<?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-2575727654207080267</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:32:46.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>T-Ooze</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575727654207080267/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ianthe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01484645173837014360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575727654207080267.post-3351709310423308219</id><published>2009-06-30T00:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T00:56:12.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dear Blog</title><content type='html'>I see thine precious face after a long lapse of time... :P&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry for not updating despite poisson's nearly constant nudgings.. I have been reading quite a few things.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Firstly, I read A Man Named Dave. At times I felt the writer was making too much of an effort.. that it's all sorta..umm.. contrived.. But I don't think I didn't like it... it basically is a story of a person who survives vicious abuse as a child.. and what i really liked about it is the inspiration part.. there are many, many kids who are abused.. or, at least, maltreated... by their parents, extended family, teachers and so many other people (God, kids are soo vulnerable.. I wish they were not.. or, I wish there was something I could do to protect them... ) and by reading Dave Pelzer's books, if nothing else, they can at least say 'If Dave did it, so can I'....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just started reading Atlas Shrugged this morning.. before that I was reading Sophie's World but stopped for no real reason...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;hmmm.. besides that I made jam tarts... ok, ok, I made them really long ago (i.e. before starting this blog, I think).... but I plan on making them again...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and I went out with poisson and one other friend.. for poisson's birthday....sadly, one of my friends could not come even though SHE was the one who planned it all out! However, I had a lottt of fun.. really, really enjoyed it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think that's all for the update, for now.. take care&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575727654207080267-3351709310423308219?l=t-ooze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/feeds/3351709310423308219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-dear-blog.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575727654207080267/posts/default/3351709310423308219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575727654207080267/posts/default/3351709310423308219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-dear-blog.html' title='My Dear Blog'/><author><name>Ianthe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01484645173837014360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575727654207080267.post-123434023173237067</id><published>2009-05-31T11:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T04:38:22.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I said we are going to have our Graduation Ceremony on the 30th</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;... let's talk about it first.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It was like having a sample, sneak-peak at our class. Anyone who could enter the ante-room where we were before the whole ceremony started could have known all about us and about our the past two years of our lives during that 1 hour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ive made a list of the highlights here:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; First Sn forgot the song she had to bring &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;(Graduation-Vitamin C, I believe)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Then Hn got the song but because of the '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;mixed signals'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;* she had had the previous day (ooh, I am soo angry) she got a USB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Mr TM, as always, chose to remember the signal that was not followed... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I was about to write sooo, sooo much more but somewhere along the road my parents had taught me not to backbite... so I am stopping here..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;UB1 was going around being the annoying guy.. and Hn said what she had said too many times in the past two years.. maira tumhara koi mazaq hai?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;UB2 came late &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Sn had problem finding a good, matching scarf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Some people wore sneakers with their suit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Half of the people wore tie-less suits&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; (this and the one above are comments I heard floating around.. so I don't take responsibility for their authenticity)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;M,Q got really mad at Mr. TM saying rude stuff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Mr. TM tried to cover it up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The ceremony was very disorganized... more like a last minute thing, I believe.. We did not have a Chief Guest.. not, as the parents were told, because the country needs the leaders more than a stupid grad ceremony.. but because the person responsible for it FORGOT ABOUT it... or did not care about it... Also the person who traditionally gives out the prizes was not there... most prolly (ok, I m being negative and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;badgumaan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; here..) because who can come on a day's notice...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;AA was chewing gum. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;People booed when their behated (I think I get credit for making this word)  person gave a speech.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Someone forgot someone (though all their lives they were supposed to be best of friends) in their speech.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Some people couldn't get over praising some people and then taking the credit for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;People said AAG was crying.. and said other stupid stuff like c'mon AAG you should stand up and clap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Fas was "embarrassed" when we were going up the hall.. and he told a random person to join the line of graduates and not shy about it.. lol.. and he felt someone looked like a "lecturaar" and like a "bookworm" in her graduates' attire :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Oh, and before I forget, people were fighting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;I understand why you can't believe it.. but, sadly, it's the truth!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Ok, you know what, I am not always as cynical/pessimistic.. (Did I tell you it was at this school that I met the most cynicalest woman ever) I really am not much of a complainer..In fact, most of the things here are what, for me, are the things that makes the whole experience so special and unique.. I mean, it's common to come across normal people.. but not many people have the privilege of belonging to a class of eccentrics. For one, I would never have had any juicy gossip to share with my sister... especially about Fas :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;So, I was saying that I actually enjoyed the whole ceremony because none of us had put up any pretenses just because it was the last day of our being together.. no one was fake (wink).. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The only thing that makes me mad is the 'mixed signals' thing. Ok, the thing is that I was working with Mr. TM on some project and he would give me a hundred different instructions... you know how you talk about different possibilities such as we could get it done this way, or that way, or that these ways etc....  Then, when I ended up doing my task 'this way' he would create a storm about why the work wasn't done that way... get it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;and to prove my point.. I will be write another piece soon! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Till then,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;cya!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575727654207080267-123434023173237067?l=t-ooze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/feeds/123434023173237067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-said-we-are-going-to-have-our.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575727654207080267/posts/default/123434023173237067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575727654207080267/posts/default/123434023173237067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-said-we-are-going-to-have-our.html' title='I said we are going to have our Graduation Ceremony on the 30th'/><author><name>Ianthe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01484645173837014360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575727654207080267.post-5496045293721437861</id><published>2009-05-31T10:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T12:03:27.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lemme Tell You About Us (Part 2)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;You might be thinking why in the world the teacher has her psychology class in the ICT Lab, especially when the lab is supposed to belong to the entire school and not just the Diploma candidates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Let me explain it:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It all started when our school decided to increase the number of classes but forgot to add to the number classrooms. Eventually, they decided to convert the, so called, Students Lounge into the Principal's Office. But to no avail, as other rooms were taken up what would later be known as DF Office (as stupid as it can get, DF stands for a person's name) and Teachers' Lounge. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;After a year the powers-that-be (actually take out the 's' when you read it) realized that they can't create more space by constantly taking down old walls and building new ones. This shocking news resulted in adding of a new story. Now, the second story had two rooms one was for the Visual Arts and the other for Group 2. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Did it solve the problem.. not really because, already, the Visual Arts classes used to be held on the rooftop and the Group 2 classes were held in the DF Office....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It's confusing? I will drop the issue here.. it's a long, sad, endless story.. the tragedy of our school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Well, not really... the tragedy is something else... the above mentioned story is just the offshoot, the resultant of 'the tragedy'.  I'll talk about it later. I am still too angry to think about it... let alone pen/type it down.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Keep a watchout for more on Lemme Tell You About US&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2575727654207080267-5496045293721437861?l=t-ooze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/feeds/5496045293721437861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/2009/05/lemme-tell-you-about-us-part-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575727654207080267/posts/default/5496045293721437861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575727654207080267/posts/default/5496045293721437861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/2009/05/lemme-tell-you-about-us-part-2.html' title='Lemme Tell You About Us (Part 2)'/><author><name>Ianthe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01484645173837014360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2575727654207080267.post-50034240525038690</id><published>2009-05-28T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T10:14:01.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lemme Tell You About Us (Part 1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I like to believe that T-Ooze began on the day(s) the five of us decided to join the school we are going to graduate from (on 30th May, 2009). This is because if going to this school was someone's conscious, rational decision then they surely have, at least, a certain amount of guts, imagination and a pinch of freakiness!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Now, definitely, I am not going to name this school of ours but I will decribe it a little:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Look for the city's most uniquely beautiful building. Let's call it Building A. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Once you get there, go around and look for the tiniest, ugliest, shabbiest, most dilapidated, highly unaesthetic buiding in the vicinity. You've found it? Yeah! This is our school and Building B.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"So what?", right? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Just enter...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It's 9 am. It's the time when, on paper, the students are at their best. It's the time when, officially, classes are going on, teachers are busy teaching and students are engrossed in absorbing knowledge.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;But, lo behold! There's a whole big bunch of students blocking your entrance to the gate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;If you want to, you can stand aside and listen to what the hullabaloo is about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;You did that? No, no you don't need hearing aids these students had really just arrived. What about that guy who just sauntered in? Umm.. his dad's a minister.... umm.. what did you have for breakfast today?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Ok, so we were talking about going inside....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Once you step in, you'll see another crowd. If you care to, you can ask these kids what they are doing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;hanging around school. Most of them will roll their eyes or stare at you for being &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; dumb. The younger ones might tell you that they have their P.E. right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;No, please don't ask me to tell you how P.E. and having a free class are related.. Besides, it won't be politically correct. ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I think you should try some of the classes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You might have some rather raw experiences but eventually you'll manage to access one or the other of the classes. The Maths teacher allowed you to enter! Aha! Just take a seat, wait and watch. Yes, yes you are not mistaken. It's not a Current [personal] Affairs class (sic).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you are too... delicate to enjoy the gossiping you might try going to the I&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;C'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;T Lab. Why are you crying? You feel &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;insulted&lt;/span&gt; because a teacher yelled at you for entering the lab as it has been converted (temporarily) into her private property?!?! Puhhleez, get a life! It's an everyday thing here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&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/2575727654207080267-50034240525038690?l=t-ooze.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/feeds/50034240525038690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/2009/05/lemme-tell-you-about-us-part-1.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575727654207080267/posts/default/50034240525038690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2575727654207080267/posts/default/50034240525038690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://t-ooze.blogspot.com/2009/05/lemme-tell-you-about-us-part-1.html' title='Lemme Tell You About Us (Part 1)'/><author><name>Ianthe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01484645173837014360</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
