinda. Sigh. Have to think. By Thursday I gotta make up my mind. HELP!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-8703873530018529420?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/8703873530018529420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=8703873530018529420&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8703873530018529420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8703873530018529420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/11/out-of-my-mind_28.html' title='No Place Like Home'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-227755853719566850</id><published>2007-11-19T22:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T22:58:09.234+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Out of My Mind</title><content type='html'>Has anybody seen Beowulf? That has got to be the gayest movie I've seen since Alexander. The hero guy kept being naked. What's up with that? Yes, I went to see that with #1 Crush (and three other friends). It's not that big a deal. I saw Harry Potter with him (and four other friends). But this time, we got to sit next to each other. Not by my planning of course. Someone else was in charge of the tickets and handed me mine and #1 Crush his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prof Karen Walker kept asking me where my hands were, like I'd do anything underhanded. Dude, #1 Crush had been to my place and we had been in closer proximity than that. Alone even. Nothing happened. Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of restraint. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I am not going to talk about that night or the fact that #1 Crush is good at bowling (which is something I look for in a partner, sigh). I wanna talk about my job. New job. I've been offered a job at the news agency that I interviewed for. The money offered is still the same as my current pay but since it is a start in the right direction of the career that I envisioned having, I guess I am willing to take it like a man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have submitted my two weeks notice. As predicted, my boss has piled on work for me and expects miracles AKA me finishing em all of before I leave. Hopefully I can. I don't wanna cause trouble for my supervisor who helped hired me in the first place. She was the one who pushed me to go for this new job. She totally understood me. Even before I could fathom making any decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In December, I'll be a web editor and I'll be working in a new environment and with new colleagues. Oh good God, I think I might throw up a little bit. Ooh, that reminds me. I gotta get me a housemate. Anyone looking for a room to rent in Cheras? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-227755853719566850?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/227755853719566850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=227755853719566850&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/227755853719566850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/227755853719566850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/11/out-of-my-mind.html' title='Out of My Mind'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-3843472852961615852</id><published>2007-11-09T20:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T21:15:12.734+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jobsearch'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>The Replacement</title><content type='html'>The job interviews went quite well. The KL one was a bit off. Somehow I come across as being intimidated by the interviewer, even though this was my third time being interviewed by him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one in PJ was relatively better. The interviewer was kinda hot and he was kinda gay. I dunno whether the fact he was hot or he was gay or what, but I was slightly more comfortable in that interview. Or maybe because he was speaking English. Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interview even went on for more than one hour. #1 Crush SMSed me, asking where I was. I did not realize that it was close to 6 already. The interviewer seemed reluctant to let me go though. Kept stalling. Ordinarily, I'd raise my eyebrow and be slightly curious but I was kinda late and the commuter train is not known for being on time so I was eager to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to Subang Parade around 6.30. He looked so fine. Of course. We walked around a bit before heading to TGIF for dinner. We finally got a chance to eat our favorite food. Ribs. He wanted to order the JD glazed ribs at first but changed his mind and ordered the normal BBQ ribs. He also asked for a non-smoking table, even though he smokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? Apparently he was thinking of me. Isn't that sweet? Makes a boy fall in love. Wait. Already did. Fall even more. I don't smoke. I don't drink alcohol. If he took the JD-glazed one, I wouldn't be able to have some. He even rebuffed my claim that alcohol burns once cooked. He said some still lingers. So caring. Altogether now... awwwww....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, we headed out. He had a couple of errands to do before sending me home. We took the Federal Highway home. He popped in a CD which featured love songs and love songs only. Toni Braxton. Mariah Carey. BoyzIIMen. George Benson. O.M.G. I love Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You. Always sing it at karaoke. He was singing along to some songs. I kinda joined but I kept my voice level under his because he sings like an angel and my singing voice is bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately for me, there was a Siti Nurhaliza song in the CD and I completely forgotten my reservations and sang normally. I noticed #1 Crush not singing from time to time but I did not make anything of it until the song ended and he said that my singing voice is nice. What the... he was listening to me singing. Noooo!!! Oh, the horrors!! Wait, he said my singing voice is nice??? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why is he piling on the compliments? Dammit. My singing voice is not nice. I have been fortunate that he had been too busy to join me and my friends for karaoke. I am embarassed to unleash my singing voice in front of him. But apparently it's nice so I don't have to pray he'd be busy during karaoke sessions anymore. Just pray that he'd be busy during clubbing time. I ain't ready for him to see me dance. I am not good. Oooh, that reminds me. Last couple of weeks, I went clubbing with friends and so did he. He went looking for me on the dance floor. Lucky I had moved on and went upstairs. I don't think I could have danced if I knew he was around. Yes, yes, I am weird that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where was I? Oh, yes, love songs. All the way to Cheras. Sigh. Then, he missed the exit near Midvalley. I told him so and he said he did not wanna pay the toll. I shrugged. He was taking the long way home. I get to spend more time with him. Wait. Is that his plan all along? Hmmm. Nah. I could not be that lucky. He probably did not know that route to my place. He knew that one way only. Still, I ain't complaining. More time with him is always good. Get to see him sing and be goofy. God, he is so adorable when he's goofy. Just wish I could reach across and pinch his cheek. The one on the face lar people. I am in love, not in lust. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, gotta stop gushing now. Remember, #1 Crush knows of this blog and will probably read this. Even though it's sweet of him to pretend he knows nothing of it when I deny I have a blog. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-3843472852961615852?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/3843472852961615852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=3843472852961615852&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3843472852961615852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/3843472852961615852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/11/replacement.html' title='The Replacement'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-569033745260834523</id><published>2007-11-04T18:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T18:31:33.471+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Real Me</title><content type='html'>My contract has just been renewed for the next three months. After that, I will be up for the permanent position of Technical Writer (coz my supervisor's quitting) but nothing is certain since the company's opening up the spot to the public. I figured my chances of getting that job is pretty slim so I am on the lookout for new jobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the planet's lined up in my favor or something because I got two interviews set up. Via my friends. They heard about a job opening at their office and submitted my resume to them. I'll be attending the interviews tomorrow. One interview is in KL, nearer to my current office and the other one is in PJ (kinda near to #1 Crush).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I get the one in KL because it is slightly easier for me to get to work. But the one in PJ would allow me to hang out with #1 Crush after work. Heheehe. I need to priotise my thingies right? #1 Crush is a priority to me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I am seeing him tomorrow after my PJ interview. Am looking forward to that as well. We haven't seen each other for almost month. I miss him a lot. Hopefully nothing will come up and he had to cancel on me. Wish me luck! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and wish me luck for my job interviews too! Heheheh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-569033745260834523?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/569033745260834523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=569033745260834523&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/569033745260834523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/569033745260834523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/11/real-me.html' title='Real Me'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7762417830701887298</id><published>2007-10-30T22:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T22:06:54.036+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Buffy vs Dracula</title><content type='html'>I had something else all written up. I was gonna tell you guys about my weekend. Went clubbing at La Queen. Almost bumping into #1 Crush (and the boyfriend). Open houses. Cute hosts. Etc etc etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, there is bigger news. I gotta learn to keep my mouth shut. Or at least keep it shut about some stuff. #1 Crush has finally persuaded me to give him the address to this blog. Yup, the one where I detailed our ‘dates’ and my feelings towards him and not to mention everything else that was going on in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Like I could say ‘no’ to him for long. I’d go to the moon and back if he asked me to. Sigh. Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I was writing up a post when he messaged me over YM, asking me why I was quiet. Nonchalantly, I told him I was writing up a post on my blog for the events that happened during the weekend. So he asked to read it. Again. Yup, I had mentioned my blog to him once and he asked for it but I refused back then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow or rather, my ability to say ‘no’ to him had gone down the drain and I gave in. But I made him swear that he’d remain a friend to me no matter what. Who knows? Some people don’t really wanna get close to someone, especially since they are taken and that someone is harboring an all-consuming love for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He read it… well, the index page anyways, and he said that it was fine. Touching. It’s normal. I am entitled to my own feelings and opinions. Guess his reaction was kinda expected. My friends are not subtle when hinting about my feelings for him and I am pretty sure (from our interactions and conversations) that he had known about the torch that I bear for him. Ooh, bursting into song moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sings* The torch I bear is torching me… (guess correctly what song this is and I’ll buy dinner…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now he knows everything, from the ole canoodle to things in my heart to things my conscience is saying. Hopefully things would not change much between us. I so don’t wanna lose him. Oooh, maybe I should not have said that coz #1 Crush might be reading this. Why can’t I fall for a cute, romantic, nice, funny, matured, sexy voiced, independent AND single boy? Had to fall for the unavailable ones eh? Story of my life…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7762417830701887298?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7762417830701887298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7762417830701887298&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7762417830701887298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7762417830701887298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/10/buffy-vs-dracula.html' title='Buffy vs Dracula'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7356759385391117964</id><published>2007-10-16T23:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T23:23:06.120+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Veronica Mars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heroes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TV'/><title type='text'>Restless</title><content type='html'>Yay! Two of my favorite TV shows are merging! Veronica Mars is making an appearance in Heroes! Okay, Kristen Bell is joining the cast of Heroes as a mysterious girl who may or may not have powers. I am told AKA spoiled that it's something kinda cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad Veronica Mars would live on in Heroes after being canceled after 3 seasons. I love that show. It's like Buffy meets Nancy Drew meets CSI. Anybody else caught VM?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AsIuR14nVys"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AsIuR14nVys" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&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/3383104308366276571-7356759385391117964?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7356759385391117964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7356759385391117964&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7356759385391117964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7356759385391117964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/10/restless.html' title='Restless'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-8821376850446443311</id><published>2007-10-11T18:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T18:27:39.467+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marriage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Eid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Primeval</title><content type='html'>It’s Thursday. One more day till Eid. One more day of boredom in the office. #1 Crush has gone back to his hometown. Since yesterday. I miss him a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s even worse today coz all of my friends are no longer online. Most of them has left the city already. That’s right. I am staying in town. Not going back to celebrate with my family. Same shit. Issues with my mother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, it’s even more dramatic. My mother won’t go through menopause alone so she dragged everybody into her drama. She said she was pissed off at everyone so she would be spending raya at her sister’s place in Pekan. My dad would be in Kuala Lipis, celebrating with his mother, with my brother and niece in tow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister decided to celebrate in Kuantan, with the nephew. I refused to choose a side so I have decided to stick it out in KL and celebrate Raya alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Now back to the issue with my mom. Nothing I do pleases her. Everything is wrong in her eyes. Worst of all, she keeps telling the whole wide world about it. About everything that she sees wrong with me. I just can’t take it anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, I’ll just tell her off. But not anytime soon of course. I don’t want to be evil to my own mother. Hence the staying away part. I miss #1 Crush. I miss his humor, the chats that we have everyday over YM. Oopsy, got a bit sidetracked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, the receptionist at work AKA the Fag Hag, has told me her desire to marry me, even though she is fully aware that we both have one common denominator. The predilection for sucking cock. I am sure she’ll get over this idea after the holidays. But if she doesn’t, it’ll be good for me. She knows what she is getting into and she is not complaining. According to her, I am good to the ladies. Duh. I am one of the ladies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I guess this could solve my “When you getting married?” problem… she could keep doing whoever it is that she’s doing and I could continue to pine for #1 Crush… I mean, I could see anybody I want… can’t believe I might be actually getting married… I am going to be a beautiful bride…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, wonder who’s gonna be my bridesmaid… oooh, what will we name the kids... I’ve always like the name Lilly…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-8821376850446443311?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/8821376850446443311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=8821376850446443311&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8821376850446443311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8821376850446443311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/10/primeval.html' title='Primeval'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-8527622700788605752</id><published>2007-10-04T20:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T21:02:06.109+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>The Yoko Factor</title><content type='html'>A lot of things have happened between me and #1 Crush these past couple of weeks. I did not really have time to blog about em, mostly because I had been busy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not busy with work in the office. But busy with #1 Crush. He and I constantly communicate over YM during office hours. Guess I am lucky that I don’t really have any work to do coz we’d be going at it from morning until it’s time for him (or me) to leave the office. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since our second date at that sushi place, #1 Crush and I had seen each other two more times. The first was at my place for a group buka puasa and the second was near his office for buka puasa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hosted a buka puasa gathering (which I do every year) and invited my closest friends. He came at about 2pm, which was way too early. He actually helped me prepare the dishes and kept me company. It was sweet of him to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the third date, I had to take the commuter train to go to his office area. It’s only fair. He traveled quite far to go to my office area for our second date. We had a seafood dinner and a secret recipe cheesecake dessert. Actually, the third date was supposed to be on the day before but he had to cancel at the last minute because something came up. Of course I was upset as hell but I got over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The replacement date was kinda short notice. He was supposed to stay in the office and work (and claim overtime) but he insisted that I come over that side of the world and break fast with him. He would then take me to his office and I’d wait until he’s done with work for him to send me home. I thought it was sweet and highly romantic. He’s involving me in his work life and he was willing to juggle me and work so that we could spend time together before the long Raya break. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. I think I am falling for him hard. What? I’ve fallen? Yup, I have. Dear God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really intended to take things slow with him, mostly he has a boyfriend and I don’t really know if he sees me the way I see him. Unfortunately, with our constant communication and our dates, it’s getting harder and harder to take things slow. Especially with him piling on the charms and the pick-up lines on me. Wait, why would he be piling on the charms and pick-up lines on me? Is he interested in me too? Argh. I need a drink. This is so confusing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-8527622700788605752?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/8527622700788605752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=8527622700788605752&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8527622700788605752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/8527622700788605752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/10/yoko-factor.html' title='The Yoko Factor'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-953238964752869321</id><published>2007-09-23T18:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T18:04:29.143+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Ex'/><title type='text'>New Moon Rising</title><content type='html'>Amidst all these talk of crushes and dates and work and stuff, I finally realized that one significant date is just around the corner. The Ex’s birthday. Yup, I am going down memory lane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My niece’s birthday falls in September also and I had planned to take her (and her brother and my sister) to Sunway Lagoon. So since The Ex’s birthday falls a week before hers, I thought I could take him with, thus introducing him to my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, since it is Ramadan, that plan got scrapped and I’d take them out in October. Unfortunately, we broke up so all that plan went to the big hole in the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though we had known each other for a short time and we were officially together for an even shorter time period, it felt like a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday. May you mature as you age and may you be happy with whoever it is that you are with. Hope you find whatever it is that was lacking in me…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-953238964752869321?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/953238964752869321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=953238964752869321&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/953238964752869321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/953238964752869321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/09/new-moon-rising.html' title='New Moon Rising'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2703385012570803525</id><published>2007-09-20T00:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T01:52:22.615+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Where the Wild Things are</title><content type='html'>I have been pretty busy lately. With friends, with work, with guys, hehehehe. I had another post lined up after the previous post but it took me quite a while to finish writing it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There had been so much happening between me and #1 Crush that I could not really pinpoint anything into a post. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, he suddenly grew a cold front on me. Starting Friday. Had to suffer to some serious silence that day. The weekend was also unbearable. He was even silent on Monday. Guess we were burning too brightly too soon too fast. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, he was apparently avoiding me. But he was answering our group emails. My friends were teasing me mercilessly about my crush on him. Yes, it was written in the emails that were also sent to #1 Crush. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I assumed he was ticked off by the teasings. Or he could be skittish because he has a boyfriend and he did not need that kind of gossip milling about. So that was why I leapt to the conclusion that he was bothered by it and he was avoiding me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him why he was quiet. It took a while but he finally replied and he said that he had nothing to say to me. I guess I was right. My fairy tale had come to an end. Or so I think. I was upset. It did not help that my mom was making my life hell when I went back to my hometown during the weekend. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally decided to ask him upfront. Was he really bothered by the teasing? He said he did not mind. He said he was simply busy. I did not believe him. It had to bother him to be teased for something like this. I am no prize, I know that. He, on the other hand, is a great catch. Sigh, yet again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to kinda leave him alone after that. And I so did not guilt trip him at all. However, the next day, he started messaging me like evevrything was fine and nothing had happened. In fact, he asked me out. Okay, technically he did not. We were talking about breaking fast. He wanted some sushi and I asked him whether he was he preferred Sushi King or Genki Sushi. He said he doesn't know but he goes to Genki more often. I said I haven't had Genki and he should take me there some time. He agreed. He said he was breaking fast with some friends that night (yesterday nite) so he wanted to take me out tonite! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's right. I am seeing him for dinner tonight! Yay! Wish me luck! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2703385012570803525?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2703385012570803525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2703385012570803525&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2703385012570803525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2703385012570803525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/09/where-wild-things-are.html' title='Where the Wild Things are'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-4663080233594030841</id><published>2007-09-10T21:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T21:59:06.687+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Superstar</title><content type='html'>And now, for the bad stuff… see, I am of looking at things from every angle and not just from a peachy keen, lovey dovey manner…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything was perfect. He was nice, funny, romantic, cute, handsome, adorable and he even paid for dinner. Which was wrong coz technically I was supposed to pay. I am the older one and I was the one that asked him out, not the other way around. Me likey…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has a boyfriend. I do seem to attract the ones with boyfriends huh? Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had always knew he had one but I guess it never really registered until I was on the date with him. I had asked him to go to a somewhat closer place and he said that his boyfriend works there and he really did not want us to be bumping into him. Which was a little weird to me because if we were going out in the capacity of ‘friends’, the boyfriend would have known about it and would not have minded if we bumped into him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, he insisted so we went elsewhere. Then, during the drive back to my place, his phone rang but he did not pick up. He said it was someone from another country who kept bugging him. Then his phone rang again, this time a different ring tone. He did not pick up or even bother checking the phone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him about it and he dismissed it entirely and just said that it was the boyfriend. Another weird. It seemed like we were on an actual date and that the boyfriend had no idea what was going on. I like the first part of that sentence but the second part just made me out to be some sort of man-stealing tramp. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ordinarily I don’t mind that coz I have played with many, many ‘married’ guys but this is a legitimate crush and I did not meet him when I (or him) was cruising for some action. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, he said yes to the date. It’s not like he was forced into it. Right? Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this mean that this was an actual date? Especially with that SMS at the end of the night? Only time will tell I guess. Don’t wanna put my hopes up but I was all smiles the next day. Sigh…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-4663080233594030841?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/4663080233594030841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=4663080233594030841&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4663080233594030841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/4663080233594030841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/09/superstar.html' title='Superstar'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-106589626216748797</id><published>2007-09-07T20:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T20:06:02.737+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Who Are You</title><content type='html'>So the date went smoothly. Not stuttering or anything. There were definite signs that this was not just a one sided thing. But I refuse to be optimistic. I have been burned before, for playing with custom-made Navy matches. This time, it’s heavy duty firestarter. Any small spark could cause a ripple effect and everything would be engulfed in flames.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, here are the blow-by-blow (not literally) account of the date. I stayed an extra hour in the office because we were supposed to meet at 8. I left by 7 because the air conditioning had been turned off, if not I’d stay longer. I SMSed #1 Crush and told him I was on my way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived at 7.40pm. I waited 10 minutes before I message him. He called me just before 8, saying that he was parked on the other side of the road. Dear God, I had forgotten how sexy his deep manly voice was. Sigh. With bats in my stomach, I made my way across the street. Had a serious case of hyperventilation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to a fast food chain for dinner. He wanted to order food but ran it by me to see if I wanted to share it with him. Either it was the sweetest thing or he just doesn’t eat that much or he is used to sharing his food with people. Hmmm… anyways, we ordered chicken wings (which he had indicated he wanted to have since the afternoon), soup of the day (which he also wanted and kinda talked me into it as well), the seafood platter (which I really wanted but he did not because he just had an allergic reaction to something the day before and he is still recovering but he wolfed down half the plate anyways) and we had a pitcher of Pepsi (I asked for pitcher, he asked for Pepsi even though he don’t really drink carbonated stuff coz it gives him the hiccups).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked about everything and anything. Childhood stuff. Growing up stuff. My time in America. His life before we met. Did I mention he is soooo cute and have the cheekbones so high it could touch the sky? Sigh…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, whilst we did all the talking and chatting, there was also flirtatious banter going back and forth. Definitely Sex &amp; The City territory. I blushed many, many times. Not that he could see it coz I am dark-skinned but I was blushing like crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, we were at a loss of what to do next. He did not want to send me off just yet. I did not wanna go home either. So we drove around for a while, just talking and singing along to his mixed CD of sappy love songs by male vocalists. Well, he was singing. I was recording him using my phone. Did I mention that he has a nice sexy deep manly voice? He could be reading the phone book and I’d be all horny… heheheh…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, Endless Love came on and we did a duet. I was Diana Ross of course. Somehow I always ended up singing the female bits whenever there’s a duet. Anyways, I normally don’t sing in front of strangers but I went ahead and sang with him. Showed how comfortable I was with him. Okay, so I wanna have his babies, what’s the big?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we were near my area, I asked if he wanted to hang out more. He declined, citing that he had to go pick up someone. He promised that we’d go out again. I asked him to turn on the lights in the car so that I could take his picture. Yup, I’d been trying to snap him but the highway was dark. After I got a nice clear pic, I asked him to lean up to me and snap a pic of us together. After a handshake, he drove off and I walked back to my flat thus ending one of the nicest date I’ve ever had in all my 21 years of living… okay, okay… 25… fine, 29… good God, a lady is never supposed to reveal her age. Lucky I ain’t a lady eh…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, about an hour later, he called me. However, I was in the other room and my phone was on silent mode so I did not hear the call. Since I did not pick up, he sent me an SMS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“R u asleep already? Don’t masturbate to those pix k? Hehe. Good nite and thanx for the lovely nite. Sorry we did not get to go anywhere. There wasn’t enough time. We’ll do this again ok?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O. M. G. O. D. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’d only bother sending a follow up SMS if I really like the guy. I hope he sent the message coz he likes me…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-106589626216748797?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/106589626216748797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=106589626216748797&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/106589626216748797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/106589626216748797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/09/who-are-you.html' title='Who Are You'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-155897776220316846</id><published>2007-09-04T20:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T20:08:20.953+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>This Year's Girl</title><content type='html'>Yup, crush on #1 Crush not lessening, even after four days of not being in touch. When I say ‘in touch’, I mean chatting on YM or email. Yes, we haven’t formally exchanged numbers. I don’t want to rush into it. I wanna take it slow. He is actually taken AKA has a boyfriend. I don’t wanna wreck a disco (as opposed to a masjid for the normal straight Muslim couple) and I am not even sure if he feels anything for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early Monday morning, as soon as I sat myself down at the office cubicle and turned on my YM, his message window immediately popped up, scaring the snot out of me. He said that I’d been so quiet lately and he asked me what was up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last we chatted was on Wednesday, last week. He had been asking to read my blog. Not this one. The other one. I had told him that I was revamping the blog and it would not be ready until later. He pouted and kept asking for it. I did not wanna reveal my sexploits that way to him. That’s what deathbeds are for! I wanna have something special with this one, even though that might not happen and toning down the crazy is the way to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, he asked me one final time before he abruptly logged off and went home. Did not like how that ended. What if that was the last time we’d ever spoken and we left it hanging like that? Not acceptable. He did not even chat with me on Thursday, even though I sent him a message. Sigh. I did not think he’d be this petulant. This is why I need to shy away from the younger ones. Lucky for me, my friends and I have a Merdeka BBQ that night so I took the afternoon off to go make food and prepare stuff. I was kinda busy and forced myself to be busy coz when I stopped for one second, my mind would wander back to #1 Crush and I’d remember the last thing we did – me denying his repeated requests for my blog, and him abruptly logging off – and I did not like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when he messaged me Monday morning and said that, I did not really know what to think. I guess he was not really bothered by me not giving my blog and that he was not really petulant after all. He was probably just busy that day. Phew. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were chatting up a storm on YM. I have nothing to do at work so I could chat my fingers off. He has work to do but he insisted that he could still chat. As long as he doesn’t get into trouble… so after a while of chatting, I asked him out. For dinner. I know, I know. He’s taken but we could just go out in the capacity of friends. Or not. Whichever one works. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He turned me down again. Yes, I’ve asked before. Persistent bugger, that is me. I know he had to go do something with his car Monday night so he could not have dinner with me. He said his Tuesday night was also full. I was beginning to sense a rejection coming so I stopped asking directly and went with another approach. I just asked him if he’d passed by Midvalley or Times Square during his commute. He said he did not and he did not like to go into KL to brave the traffic. He also mentioned that his nights were mostly spent with his straight friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great. Another rejection. So I just told him to not mind me and just continue to chat about something else. But then, he said that he’s free Wednesday. The boyfriend’s working nights so he could go out and enjoy himself. Did he just ask me out on Wednesday? I think he did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I squeal like a high school girl just asked to the prom, I asked him the venue. Stumper. We did not know how to meet up. Sigh. There goes the date. He then just volunteered to take the train to Times Square since everywhere else is a lot harder. I told him to not do that because it’s troublesome for him but he insisted. Made a girl feel special…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, I got a very good idea. I could take the train to where he’s staying and then he’d pick me up and we could go to a hypermarket nearby where there’d be restaurants. He concurred. But he said “OK lor…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dude, if you don’t want to, just say so. I maybe head over heels in love with you, I don’t need and/or want pity date. But he insisted that he wanted it. Really. Okay. Girl goes to prom scream time. *gurly shriek*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone finger me coz I think I am dreaming. No, not three fingers. One’s fine. Thank you. Dear God, is this really happening? I know I should take it easy and not overreact and really have to work on not thinking too much into it. But I can’t help it. If I were in his shoes, I’d never go out with me. At least not without a group setting. Definitely not one-on-one. Yup, I know he knows I fancy him. My friends were sooooo not subtle when they were teasing me about my crush, right in front of him and #1 Crush is definitely not dumb. Just young and full of cum… heheheh… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cannot wait for Wednesday night. God, I hope I don’t stutter… Wish me luck!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-155897776220316846?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/155897776220316846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=155897776220316846&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/155897776220316846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/155897776220316846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/09/this-years-girl.html' title='This Year&apos;s Girl'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1779455211539554968</id><published>2007-09-01T04:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T04:49:35.891+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cuties'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>Goodbye Iowa</title><content type='html'>My crush on #1 Crush is not showing signs of lessening. It’s getting more intense by the minute. He is not making things easy for me (not on purpose, I don’t think). If I don’t email him in the morning, he’d email me first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had been asking for my YM. Apparently chatting is easier than emailing. I think emailing is the way to go so that it could be drawn out for a longer period of time. Hehehhehe… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I added him to my YM the night before and I turned on my YM at work, after much encouragement by the receptionist. His ID says he was offline but less than a minute after I turned on my YM, he sent me a message. We’ve been chatting for the better part of the afternoon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I mentioned that he is cute? Even when chatting and/or emailing? Sighh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1779455211539554968?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1779455211539554968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1779455211539554968&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1779455211539554968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1779455211539554968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/09/goodbye-iowa.html' title='Goodbye Iowa'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2418610740570213732</id><published>2007-08-27T20:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T20:30:13.992+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love Life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chaser'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='#1 Crush'/><title type='text'>The I in Team</title><content type='html'>What a weekend. Hectic is an understatement. Lessee… went bowling Friday night. Karaoke on Saturday. Birthday party on Sunday + bowling. That doesn’t include the shopping in between activities (for our BBQ bash on the eve of Merdeka). Plus, there some guy actions. Yes, I am sporting two huge pimples on my face now. I am hoping they would be reduced to small mounds before Tuesday…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, remember the &lt;a href="http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/08/hush.html"&gt;SA Guy&lt;/a&gt; (Crush#2) I was crushing on? He was the cute one that I had just seen once or twice but was immediately smitten? He was there at the birthday party and he and I spent some quality time together. Just chatting and talking and fooling around. Um, maybe not fooling around but joking around. Oh. My. God. He is sooooo… and now I am soooo… sigh…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let’s put reverse on and wind back. I first met him online. He had a profile in Myspace. Or at least I think that was him. It was lust at first sight. Then I think I chatted with him once or twice in IRC. I met him in person last February at a friend’s birthday party. Kinda did not really notice him at first. Okay, so I noticed him but I did not realize that it was him (let’s call him #1 Crush from now on ala Garbage and Romeo&amp;Juliet). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months later, that same friend asked for three tickets to Harry Potter. I originally thought he was taking his boyfriend and another friend but he ended bringing #1 Crush instead of the boyfriend. I was kinda psyched and kinda freaking out. This friend, HC, arrived at Starbucks, where Teddy (can’t call him Onemus anymore) and I were chilling, alone. We asked where the Significant Other is and he said SO is at campus. #1 Crush was joining us. What the… son of a… and I did not put make up on or anything… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept it cool but I was a nervous wreck and was shaking inside. I kinda avoided him and he was being a little bit quiet too so it worked out for the best. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Harry Plopper, I did not meet him in person until last Sunday. But I did communicate with him via email. I suggested to the group that we should go away for the Merdeka holidays but it ended up scrapped for a BBQ bash instead. So we’ve been emailing each other a lot over the last month or so. I noticed that there is a familiar name amongst the list of recipients but I did nothing about it. Yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the email discussions, came the email forwards. One day, I received an email forward from #1 Crush. At least I think it was him. So I replied, but in regards to said forward, not because of anything else. He replied and thus began our email communication. He said that he was kinda quiet on Harry Potter night because he did not really know us and he said that he’d be a whole different man once I got to know him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is true because he was very different at the party. Very nice. Very funny. Very cute. Very adorable. I am drooling. I know. I can’t help it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s this running gag amongst my friends about me and the kitchen. If there were events, I’d always be in the kitchen. I was in the kitchen yesterday and so was #1 Crush. I had been asked to cut the cake and distribute it to the guests. He was helping me with the softest cake on Earth. At one point, he was tasting a piece and I asked him for a taste as well. He fed it to me, mostly coz my hands were full. I was kinda hesitant and took like a tiny bite but he held it for me to take it all so I got it all in my mouth and my lips brushed against his fingers. OMG! We just went to… what base is that? I don’t care. In some cultures, we are married already! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Teddy happened to go into the kitchen and saw it and said inappropriate, not subtle things and I am sure that #1 Crush knows that I am into him. All of my friends did what Teddy did actually. Going around trying to let him know, unsubtly, that I like him. It was kinda embarrassing. Especially since #1 Crush has a boyfriend! And I don’t even know if he is even into me or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooooh, did I mention that he asked me to go swimming with him? There’s a pool at our friend’s place and he wanted to go swimming. I said I could not and he offered to teach me. It’s funny coz I was flirting with him a bit during this email phase and I told him that he’d need to do CPR on me if I drown and he said I could easily float and he could hang on to me for dear life. I told him I oughta hang on to him since he could swim and he said we’d both fall to the bottom of the pool and there’d be no one to do CPR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him that I’d do a Jack and let Rose, I mean, #1 Crush float up and be alive. I know, I know. Corny. Sigh…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I asked if he brought swimwear that day, he said he left it at home so he was going to have to go swimming naked and said that I needed to be there. Oh God. Excuse me. Toilet. Now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He actually went with this other guy and he went up to me and invited me to join. Unfortunately, it would be suspect that I would go along, in my shirt and jeans to the pool. So I stayed. Plus I actually came with someone else (at the last minute) so I could not really leave him to the wolves, I mean, bears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he returned from swimming, he asked me why I did not join. I thought he was just kidding about it but he was not apparently. He wanted me there. And he was washing a very tiny dark blue speedo when he said that. Damn my date and my principals!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, oh, during the karaoke sessions, both of us were standing at the side near the kitchen and I told him to go sing and he said his voice was girly and not nice. He sang along to one song and I became putty. Dude’s got a sexy singing voice. Okay, so anything he does is gold to me. Sue me. But seriously, I do tend to do this to myself right? Fall for unavailable men and break my own heart in the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not even sleep last night, thinking of #1 Crush, even though there was someone else in the bed with me. Oops, did I say that out loud? Heheheheh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2418610740570213732?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2418610740570213732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2418610740570213732&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2418610740570213732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2418610740570213732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-in-team.html' title='The I in Team'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2855310067362182567</id><published>2007-08-23T20:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T20:20:00.684+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>A New Man</title><content type='html'>I have this condition. I don’t really know the scientific term for it. I’ve noticed it for a while now. At first I was scared, I was petrified. I kept thinking I could not show my face when I am afflicted with it. But now I’m used to it and I don’t really freak out as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I have sex, my face breaks out. Not too much though. Just one or two. But they’re huge and normally on the chin, near the mouth. Yup, that’s right. Fuck acne is what Onemus said, ever so bluntly. I say they’re sex pimples. Sounds much better and more innocent right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I don’t even have to tell them that I had sex. They’d look at my face and would know I’ve had sex by that huge ass pimple on my face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don’t understand it. What’s the correlation between having sex and pimples? Maybe my hormones went into overdrive as soon as I am horny and sexed up and that unleashes a chain reaction and the pimple hormones get triggered and would show up in the morning? Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It never fails to show up. But I have noticed varying degree in sizes and intensity of the pimple. If I have very little interaction with the guy AKA immediately plugging his butt, then the pimple would not be as huge. If I have a full on session AKA kiss, lick, suck and fuck, then it would be as huge as Mount Kinabalu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, sometimes, it doesn’t happen that way. I just had a massive full on session and only the smallest citizen of Pimpledom came out to greet the world. Is there a way to stop me from breaking out every time I have sex? Not that I have sex that often… and there is a big one on my face now…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2855310067362182567?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2855310067362182567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2855310067362182567&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2855310067362182567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2855310067362182567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/08/new-man.html' title='A New Man'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-7911800701563949905</id><published>2007-08-18T23:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T23:13:42.208+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chaser'/><title type='text'>Doomed</title><content type='html'>My friends think I am engaged in a war of words with this one new guy that’s been hanging out with us a lot. Apparently, according to them, we would kiss and make up soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know how this all started. I was pretty much minding my own business and not really getting in his face. As far ranking go, I am very low in the group’s dynamics. Pretty much like the last group I was with but at least this time I don’t have to pay a monthly subscription and we’re all really are friends because we want to be friends, not just friends through association. Oooh, I am so getting into trouble for saying that… but it’s the truth…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, yeah, I am just a lowly guy who no one ever notices. Seriously. Walking with Prof Karen Walker and Onemus is like self confidence suicide. What am I talking about? It is confidence suicide. Both are pretty, nice, intelligent creatures that would charm the pants off of anyone. Then there’s the other one, the more senior guy amongst us. He is constantly surrounded by them cute boys. Another confidence killer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I find hanging with these guys is just nice. Everybody’s fawning over them and forgetting about lil ol’ me, which is good coz I am kinda shy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, so this newbie would not, should not even notice me. Unfortunately, not only has he noticed me, he has also started this war of words with me. Not really in person but via the daily communiqué that the lot of us engage in. In one particular email, he said something very hurtful. If coming from the others, then it might not have stung as much coz I know them and they know me and we always jest about such things. But this guy? Barely know him and yet he’s already in the game, saying mean things to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Prof seems to think that I project a happy-go-fucky, I mean, lucky attitude and the new guy must’ve thought that I could take it. Hey, I’ve taken it like a man! I’ve taken it from my mom! From the Prof! From Onemus! And of course from some guys, ehhehehe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In person, he turns slightly meek and not really into warring. I noticed him staring at me once in a great while during bowling but that only meant that he was trying to see how I throw and would attempt to copy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he said the weirdest things to me. One time, he asked me if I had a PSP on me, and if I do have one, he’d be my boyfriend right there and then. Another time, he asked loudly, and in front of everyone, the reason why I am still car-less and still renting and not owning my own place. Then he’d try to engage me in a knowledge duel about medieval weaponry. Just coz I said I liked medieval weaponry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there’s one time, he told me to knock off the American accent. He also asked me if I was blonde. I think Stevie Wonder would have known that I have natural black hair and I did not attempt to gain artificial intelligence by dyeing my blonde hair black. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that he is doing all of this? Trying to knock me down, in front of everybody. The Prof also seems to think that the newbie is kinda into me and I am into him. Um, not with that kind of attitude, that’s for sure. Methinks he is too hung up on security and too materialistic and he is not ashamed in showing that off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this one email he sent out about his ‘The One’ and Onemus mentioned that he was describing me and he responded by saying “I think he is the farthest from being my ‘The One’. Okay, so that was not verbatim, but that was the gist. So I guess the Prof is not exactly correct in his presumption. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know he’s not going to go away anytime soon. So I just have to grin and bear it and hoped that he’ll get bored taunting me. Or I could just escalate the war and fight back. See how he likes it when this gurl starts slinging barbs. Oh wait, I’ve already begun. Hehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pen is mightier than the sword people say. Wait, the penis mightier than the sword? Really? :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-7911800701563949905?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/7911800701563949905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=7911800701563949905&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7911800701563949905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/7911800701563949905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/08/doomed.html' title='Doomed'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-2169387361415549997</id><published>2007-08-15T23:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T23:10:09.591+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crush'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hot Guy'/><title type='text'>Hush</title><content type='html'>Crush. An intense yet short lived infatuation. These past couple of months, I have been crushing quite a lot. Does this mean I am easy? Or am I just slutty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crush #1 – Chinese Guy from Maluri with a sexy voice. &lt;br /&gt;I chatted with him early this year but we only got to meet up in June. He invited me to a ‘party’, ehehehe. From the MMS that he sent, he seemed like a kid but he was the same age as me. 21. Add 8 more years. Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he kept insisting on meeting my other chub friends. So it was a turn off early on. However, since he was the one organizing the party, I decided to join. Man, I wished I would have joined earlier. Hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is tall. Me likey. Not too quick on the uptake though but maybe he’s just not used to American humor. Not many people are. But he has a boyfriend. Or he’s divorcing one boyfriend and wants to shack up with another. So I just get to play during that tiny window of singledom. Sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crush #2 – Cute Malay Guy from Shah Alam&lt;br /&gt;I have chatted with him before and I was on his Myspace, before I deleted that profile. Now, he’s disappeared from Myspace. Dammit. But I got to meet him when my friends and I went to watch Harry Plopper and the Order of the Jean Grey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was extremely cute, quiet, unassuming and did I mention extremely cute? I knew who he was immediately. But I was kinda shy so I just kept it to myself. Teddy, who apparently was not crushing on anyone, totally engaged me in a conversational duel, right in front of him. I was kinda embarrassed but I sucked it up and acted normally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention he is extremely cute? A bit shorter than me though. It’s okay, I’ll just bend my knees if I wanna kiss him… oh, oops, my bad… fantasy stuff in my head…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I got a little break and a little luck later on because my friends and I are planning something for the Merdeka weekend and his email was included in the discussion. Slightly later on, I got a bunch of forwards from my friends and I got one from him. Or so I thought it was him. I asked, he confirmed and we’ve been emailing each other back and forth. *gurly shrieks*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, he is in a loving relationship… so I just get to crush on him and just ogle. Sigh. The boyfriend is such a lucky bitch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crush #3 – The Malay Guy from Tun Razak&lt;br /&gt;The one that came over on Monday. The one from Guys4Men. He is as tall as me. Nice. Cute. Knows how to please a man. Hehehehe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the reason I got crushed was because he stuck around afterwards. He knows songs that I know. Yup, he checked out my iTunes and remembers the old songs from my childhood. He smelled nice. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention Cute Cashier Guy and the tall dude from my office… sigh…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-2169387361415549997?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/2169387361415549997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=2169387361415549997&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2169387361415549997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/2169387361415549997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/08/hush.html' title='Hush'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-1131106816596962928</id><published>2007-08-14T21:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T21:35:30.224+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fag Hags'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cuties'/><title type='text'>Something Blue</title><content type='html'>Lunch time is quite the big deal around here, especially since we have to wait until 1.30 before we get to eat. There are plenty of choices around here but after a while, they would all taste the same anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve even made some lunch for myself, just to shake things up. So far, I’ve managed to cook up some pasta with tomato-based sauce and chicken soup with potatoes and white rice. I am trying to expand my repertoire pretty soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is one restaurant that seems to be the receptionist’s favorite. I don’t really mind going there. The food is not bad but sometimes it takes 45 minutes for a simple kuey tiaw soup to arrive. The waiters made it nicer to be there though. One cute guy looked exactly like one cute Malay actor but he’s hardly around anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The crème de la crème has got to be the cashier. I think he’s new. Not so sure. Have not seen him before until a couple of months ago. Very cute, very adorale. I mean, adorable. I just wanna bite his cheeks. The ones on his face. When I say face, I mean his face. And when I say face, I don’t mean his ass. He sits behind the cashier counter all day long! How could I get a glimpse of his ass??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we had been flimiling (flirting and smiling) with each other for a while now but I have no idea what to call him. So one day, I got the receptionist to ask for his name and he replied. I thought he was kidding. His name is the same as the Malay singer that won AF and is now called SMS King. I did not believe and asked for ID. He showed it to me but I did not really get a good look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The receptionist was shocked that the boy was willingly showing me his ID. I mean, come on dude, it’s not like he dropped trou and whipped it out for me to see. It’s just ID. So after that, we would just have this fleeting mini flimiling moments at the cash register where I’d take the chance to touch his hand when I take change and he would always smile at that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, after a long absence, we went back to that restaurant. He was there, as per usual, being all cute and dark. Oh, did I mention that he has the nicest, deepest, most romantic eyes? Sigh. Hang on. Drool’s all over the keyboard. *wipes*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we went to pay, the receptionist talked to him. I did not really get the gist of what they were talking about but suddenly he exclaimed that he thinks I am handsome. Out of the blue. Of course I blushed crimson. *gurly shriek!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The receptionist gave me a disbelieving look. The cute guy just stood there smiling. I paid up and flashed him my most dazzling smile and then left. The receptionist pestered me, kept asking me what was going on, whether cute cashier guy has turned to the fag side. I can’t really say now can I? She insisted that he is a fag coz he proclaimed loudly that I was handsome. No one’s ever called me handsome. *swoons*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Update:&lt;/strong&gt; The receptionist went downstairs at 5 to buy some bread for dinner and she stopped by the restaurant and actually told him that I said hi. He blushed crimson! According to her that is. But I did make her swear that she was telling the truth or her boyfriend’s penis would remain flaccid for eternity. She swore. Guess it’s true. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Update #2:&lt;/strong&gt; We went for lunch at the restaurant today and yes, the cute guy smiled at me enthusiastically. This time, the receptionist asked for his number and said that I was asking for his number. He asked why at first but then he gave it to her to give me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-1131106816596962928?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/1131106816596962928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=1131106816596962928&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1131106816596962928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/1131106816596962928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/08/something-blue.html' title='Something Blue'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-5946828965942422659</id><published>2007-08-13T01:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T01:18:35.949+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Meme'/><title type='text'>Pangs</title><content type='html'>Fable Frog tagged me. Yay! I hardly ever get tagged. I see Onemus and Prof Karen Walker snickering… tagged as in Blog Memes okay? Not the other kind. Get your minds out of the gutter. And they say I am highly sexual. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The rules of this tag:&lt;br /&gt;1. Link to your tagger and post these rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. List eight (8) random facts about yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Tag eight people at the end of your post and list their names (linking to them).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Let them know they’ve been tagged by leaving them a comment on their blogs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Fact #1&lt;br /&gt;My mother is a distant relative to the Sultan of Pahang, so that means I do have a fraction of royalty in my blood. Not that it really matters though…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Fact #2&lt;br /&gt;I lost my virginity at the ripe old age of 21&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Fact #3&lt;br /&gt;The most expensive thing I own is Harry, my laptop, and he is now in ICU. *sobs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Fact #4&lt;br /&gt;I was cast in an indie movie that my friend was working on but I had to go back to Malaysia for the summer so I had to pass. I could have been the next Halle Berry or Nicole Kidman. Dayymmn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Fact #5&lt;br /&gt;My highest score for bowling was 202. Second highest was 201. I got those in 2001. I’ve never scratched past the 200 mark since. The closest I got was 180+.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Fact #5&lt;br /&gt;I used to wet my bed until I was 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Fact #6&lt;br /&gt;The longest relationship I had lasted for slightly over a year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Fact #7&lt;br /&gt;I’ve dated (as in going out with, not ONS) with Malaysians (Malays, Chinese, Indians), Caucasians (American, German, Swedish, Kosovo) and Latino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Fact #8&lt;br /&gt;I am using Nokia 7610, the same one I had since 2004, which is also my first ever firsthand cell phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so that’s that. Now I have to pass on the curse, I mean, the meme to 8 other bloggers. Hmmm, I don’t think I know of other bloggers who read my blog, other than &lt;a href="http://bibiknyonya.blogspot.com/"&gt;Vivik&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://afrogpointsofview.blogspot.com/"&gt;Floggie&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://bedstory.blogspot.com/"&gt;Paul&lt;/a&gt;. But I am sure someone has already tagged them. Maybe &lt;a href="http://huggyteddy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Onemus&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href="http://musang-api.blogspot.com/"&gt;Musang&lt;/a&gt;… ooh, let's get &lt;a href="http://oxystence.blogspot.com/"&gt;Holden&lt;/a&gt; to do it... &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/3383104308366276571-5946828965942422659?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/5946828965942422659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=5946828965942422659&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5946828965942422659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/5946828965942422659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/08/pangs.html' title='Pangs'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-406254441069988685</id><published>2007-08-08T23:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T23:55:31.314+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life'/><title type='text'>The Initiative</title><content type='html'>On Sunday, I went to the PC Fair with Prof Karen Walker at KL Convention Center. There were literally thousands of people. Plenty of eye candy for the Prof and me to ogle at. And plenty of opportunities for copping a feel. What? They came and rested their ass on my palm! What was I supposed to do? Push them away? No way! It was so round and smooth and fluffy and tight… um, lost my train of thought…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yeah. PC Fair. The Prof bought an all-in-one printer for 199 and I applied for Maxis Broadband. It cost me 100 bucks to register, activate and get the modem. Okay, it cost the Prof 100 bucks but I’ll pay him back. He is not my sugar daddy. The sugar daddy role belongs to me remember. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, they said I could use it as soon as I got home that night. However, my laptop, Harry, is violently ill. He could not even start up anymore. So I gotta wait until I take the office laptop home. Also, they warned me that I might not be able to enjoy the Internet that well because I live on the 15th floor. Might not even get to use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a chance. Yesterday, I brought the laptop home and it worked! Teddy AKA Onemus Prime, proclaimed that there was nothing stopping me now from going totally slutty. I told him that’s not the case. I wanted Internet connection at home so that I can check my messages more frequently. And maybe do some downloading. I wonder if I could download porn, I mean, TV show episodes. Hmm…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, after 10 minutes of being online, I got a buzz from Guys4Men. From a guy who lived in Bandar Tun Razak, which was near my place. After a few messages back and forth, he said he wanted to come over. It was already 11.30. I thought he was kidding. He showed up at my place and we hung out until 1.30 in the morning. Yes, we just hung out. Nothing happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I am so lying through my teeth. Of course something happened. But I never would have known that anything were to happen because his profile was vague and he had never mentioned that he likes his men meaty. Or chubby. So I thought he just wanted to chat or something. Naïve me. As soon as he arrived, he lied down on the couch and positioned me between his legs. With his crotch just inches away from my face, I mean, hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was still the naïve, virginal blond so I just let it be and continued talking. That is until he took my hand and forcefully placing it on his crotch. And the rest, as they say, is history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Onemus was right. I will be getting sluttier and sluttier by the minute. Dammit. But I think that was just beginner’s luck. I am sure it’ll die down by tonight and I’ll go back to being alone and pining for someone for company.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-406254441069988685?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/406254441069988685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=406254441069988685&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/406254441069988685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/406254441069988685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/08/initiative.html' title='The Initiative'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383104308366276571.post-389540259726499367</id><published>2007-08-06T22:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T22:21:47.660+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love Life'/><title type='text'>Wild At Heart</title><content type='html'>I am spending the night at one guy’s place on Friday. He sent me a message via Bearforest in April. We’ve been keeping in touch ever since. No, we haven’t met yet because he is too busy, working in sales so he works nearly 7 days a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he met with an accident and broke his hand. So our meeting got pushed back. Finally, I suggested we meet and spend the night at either my place or his place and get this dating ship moving. He agreed and we’ve set the date for Friday. Originally, it was supposed to be on Sunday but his company suddenly told him he could take Friday off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’d been planning for a Sunday meet so now our plan is whacked. He has dentist appointment Monday early morning so we decided to meet Friday, after I finished work. We’re gonna have dinner and maybe watch a movie or something, then go to his place. He works in Brickfields so he can swing by KL Sentral and drops me off in the morning. Yup, he works on weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is kinda cute. Tall. Older than me. Matured. However, he just got his heart broken by someone and that raises an alarm for me. My track record has not been that good and I keep attracting these kinds of people. I would always end up getting hurt and they would go off without a scratch. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don’t wanna go into this with my defensive shields up but I guess I don’t really have a choice. I too have my battle scars. Ooh, I just downloaded this one song from Geri Halliwell called Love Never Loved Me. Telling my life story. I won’t give up on love. What doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger. Oh, I think I hear my heart pounding from the anticipation…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3383104308366276571-389540259726499367?l=bitchedwild.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/feeds/389540259726499367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3383104308366276571&amp;postID=389540259726499367&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/389540259726499367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3383104308366276571/posts/default/389540259726499367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitchedwild.blogspot.com/2007/08/wild-at-heart.html' title='Wild At Heart'/><author><name>Evan Owens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04331453203884188856</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ldvLaA5w-8o/SyEOspWiHXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/YNhe523Z2cY/S220/151fs198446.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
