<?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-4862719427993634040</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:21:40.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TESTBLOG</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ethan.ohmytian.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4862719427993634040/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ethan.ohmytian.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ziai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AkhmAbgd6Tk/S8HqO033XYI/AAAAAAAAADU/zczycwQYnII/S220/ad.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4862719427993634040.post-1640963592074929050</id><published>2007-09-08T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T11:23:01.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'VE FINALLY DECIDED ON MY TOPIC! It's not blogging, it's not idolizing, it's not my trip to Japan, neither is it Jay Chou, do you know what is it? NO YOU DON'T! Hahahahahahaha. It's gonna be a surprise cos... The best prize is a SURPRISE! kekeke. OOPS. Anyway, I assure you it's gonna be interesting (hopefully), and it's going to be useful for you! So look forward to it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 78%;"&gt;(and all you pesky little thots who know, shhhhh. It's a BU NENG SHUO DE MI MI!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. what happened today. Lang arts was slack, Art was slacker (on a side note, YAY MR LIM IS GOING TO BE OUR ART TEACHER AGAIN!), Music was interesting, if only all teachers were like Mr Matthew Lim; Science was as boring as usual, we learnt about volts; dance was fine and class contact time was normal. Hahaha when piggy and I were changing into PE attires during lunch, piggy noticed that the toliet roll holder thingy is 20V, which I don't get why cos it doesn't require electricity to operate... Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lalala I'm obviously high now, for some unknown reason. SOOOOO. I'm off to chill! BYE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4862719427993634040-1640963592074929050?l=ethan.ohmytian.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ethan.ohmytian.com/feeds/1640963592074929050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4862719427993634040&amp;postID=1640963592074929050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4862719427993634040/posts/default/1640963592074929050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4862719427993634040/posts/default/1640963592074929050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ethan.ohmytian.com/2007/09/ive-finally-decided-on-my-topic-its-not.html' title=''/><author><name>ziai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AkhmAbgd6Tk/S8HqO033XYI/AAAAAAAAADU/zczycwQYnII/S220/ad.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4862719427993634040.post-7368608026614897312</id><published>2007-09-07T01:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T01:51:12.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Evening approaches as she began her daily laundry. Gathering the clothes; she starts to iron them. Straightening the wrinkles from the shirt; erasing the aftermath from the washing machine. Never in her life she regrets doing them. Believing those were her responsibility and commitment towards the family. In fact, she enjoys it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She smiles a little. "Nice taste he have there", she whispers to herself. That shirt was newly brought by his son, Ryan. Not from any famous or expensive brand, but rather affordable with stunning design. It’s like finding a needle in a stack of hay. Perhaps a little over elaborating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking back, he's now all grown up. No longer a crybaby that needed spoon-feed. Able to judge on what's right and not. Responsible for his own actions. He's now 22 of age. Working in a local company, earning an impressive salary. Regardless on how old he is, to her mom, he's still a kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, he's still single at the moment. Like every parents dream, she wishes to see her son building a family of his own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom...", a voice suddenly appear in the living room. That was Ryan, wearing grey long sleeves turtle neck attire matching a dark cargo pants. He added, "I’m going off for a movie with Jane."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said happily, "Dating? When are you gonna bring her home? Don’t be shy ba, you are..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not much of a surprise to her as she's been expecting it. Saturday is the usual night out for him. She won’t interrupt her son's social life as long as he doesn’t indulge himself with danger. Or anything that could possibly harm himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He instantly replies, "We are just normal friend. By the way, im gonna be late tonight, so don’t stay up and wait for me. Okay, im going off, she's waiting. Bye mom"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Everything begins with a friendship. Just like your dad and me.  Enjoy your night. Drive safely and take care"&lt;br /&gt;Putting on his favorite white sporty shoe, he's off from his house. Sliding into his car; turning on the air conditioner; playing his favorite album; he drove off to fetch her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its 2.30 in the morning. But still no sign of him coming home. Instead on hitting his son advise earlier on, she, like always stay up and wait for him to got home safely. For she cant have a good sleep worrying her about son. Unlike her, her husband was already in slumber land. Facing the television, switching from one channel to one channel, there isn’t any program that could interest her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A slight glance at the clock hung in the dining hall, its approaching 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picking up the phone, she gave him a call. Reminding him about the time. To her delight he respond, "Im now home, outside the house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moments later, she could hear the sounds of the key unlocking the lock and opening the gate. Follow closely by the sound of locking the gate. After a while, the door still wasn’t open. Thinking that he might be having difficulties, she moves toward to open the door to welcome him home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the door is open, there wasn’t anyone there. Silence. Except for the wind chime playing its own melody between the gate and the door. But where is he? "Is this a joke?” she question herself. Upon dialing the phone again, she saw his shoe on the rack at the living room. That was the shoe that he wore just now. No doubt it is. It wasn’t there just now. He wore it and how can it be displayed at the rack? No sign of any foul play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tooot, tooot.... tooot, tooot", was all she heard on her cell phone. She called again, and received the same response. No one is picking up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan walks towards her mom from behind and said, "Mom, im home"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn’t notice him. Perhaps he has already expected it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, "Im home..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4862719427993634040-7368608026614897312?l=ethan.ohmytian.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ethan.ohmytian.com/feeds/7368608026614897312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4862719427993634040&amp;postID=7368608026614897312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4862719427993634040/posts/default/7368608026614897312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4862719427993634040/posts/default/7368608026614897312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ethan.ohmytian.com/2007/09/evening-approaches-as-she-began-her.html' title=''/><author><name>ziai</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_AkhmAbgd6Tk/S8HqO033XYI/AAAAAAAAADU/zczycwQYnII/S220/ad.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
