<?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-7101569</id><updated>2011-12-30T05:04:41.265-05:00</updated><category term='american idol'/><category term='libak'/><category term='bilmoko'/><category term='hi-techie'/><category term='kris allen'/><category term='pinoy'/><category term='tv'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='winter'/><category term='canada'/><category term='wala lang'/><category term='sayaw'/><category term='opinions'/><category term='babe'/><title type='text'>b a r d o t  files</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;b&gt;no drama&lt;/b&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>171</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-2068503152984844428</id><published>2009-05-20T22:10:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T01:56:26.886-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='american idol'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kris allen'/><title type='text'>my kris</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/ShS4Iyk0wnI/AAAAAAAAAH8/-SzHXdeOyok/s1600-h/kris-allen-american-idol-05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/ShS4Iyk0wnI/AAAAAAAAAH8/-SzHXdeOyok/s320/kris-allen-american-idol-05.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338093919495570034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ever since i heard him sing ain't no sunshine, i had rooted for him to win it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and tonight he won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my idol is now the new american idol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;way to go kris!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-2068503152984844428?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/2068503152984844428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=2068503152984844428&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/2068503152984844428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/2068503152984844428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-kris.html' title='my kris'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/ShS4Iyk0wnI/AAAAAAAAAH8/-SzHXdeOyok/s72-c/kris-allen-american-idol-05.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-7970566520832588553</id><published>2009-05-12T18:51:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T01:56:54.814-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the world doesn't care about you</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;today is the validation that not all things, however hard you try to make them happen, will not happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can remain positive but i suggest you put your hopes down.  you will definitely get hurt but at least you've been expecting it to come.  you lose, but you lose on your terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still, you're a loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;drink up my friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-7970566520832588553?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/7970566520832588553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=7970566520832588553&amp;isPopup=true' title='37 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/7970566520832588553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/7970566520832588553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2009/05/world-doesnt-care-about-you.html' title='the world doesn&apos;t care about you'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>37</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-5030684150809957477</id><published>2009-03-19T20:09:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T01:58:23.815-05:00</updated><title type='text'>power tripping</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;first, erap became a free man.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;then most recently, ninoy aquino murder convicts also became free men.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;now, romeo jalosjos.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;who’s next gloria?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-5030684150809957477?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/5030684150809957477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=5030684150809957477&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/5030684150809957477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/5030684150809957477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2009/03/power-tripping.html' title='power tripping'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-2563923242601752441</id><published>2009-01-15T21:02:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T21:19:44.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i hate winter!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;really.  hate.  it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at almost -30&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;°C&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;, my car didn't start.  my ever reliable car would not start!?!  arrrgh! i should have followed my neighbors and plugged in my block heater. too little too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-2563923242601752441?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/2563923242601752441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=2563923242601752441&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/2563923242601752441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/2563923242601752441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-hate-winter.html' title='i hate winter!!!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-3035345419205401818</id><published>2008-11-05T19:40:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T19:55:48.791-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinions'/><title type='text'>president-elect obama</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SRI9DnnLLxI/AAAAAAAAAFw/viCZo2tVzZA/s1600-h/barack.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 253px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SRI9DnnLLxI/AAAAAAAAAFw/viCZo2tVzZA/s320/barack.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265338046731726610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;wtf?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for what i thought to be a respected broadsheet, the headline is just distasteful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;offensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do they have to play the color issue?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for a country of colored skin, I did not expect this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you disappoint me, Inquirer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-3035345419205401818?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/3035345419205401818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=3035345419205401818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/3035345419205401818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/3035345419205401818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/11/wtf-for-what-i-thought-to-be-respected.html' title='president-elect obama'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SRI9DnnLLxI/AAAAAAAAAFw/viCZo2tVzZA/s72-c/barack.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-1003142851095274327</id><published>2008-10-04T20:27:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T01:59:04.428-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>how does one get over a betrayal?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;he fucks a girl.  he continues to communicate with the girl. and he thinks she should just get over it after admitting and apologizing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since when did cheating became okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;um, uh yeah... men think it's okay to cheat as long as they're the one doing the deed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-1003142851095274327?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/1003142851095274327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=1003142851095274327&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/1003142851095274327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/1003142851095274327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-does-one-get-over-betrayal.html' title='how does one get over a betrayal?'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-1488231730740894736</id><published>2008-09-20T11:37:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T23:29:00.653-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='libak'/><title type='text'>who's dumb? dumber? dumbest?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl is married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl claims to be in love with another guy whom she has known before her husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;other guy did not marry her claiming friends find her too old for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;other guy blames friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl still meets the other guy with husband's knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl even goes out with husband and the other guy together.  ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;husband doesn't mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;husband says he got her a virgin that's why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl insists nothing happened between her and the guy.  ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;husband believes her coz she was a virgin.  ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl thinks it's alright as long as no sex. ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;girl says in front of husband she loves the other guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;husband doesn't mind coz she was a virgin.  ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;other guy continues to go out with girl and husband.  ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who's dumb?  dumber?  dumbest?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you're just as confused as i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;if what society thinks of you affects you, then you better conform to their standard.  if you get pissed off when people talk about you, then you better straighten your act. if you think you're right when people around you think otherwise, think it out.  think it hard.  think twice.  get some counseling.  or pray.  pray hard for wisdom. it is definitely what you don't have right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;stupid.  selfish.  jaded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-1488231730740894736?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/1488231730740894736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=1488231730740894736&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/1488231730740894736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/1488231730740894736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/09/whos-dumb-dumber-dumbest.html' title='who&apos;s dumb? dumber? dumbest?'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-4316511982100003233</id><published>2008-09-16T21:16:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T23:27:50.614-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv'/><title type='text'>couch potato</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pacey's back!  errr, rather, joshua jackson.  and he's hot as ever!  i don't know why but i almost always love canadian actors - especially jason priestley.  almost - coz i don't like jim carrey.  sorry but i find him o.a.  but i did like him at liar liar.  so anyway, tuesdays at 9 is booked for fringe for some yummy jj.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tentatively, this is going to be my fall tv schedule:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; monday - heroes, the sarah connor chronicles, prisonbreak&lt;br /&gt; tuesday - house, fringe, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;ncis, dwts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;  wednesday - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;criminal minds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;, smallville&lt;br /&gt; thursday - grey's anatomy, survivor, 90210&lt;br /&gt; friday -ghost whisperer, greek&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gawd!  i am going to be very busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;coz i'm on the brink of depression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-4316511982100003233?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/4316511982100003233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=4316511982100003233&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/4316511982100003233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/4316511982100003233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/09/couch-potato.html' title='couch potato'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-2349544985375424940</id><published>2008-08-16T11:50:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T12:05:58.330-04:00</updated><title type='text'>gold at last...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for a first world country, canada sucks at the beijing olympics.  it took 8 days to win its first  medal.  good thing it's a gold.  still, it's disappointing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we better be better in the coming winter olympics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-2349544985375424940?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/2349544985375424940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=2349544985375424940&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/2349544985375424940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/2349544985375424940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/08/gold-at-last.html' title='gold at last...'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-8358676234649701713</id><published>2008-05-09T21:56:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T21:59:21.915-04:00</updated><title type='text'>moonlight</title><content type='html'>i love you mick st john.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-8358676234649701713?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/8358676234649701713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=8358676234649701713&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/8358676234649701713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/8358676234649701713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/05/moonlight.html' title='moonlight'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-8619161022264435402</id><published>2008-03-07T22:14:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T23:26:15.822-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='winter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wala lang'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pinoy'/><title type='text'>pinoy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am soooooo tired of the snow now. i can't take it anymore. this is just too much. enough is enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;please snow, go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was just watching videos of ramiele on &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/"&gt;youtube&lt;/a&gt; like &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=MVjbUGvh2Kc&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=EghfaWmFL9g&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; when i came into &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=PjtVa1yvALI&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;this video&lt;/a&gt; about filipinos discussing about filipinos versus filipino-americans.  or rather the filipinos raised in america versus those raised in the philippines.  obviously, a division on the filipino community.  very interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some points raised:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. what does it mean to be a filipino?&lt;br /&gt;. what is the essence of being a filipino? &lt;br /&gt;. do you need to be able to speak tagalog to be called a genuine filipino?&lt;br /&gt;. can't you claim to be a filipino because you can't speak in filipino?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my take? this is really complicated. it doesn't mean that just because we're filipinos that we could all naturally get along. my gawd!  even families can't get along by themselves. although i agree that we tend to gravitate to our own race, personality still matters, whether you speak english with an accent or not.  there are a lot of issues involved in this too.  for one, most filipinos have this sir/mam status mentality. inconspicuously, that may be stopping us from co-existing without insecurities. another is the filipino pride.  we have too much of it but are oftentimes misguided by it. this pride can lead us to look up on filipinos who speak fluent english, yet it can also lead us to look down on filipinos who speak english with the accent.  these are only a few that i can think of right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is a very complicated topic and we don't really need to argue.  i myself can't pinpoint how i can define one's 'filipino-ness.'  all i know is that it can not be on the color of your skin, or on how well you can speak tagalog, or on pakikisama, or utang na loob, or on respect of the elders, or on the close-knit family, yadda yadda.  i just know i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.&lt;br /&gt;my friend just got into an accident while driving on the snow.  good thing nobody was hurt and the car just got a dent.  just one more reason to hate snow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S.&lt;br /&gt;i am a canadian citizen and a filipino citizen.  but i am filipino. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-8619161022264435402?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/8619161022264435402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=8619161022264435402&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/8619161022264435402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/8619161022264435402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/03/pinoy.html' title='pinoy'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-6846139925456300575</id><published>2008-03-02T00:06:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T00:28:49.263-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='canada'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='babe'/><title type='text'>canadian shtick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. pronounce against as &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;[uh-geynst] &lt;/span&gt;and about as &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;[uh-boot]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.. read thousands in hundreds (i.e. 1200 as 12 hundred as opposed to one thousand and two hundred)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... say "Eh" in every sentence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know... it's kinda wierd eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a stop light this afternoon, the driver and the passenger of the car in front of me kissed while waiting for the green light.  i thought "why can't they just wait till they get home?"  then i realised, cris and i also do the same kiss on a stop light often.  and then i smiled and thought "what a romantic pair."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehe.  too fast to whine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-6846139925456300575?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/6846139925456300575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=6846139925456300575&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/6846139925456300575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/6846139925456300575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/03/canadian-shtick.html' title='canadian shtick'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-6882514020493088478</id><published>2008-02-23T11:48:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T12:04:06.148-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sayaw'/><title type='text'>america's best dance crew</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;i am hooked with america's best dance crew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my favourites:&lt;br /&gt;Kaba Modern and JabbaWockeeZ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asians can hip and hop and pop and krump as hard just as any hardcore hiphop dancer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-6882514020493088478?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/6882514020493088478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=6882514020493088478&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/6882514020493088478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/6882514020493088478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/02/americas-best-dance-crew.html' title='america&apos;s best dance crew'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-6349181845677249631</id><published>2008-02-22T21:36:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T21:47:35.689-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wala lang'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as much as possible, i'd like to understand each person's eccentricities.  but i'm gonna indulge myself to some whining and bashing right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cluttered - with a capital C.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why are some people just plain messy - with their things, and well, same as their life.   really.   mind you, when you look at her, she looks so tidy and hygienic and all that.   yet when you look at her room, it is so messy that even a snake would complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;grrrr.  damak.  i hope a snake bites her so she'll wake up and clean up.   no venom, k?   i may be mean but i'm no evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-6349181845677249631?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/6349181845677249631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=6349181845677249631&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/6349181845677249631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/6349181845677249631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/02/whine.html' title=''/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-1904685575696943711</id><published>2008-02-06T21:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T21:14:51.231-05:00</updated><title type='text'>still in shock</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/R6ppjxpwJlI/AAAAAAAAAFo/0g3fcPUivx8/s1600-h/heath.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/R6ppjxpwJlI/AAAAAAAAAFo/0g3fcPUivx8/s320/heath.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164055986078492242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after 16 days, i still can't get over the fact that heath ledger is dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sayang.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-1904685575696943711?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/1904685575696943711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=1904685575696943711&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/1904685575696943711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/1904685575696943711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/02/still-in-shock.html' title='still in shock'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/R6ppjxpwJlI/AAAAAAAAAFo/0g3fcPUivx8/s72-c/heath.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-7475945115683532775</id><published>2008-01-16T20:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T19:41:09.620-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hi-techie'/><title type='text'>mba</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/R46y4NIevXI/AAAAAAAAAFA/Kj14zp29pe0/s1600-h/macair.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156255302053444978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/R46y4NIevXI/AAAAAAAAAFA/Kj14zp29pe0/s320/macair.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;first look and W O W! i'm in love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;then you get down to the details and you get the real deal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;no user replaceable battery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;only 1 usb port.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;no ethernet port.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;no optical drive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;and you shed at least $1799 for not having these. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;yes it is sexy. but that's all it is. form without the function.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;indeed, it is the air. nothing but just air.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;*&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;can't wait to get my hands on my new baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: vrinda;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-7475945115683532775?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/7475945115683532775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=7475945115683532775&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/7475945115683532775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/7475945115683532775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/01/mba.html' title='mba'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/R46y4NIevXI/AAAAAAAAAFA/Kj14zp29pe0/s72-c/macair.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-7816289970290564162</id><published>2008-01-12T12:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T19:42:06.463-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bilmoko'/><title type='text'>i want...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;a new notebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;an ipod touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a new camera.  any kind of canon camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a new look for my room.  new paint. new bedframe. new side tables.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a tv in the living room.  i know i shouldn't place one but i want to be sitting there in the morning while sipping coffee.  and the only way for me to do that is to have a tv in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;too many wants.  and when i get them, i know i'd want new things of the same thing again after a year or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why can't i be contented with what i currently have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;update!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;we just ordered an xps m1330 last night.  writing it, or wishing out loud truly helps! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:vrinda;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;now for the next item on the list... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:vrinda;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:vrinda;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" font-style: italic;font-family:vrinda;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-7816289970290564162?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/7816289970290564162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=7816289970290564162&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/7816289970290564162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/7816289970290564162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-want.html' title='i want...'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-5515228051708137947</id><published>2008-01-12T11:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T19:42:42.874-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wala lang'/><title type='text'>nega</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;i want to blog.  i do.  but i can't think of a particular subject to blog.  should i write about my life?  what part of my life?  or should i just whine and complain?  nega naman.  i want to write about something nice.  my love life kaya.  but i don't want to share it to people who don't know me.  current events?  nega pa rin. politics? di pwedeng politics in the philippines kasi super nega.  canadian naman is boring.  US politics is quite interesting right now with the presidential nominees race.  then again, paki ko ba dun sa states?  i don't live there.  for now.  ewan ko ba why i don't like to live in america.  i mean the united states ha.  the place is okay but the mindset is just so above and beyond that it annoys me.  they think the world is america.  they think they own the world and has the right meddle in anything.  well, di naman silang lahat.  but my boyfriend is one.  sobrang bilib sa america.  hmp.  buti nga at down ang dollar nila ngayon.  mirisi.  sigh.  see?  pati ako naging nega na rin.  tama na nga to.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'vrinda';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-5515228051708137947?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/5515228051708137947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=5515228051708137947&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/5515228051708137947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/5515228051708137947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-want-to-blog.html' title='nega'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-1953181726271064536</id><published>2007-09-21T13:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T14:02:40.512-04:00</updated><title type='text'>eye candy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;b  e  a  u  t  i  f  u  l &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://l.yimg.com/img.autos.yahoo.com/i/articles/most_coveted_cars/koenigsegg_ccx_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://l.yimg.com/img.autos.yahoo.com/i/articles/most_coveted_cars/koenigsegg_ccx_o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Koenigsegg CCX&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-1953181726271064536?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/1953181726271064536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=1953181726271064536&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/1953181726271064536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/1953181726271064536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2007/09/eye-candy.html' title='eye candy'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-4789460037062749365</id><published>2007-09-14T10:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T12:02:07.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dory Tan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/RuqqhrBgqnI/AAAAAAAAAA0/cHgmVQzi9fk/s1600-h/IMG_0377.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110084222666713714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/RuqqhrBgqnI/AAAAAAAAAA0/cHgmVQzi9fk/s200/IMG_0377.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I consider myself a religious person. I studied in a Catholic School since elementary and Catholicism has been instilled since I can remember to remember. In all those times, we always prayed before and after every subject or class. There was also a class devoted to Catholic study (Religion, Christian Living or Religious Education). I would bet that there was never a day when I never prayed. Never. But that doesn’t mean that I believe in everything that was taught to me. In all honesty, I doubt religion per se, in this case, the Catholic religion which is the only religion I know. I question the bible. I question the words in the bible, I question its authenticity. I question God’s existence. I question Jesus. Yes I doubt almost everything, but I don’t doubt that there’s some thingie above us who will always be there to guide us, to shower us with blessings, to show to us his power in making everything wonderful. I guess that’s what you call faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was invited to go to &lt;a href="http://www.marmora.org/"&gt;Marmora, Ontario&lt;/a&gt; without any knowledge of what the place is, of what is there, or of what we’re going there for. I was still half-awake (at 9:30 am!) when Ate Lina called me to get up and get ready for the trip out of town. As I was told that it was way over Silver Lake Park (about a 2hr drive from Ottawa), I requested not to drive for I don’t enjoy long drives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parking lot is already full of cars and buses at around 3pm. I was wondering why this many people? What is special about this place? Just looking at the sculptures and the stations of the cross, they were really simple and there was nothing special about them. It was then when they’ve told me that Marmora is actually a place of Marian apparitions. Add to that, it’s September 8 and the it’s the birthday of Mama Mary. They say that there has been a handful of individuals that has experienced the presence of the Blessed Virgin Mary while doing the stations of the cross. That some people has experienced the presence of the BVM with those specific individuals through the smell of roses or some weather happening like rain or snow or the sun dancing. When I hear stories like that, I don’t really believe them outright. It's really hard to trust anybody in this world now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One person who have claimed to have private revelations with the Blessed Virgin Mary is Dory Tan. She was there and a lot of people try to go into her for her to offer some prayers for them. I was one of them. I do go with the flow. Hehe. I don't know but I didn't feel any thing. Not some presence or something. I do admire her patience in dealing with everyone who wants to have some piece of her. And she does have this aura of someone respectable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not an expert on this so I don't have any opinion whatsoever whether what Dory has experienced were true or not. True or not, it does give out good effects/vibes on people. For me, it's the end that matters. I am for anything that promotes good karma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;left&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The image above is the 10th station of the cross where Dory Tan claims to have one of her private revelations from the Blessed Mother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Read the list of reliable and unreliable marian apparitions &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.catholicplanet.com/apparitions/index.htm"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Read an evaluation about what the church has to say about Dory Tan's private revelations &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.catholicplanet.com/apparitions/false20.htm"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-4789460037062749365?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/4789460037062749365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=4789460037062749365&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/4789460037062749365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/4789460037062749365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2007/09/dory-tan.html' title='Dory Tan'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/RuqqhrBgqnI/AAAAAAAAAA0/cHgmVQzi9fk/s72-c/IMG_0377.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-666150598681689361</id><published>2007-09-06T12:08:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T22:54:11.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>salamat</title><content type='html'>&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Vrinda;"&gt;trust is a very fragile feeling. depending on the circumstance, it could make or break you. it could be the only thing that will hold you up when everything is down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Vrinda;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Vrinda;"&gt;yet it could also drag you down. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Vrinda;"&gt;there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Vrinda;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Vrinda;"&gt;a time in our life when trusting someone was so easy to do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Vrinda;"&gt;was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Vrinda;"&gt; I was at 16. young and naïve. so trusting. so easy. of course it is. you know nothing about life yet. naïve nga. but&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Vrinda;"&gt;then you experience life. or love. or betrayal. and then you get crushed. trust is now down the drain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Vrinda;"&gt;it took me 13 years to trust someone fully again. in those 13 years, I thought I would never be able to trust somebody again. I thought if I ever do, that it would take all my strength and guts to do it. it surprised me to discover that it is still the easiest thing to do. all you need is the right person. honest. open. caring. sensitive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Vrinda;"&gt;no I’m not naïve anymore. but I thank you for bringing back the old me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p dir="ltr"&gt;&lt;span lang="en-us"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-666150598681689361?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/666150598681689361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=666150598681689361&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/666150598681689361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/666150598681689361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2007/09/trust-is-very-fragile-feeling.html' title='salamat'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-2661320938171300439</id><published>2007-09-01T14:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T23:21:00.896-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tag!  You're It!</title><content type='html'>I don't really do tags but there's always a first on everything. Got tagged by &lt;a href="http://rexosophy.wordpress.com/2007/08/05/tag-youre-it/"&gt;Rex&lt;/a&gt; on this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here we go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rules&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• In the 8 facts about [name], you share 8 things that your readers don’t know about you. At the end, you tag 8 other bloggers to keep the fun going. Each blogger must post these rules first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Each blogger starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• At the end of the post, the blogger chooses the people to get tagged and list their names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;• Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*** &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8 Facts About Mee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I learned to swim at 24 yrs old. That's way too old to learn but I'm glad I did. I love the water and knowing how to swim just makes my day in the beach/pool more enjoyable than just staying in the shallow side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I used to sing. When I was in grade school, I sang in almost all the programs since I started to sing. I stopped at high school because I didn't want to make a fool of myself anymore. I don't really think that I had a good voice. Besides, I was shy. (To my old friends in JBS, Help will remind them of me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I cry a lot. I cry on movies, soap operas, pocket books, heck, even comic books. I have cried on 2-3 page stories of Wakasan komiks. I even cried on Pretty Woman which is supposed to be a funny movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I love theme parks! Rollercoaters = Big Smile. Drop Zones = Happy Mee. The thrilling the ride is, the better. Screaming as loud as I can as I ride just releases all the tension and stress and is just pure fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I read anything. Hardcover. Softcover. Cosmo. GQ. Tennis. Sports Illustrated. Malaya. Sun Star. Good stories. Bad stories. Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. When I like something, I stop liking it once someone starts liking it. My idea is that I want to be unique. I want to be the only one who likes it or one of the few who likes it. Say, for the longest time, my fav colour was lavender. I stopped when it became the fav color by most of my friends and non-friends. I now have orange as my favourite color and so far nobody seems to like it. Sounds good to me. And I'm one of the few who love Tori Amos. She hasn't become mainstream like Alanis so I continue to love her. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I don't believe in "utang na loob." I just don't see the sense in it. Debt only pertains to money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I used to be very insecure. Growing up, my cousins are really pretty and I don't see myself as pretty. But then I got over it once I got a boyfriend (hehehe..). Besides, I was the bright one in the family (according to my ever loyal bro) so I'm okay with that (hehehe..).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I am tagging:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://christinemuhree.blogs.friendster.com/christinemuhree/"&gt;Darling&lt;/a&gt; &amp; &lt;a href="http://charliep.blogs.friendster.com/charlies_corner/"&gt;Tapi&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Para naa moy kalingawan. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://profiles.friendster.com/44992018"&gt;Jiji&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Because you once had a blog before and now I can't find it anymore. Asa naman to? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://profiles.friendster.com/5605922"&gt;Chacha&lt;/a&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://profiles.friendster.com/47642497"&gt;Bebing&lt;/a&gt; .&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; La lang. Wala namay lain. Hehe..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jobarclix.com/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-2661320938171300439?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/2661320938171300439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=2661320938171300439&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/2661320938171300439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/2661320938171300439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2007/09/tag-youre-it.html' title='Tag!  You&apos;re It!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-6266815793390301043</id><published>2007-08-31T20:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T13:12:06.052-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>why do people pretend to know something when they don't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do people pretend not to know something when they do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why can't they just be what they are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd rather be apathetic than pretend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-6266815793390301043?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/6266815793390301043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=6266815793390301043&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/6266815793390301043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/6266815793390301043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2007/08/why-do-people-pretend-to-know-something.html' title=''/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-2095741205883880092</id><published>2007-07-06T20:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T21:22:34.840-04:00</updated><title type='text'>ahmishu all so much!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/Ro7moJaq6DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/76DmIUJzmoc/s1600-h/tattoo2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084254606744807474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/Ro7moJaq6DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/76DmIUJzmoc/s200/tattoo2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was just looking at our boracay pictures and remembered all the fun we had there. ahmishu guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/Ro7nxZaq6EI/AAAAAAAAAAU/MpM_7CR2dLQ/s1600-h/barko1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084255865170225218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/Ro7nxZaq6EI/AAAAAAAAAAU/MpM_7CR2dLQ/s200/barko1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/Ro7oBJaq6FI/AAAAAAAAAAc/jdbC3eIIsC0/s1600-h/bueng.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084256135753164882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/Ro7oBJaq6FI/AAAAAAAAAAc/jdbC3eIIsC0/s200/bueng.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/Ro7oN5aq6GI/AAAAAAAAAAk/tT5kkoQM9MA/s1600-h/banana.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084256354796496994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/Ro7oN5aq6GI/AAAAAAAAAAk/tT5kkoQM9MA/s200/banana.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/Ro7p85aq6HI/AAAAAAAAAAs/fMUhB53dLds/s1600-h/group.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084258261761976434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/Ro7p85aq6HI/AAAAAAAAAAs/fMUhB53dLds/s200/group.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-2095741205883880092?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/2095741205883880092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=2095741205883880092&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/2095741205883880092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/2095741205883880092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2007/07/ahmishu-all-so-much.html' title='ahmishu all so much!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/Ro7moJaq6DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/76DmIUJzmoc/s72-c/tattoo2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-7411251100100000548</id><published>2007-04-24T09:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T10:03:36.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'>baby duck saved</title><content type='html'>with nothing else to report, one segment of CTV news goes something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haller!  15 seconds of fame for the baby duck and its family.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a side note, this only shows that canada is a peaceful place as they can't find any shooting or robbing news to share.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that ducks are loved here.  heck!  if that was me back home, i would toss the duck and play with it till it probably dies.  morbid me.  i know i'm horrible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-7411251100100000548?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/7411251100100000548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=7411251100100000548&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/7411251100100000548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/7411251100100000548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2007/04/baby-duck-saved_24.html' title='baby duck saved'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-117639815090906464</id><published>2007-04-12T13:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T13:15:50.923-04:00</updated><title type='text'>goosebumps!</title><content type='html'>this made all hairs in my body rise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;seriously!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe src="http://www.gmanews.tv/evideo/5381/Pacquiao-Morales-I-Lani-Misalucha-sings-the-National-Anthem" frameborder="0" style="width:360px; height:290px; display:block; background: black;" scrolling="no"&gt;This page requires a higher version browser&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-117639815090906464?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/117639815090906464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=117639815090906464&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/117639815090906464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/117639815090906464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2007/04/goosebumps.html' title='goosebumps!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-115819162768184208</id><published>2006-09-13T19:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T19:53:47.693-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>after big brother all stars won by booger, here's my new addiction....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5rhncd4tKFQ"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5rhncd4tKFQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh my gawd!  mario is soooo hot!  mmmm.. yummy yummy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-115819162768184208?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/115819162768184208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=115819162768184208&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/115819162768184208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/115819162768184208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2006/09/after-big-brother-all-stars-won-by.html' title=''/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-115393823755231013</id><published>2006-07-26T14:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-26T14:25:40.570-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/1600/will.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/320/will.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's summer and it's big brother time again.  it's summer and it's big brother all stars!  it's summer and my favourite houseguest is back!  dr will is back!  dr evil is back!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;most people i know who watch the show don't like evil dr will.  for one, he is obnoxious - no, not just obnoxious but really despicable!  many hate him but i love him!  to death.  he's hot and smart and most important of all, he's in there to play the game and win it - however way possible.  in his season, he won the game for being the bad guy.  who can resist bringing will in the final 2 when you know nobody would like to vote for him for being the lying jackass that he is?!  riiiight! so will went on to win the million.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now back in the house with the all star cast, will is again lying and being a schmuck with a twist but i bet that that is still his strategy right now.  he may say i want to go home, vote me out or whatever but knowing him as they all should know him by know, they should have known that he's just lying.  but then again, the other houseguests haven't really figured out will yet.  and if they won't be able to read will sooner, they will be burned much sooner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;burn them all baby.  i want to see your smile at the end of the show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-115393823755231013?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/115393823755231013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=115393823755231013&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/115393823755231013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/115393823755231013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2006/07/its-summer-and-its-big-brother-time.html' title=''/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-115265707019309102</id><published>2006-07-11T17:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T18:31:58.436-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It was a given. All the signs were there but I refused to see them as they are. Truly, love makes one shortsighted and senseless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now's the time to face reality.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-115265707019309102?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/115265707019309102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=115265707019309102&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/115265707019309102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/115265707019309102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2006/07/it-was-given.html' title=''/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-114569503565947916</id><published>2006-04-22T04:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T04:38:08.620-04:00</updated><title type='text'>heartless</title><content type='html'>why are some people insensitive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why are some people callous?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you cheat and hurt the person, yet you go on and proclaim your deception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do you really  have to rub it in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;such a low blow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;such a crass act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bitch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-114569503565947916?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/114569503565947916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=114569503565947916&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/114569503565947916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/114569503565947916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2006/04/heartless.html' title='heartless'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-113837608553789094</id><published>2006-01-27T10:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T10:38:04.113-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i want any of these...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/1600/ipod.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/320/ipod.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always wanted to have an iPod but never had one. I have always wished and hoped and planned on buying one but have never gone to do it. It seems so impractical of buying this expensive thingy when I could use the money for other things that I really need (and not just want). Or if I really want a portable music player, I could buy one of those inexpensive ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; *Sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I ever succumb to Apple's lure?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-113837608553789094?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/113837608553789094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=113837608553789094&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113837608553789094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113837608553789094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-want-any-of-these.html' title='i want any of these...'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-113587415612162083</id><published>2005-12-29T11:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-30T08:57:08.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2005: The blog that was.</title><content type='html'>I know I got this idea from some blog while I was bloghopping but I just couldn't figure out which blog.  According to that person, to cap the year, take the first sentences of the first entries for each month of the past year.  Below are mine's.  In a way, it sort of summarizes my emotions in the whole year. Kinda. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;January&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i have always believed in my instinct because most of the times i have always been right with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;February&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;presented with a situation, i always find myself dissecting and analyzing whatever pieces of information i have on hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;March&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I got this(Canon SD400)! and i'm happy now. ^_^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;April&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(The Pontiff is Dead) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And I mourn with the rest of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;May&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i need to set my priorities. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;June&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;July&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Canada Day Lights Up! (photos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;August&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eversince I had my birthdays away from my family, I have never been a fan of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;September&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I made it happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;October&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was browsing though my Friendster last night and saw my cousin who went back home a couple of weeks ago post new photos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;November&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i could say that i'm just too busy with work but i really am not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;December&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;freakin' spoiled racist bitch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;May the coming year bring us all the blessings and happiness.  Happy new year!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-113587415612162083?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/113587415612162083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=113587415612162083&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113587415612162083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113587415612162083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/12/2005-blog-that-was.html' title='2005: The blog that was.'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-113535125866850636</id><published>2005-12-23T10:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-23T10:23:09.756-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christ vs Claus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="fonthead01"&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);" href="http://www.you.inq7.net/super/12232005/sup1-1.htm"&gt;Christ vs Claus: The ultimate holiday showdown&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like, heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-113535125866850636?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/113535125866850636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=113535125866850636&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113535125866850636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113535125866850636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/12/christ-vs-claus.html' title='Christ vs Claus'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-113518324933509039</id><published>2005-12-21T11:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T12:37:03.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>CHRISTmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nothing beats Christmas in the Philippines. Whereas people are busy worrying about gifts here, we don't worry about that back home. Well at least for me, I don't. Our family don't. Back then, we don't have extra money to buy gifts so that wasn't really part of our celebration. Christmas to us was about making the house clean always, heavy with christmas decorations, the parol, the christmas tree, the food, and going to church. Yes, no gifts and no santa. It's all about the preparation for the celebration of the birth of Christ. Well, that's what christmas is about!! It's really frustrating here that all people think of are gifts and santa. Really, santa is bullshit. Sorry kids but he is. It's sad to see people calling santa gift giving as a tradition. According to the American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       &lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Tradition      n.  (&lt;/span&gt;tr&lt;img alt="" src="http://cache.lexico.com/dictionary/graphics/AHD4/GIF/schwa.gif" align="bottom" height="15" width="6" /&gt;-d&lt;img alt="" src="http://cache.lexico.com/dictionary/graphics/AHD4/GIF/ibreve.gif" align="bottom" height="15" width="7" /&gt;sh&lt;img alt="" src="http://cache.lexico.com/dictionary/graphics/AHD4/GIF/prime.gif" align="bottom" height="22" width="4" /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://cache.lexico.com/dictionary/graphics/AHD4/GIF/schwa.gif" align="bottom" height="15" width="6" /&gt;n)&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;ul&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;   The passing down of elements of a culture from generation to generation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;   &lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; set of such customs and usages viewed as a coherent body of precedents influencing the present.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt; &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o what tradition? Canadian perhaps. But we're not Canadians, for Christ's sake! You might have a Canadian passport but are you really Canadian? Just because your 'eh' sounds Canadian enough doesn't make you one. Having that passport doesn't make you one. That is why I am having a hard time passing my papers for Canadian Citizenship. I find it hard to think of carrying a Canadian passport with this brown skin, asian look, and deep loyalty to being a Filipino. I may hate the way things are going on in the Philippines but I don't ever want anybody to think that I'm not a Filipino. I work here, I live here, but I'm not Canadian. Perhaps one day I'll carry the Canadian passport but it will only be for travelling purposes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish Filipinos would not succumb to Canadian commercialism of celebrating Christmas. My, they don't even mention what Christmas really is for!?! All they have in minds are gifts, gifts, and more gifts. How I wish Filipinos would celebrate Christmas here the way they're supposed to be, the way our &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tradition &lt;/span&gt;is really done -- going to church, helping those in need, doing good, noche buena, and family. I don't know why we can't. Let's beat the cold and celebrate it our way, not their way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Merry Christmas!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-113518324933509039?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/113518324933509039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=113518324933509039&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113518324933509039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113518324933509039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmas.html' title='CHRISTmas'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-113518091299741855</id><published>2005-12-21T10:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T11:01:52.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>fob</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;freakin' spoiled racist bitch! just because you're born here in canada doesn't give you the right to call all immigrants fob's. i don't really have a problem being that but the tone and the intended derogatory meaning behind the word makes me want to fume and slap your white face. before you say that word again, please please please think first. or better yet, look all around you. aren't you surrounded by f$#kin' fob's??? fob's who have raised you and treated you like a princess? i pity them. they don't know they're raising a brute in their own house. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;brat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-113518091299741855?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/113518091299741855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=113518091299741855&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113518091299741855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113518091299741855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/12/fob_21.html' title='fob'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-113509209772304434</id><published>2005-12-20T10:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T10:21:37.736-05:00</updated><title type='text'>handwriting analysis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://handwriting.feedbucket.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://handwriting.feedbucket.com/generated/20051220/3sK6luE4Sq.jpg" width="250" height="150" border="1" alt="Handwriting Analysis" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The results of your analysis say:      &lt;p&gt;     You plan ahead, and are interested in beauty, design, outward appearance, and symmetry.   &lt;br /&gt;    You are a social person who likes to talk and meet others.   &lt;br /&gt;    You are affectionate, passionate, expressive, and future-oriented.   &lt;br /&gt;    You are a talkative person, maybe even a busybody!    &lt;br /&gt;    You are self-confident and like to bring attention to yourself.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;a href="http://handwriting.feedbucket.com/"&gt;What does your handwriting say about YOU?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-113509209772304434?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/113509209772304434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=113509209772304434&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113509209772304434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113509209772304434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/12/handwriting-analysis.html' title='handwriting analysis'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-113254449009923252</id><published>2005-11-20T22:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-21T15:39:13.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>standby</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i could say that i'm just too busy with work but i really am not. i don't know but i just don't have the inclination to write anymore. i mean, i still want to write. i still react to a lot of things and want to write them down. it's just that when i get in front of the computer, all those thoughts  vanish like smoke. s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o, 'til i get my desire back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;asta lavista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"&gt;"KINDNESS is the best revenge."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-113254449009923252?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/113254449009923252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=113254449009923252&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113254449009923252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113254449009923252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/11/standby.html' title='standby'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-113051271001644872</id><published>2005-10-28T11:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-28T13:59:37.646-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I wanna go home.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/1600/tapitiboy.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/320/tapitiboy.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;happy faces!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was browsing though my Friendster last night and saw my cousin who went back home a couple of weeks ago post new photos. As much as I was excitedly waiting for those photos, a part of me didn't want to see those photos. I knew I would really be upset after seeing them. And right I was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I miss them all. It's a kind of miss that's just so piercing I just have to browse fast so as not to miss them more. Of course I didn't succeeded on that. What? Just this morning, I logged in again and looked at the pictures. Aaarrggghhhh! Torture. I so miss them so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Please Lord, let me win the lotto so I can have the fare to go home.  Please please please.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Only losers try their luck on the Lotto, or any form of quick money campaign.  &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Which makes me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-113051271001644872?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/113051271001644872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=113051271001644872&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113051271001644872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113051271001644872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-wanna-go-home.html' title='I wanna go home.'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-113044108406885513</id><published>2005-10-27T15:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T15:52:00.443-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How stressed are you?</title><content type='html'>The pictures below are used to test the stress level a person can handle. The slower the picture moves, the better your ability of handling stress. Alleged criminals that were tested see them spinning around madly. However, senior citizens and kids see them standing still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you see them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/1600/image0012.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/400/image001.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/1600/image002.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/400/image002.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/1600/image001.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3838/420/400/image003.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-----------------------------&lt;br /&gt;*None of the images above are animated.  They are perfectly static! &lt;br /&gt;** Information is not verified to be true.  Taken from an email forwarded to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-113044108406885513?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/113044108406885513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=113044108406885513&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113044108406885513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/113044108406885513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/10/how-stressed-are-you.html' title='How stressed are you?'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-112787723587265493</id><published>2005-09-27T23:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-09-29T15:03:58.030-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I made it happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never believed in luck or destiny or fate or feng shui or whatever old beliefs my parents and grandparents have taught me. Although sometimes they do coincide, I believe that when they did, they were just that - plain coincidences. In whatever goal we aspire,we always have to strive to do something to have it. Everything is in to our hands to make things happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last couple of months have been crazy busy. Life, work and love all caught up with me that I don't even know which is which, which is not to say I'm complaining. With all these blessings, I can only thank whoever is above making these happen for me. I so feel the love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life. I just moved to my own house. Yes, my own house. My new home. A year ago, I didn't dream of owning a house. A cozy room of my own is enough. I didn't want to waste my time and money on the responsibility of owning a house. But things happen in your life when you're bound to make decisions that will lead to life-changing changes. Having my own house is one of those. A series of things happened and the next thing I knew, I was house-hunting. After a couple of weeks, I found the house I wanted. A couple of months later, I am working my ass packing my things and moving into a new place. The best thing so far is planning and doing all the decorating. The worst is being broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love. After all that I've been through, I never expected to meet someone again and end up loving him dearly. (naks!) I never expected there's still someone as kind and loving and thoughtfull and caring as he can be. I never expected to fall in love again. Then again, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I never do things the way it's expected to be. I can only hope now this will work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work. The busiest of 'em all. My last five summer weekends were spent working at the office. How boring can summer be? Still, work is work. Gotta do what we gotta do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's down to the end of September.  Getting so used to life at home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Getting some time to breath at work.  Getting all the love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it happen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-112787723587265493?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/112787723587265493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=112787723587265493&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/112787723587265493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/112787723587265493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-made-it-happen.html' title=''/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-112388303365448005</id><published>2005-08-12T17:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-08-12T18:03:41.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>ignore tomorrow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eversince I had my birthdays away from my family, I have never been a fan of the day. I always can't wait for the day to end. Tomorrow is not going to be different. As much as I am thankful that I had just lived another year and is still alive to enjoy another year or month or day or minute or second for that matter, I just want the day to pass and move on to the normal days. As much as I thought I've been through all the drama life could offer, something comes up. Still have too much drama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;--------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51); font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt;My birthday always reminds me how lonely and alone I am.  It still does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-112388303365448005?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/112388303365448005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=112388303365448005&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/112388303365448005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/112388303365448005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/08/ignore-tomorrow.html' title='ignore tomorrow'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-112032183079291217</id><published>2005-07-02T12:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T20:37:22.536-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Canada Day Lights Up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos17.flickr.com/23043467_5ccd5d273e_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos17.flickr.com/23043467_5ccd5d273e_m.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos18.flickr.com/23043468_c96150faf7_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos18.flickr.com/23043468_c96150faf7_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos19.flickr.com/23043470_289024d2b9_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos19.flickr.com/23043470_289024d2b9_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos19.flickr.com/23043471_0ccddc37f7_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos19.flickr.com/23043471_0ccddc37f7_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos18.flickr.com/23043472_b57e687f25_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos18.flickr.com/23043472_b57e687f25_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-112032183079291217?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/112032183079291217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=112032183079291217&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/112032183079291217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/112032183079291217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/07/canada-day-lights-up_02.html' title='Canada Day Lights Up!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111702729667506866</id><published>2005-05-25T09:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-25T09:23:03.243-04:00</updated><title type='text'>realization</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0); font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;i can't write when i'm happy.  i can't write when i'm in love. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i just live in the moment.  taking everything i can in my mind.  while i still can.  while it's all still there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;until the day it ceases to be what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111702729667506866?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111702729667506866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111702729667506866&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111702729667506866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111702729667506866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/05/realization_25.html' title='realization'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111593961314002085</id><published>2005-05-12T18:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T11:02:57.726-04:00</updated><title type='text'>spring!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos11.flickr.com/13609547_f41fe2d65f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos11.flickr.com/13609547_f41fe2d65f_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos10.flickr.com/13609548_9139c06da3_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos10.flickr.com/13609548_9139c06da3_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos10.flickr.com/13609549_e92727e03b_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos10.flickr.com/13609549_e92727e03b_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos10.flickr.com/13609550_2286554f70_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos10.flickr.com/13609550_2286554f70_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos11.flickr.com/13610264_eef4a23e5b_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos11.flickr.com/13610264_eef4a23e5b_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos10.flickr.com/13610265_5ba2574850.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos10.flickr.com/13610265_5ba2574850_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos10.flickr.com/13609552_14518c2456_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos10.flickr.com/13609552_14518c2456_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111593961314002085?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111593961314002085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111593961314002085&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111593961314002085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111593961314002085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/05/spring.html' title='spring!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111530448404188750</id><published>2005-05-05T10:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T19:29:30.023-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;"i miss you baby"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ewww! so corny...  very very sappy... pero kilig kaayo ko when he told me that.. *smiles*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;la lang. somebody was asking for a lovelife update so here it is - my closest semblance of a lovelife. still zero but someone is definitely creeping in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111530448404188750?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111530448404188750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111530448404188750&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111530448404188750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111530448404188750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-miss-you-baby-ewww-so-corny.html' title=''/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111525161144894331</id><published>2005-05-04T17:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T10:57:01.616-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;i need to set my priorities.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;for the past months now, i have been anxious to get a place of my own - live alone, buy my own furniture, decorate my own home, cook my own food without thinking if some people would find it edible, or walk nekkid around the house. err, okay.. naked is out. but i really want my own privacy. after 2 years of living with people, i so want to live by myself that i am willing to splurge my well-earned money for this kind of luxury -- yes, a luxury. i consider living alone in this foreign land a luxury. for why would you spend $800 for an apartment rent when you can rent a bedroom for just $400? but then privacy is expensive. and if you want it, you have to pay its price. i want it and i think i am ready and willing to pay the price now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;i think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;if i am really going to do it right and be a smartass, i should buy my own home rather than just rent. if i buy one, i may be paying more than the usual rent but i am paying for my own place. definitely a BIG investment. so now i'm contemplating of buying my own place. right now, i am eyeing a one bedroom condo with a very nice tub. hehe.. yeah, i am a sucker for beautiful bathrooms. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;80% sure of buying the condo.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;20% leaning on saving it for a big vacation back home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;decisions decisions.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos8.flickr.com/8755124_01c2a695a6_o.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;work has been exhausting. i didn't expect being a manager per se is so hard. handling people, hard-headed people at that, is so exhausting that i have thought of quitting a lot of times. fixing broken computers is way much better. bugged programs and short circuits are even much much better. but people?!? just plain taxing. they're so good at complaining, so good at counting the hours they work (even if all they've been doing is actually just talking over the phone or doing anything unrelated to work), so good at whining, but could not even get a job done. everything at work has been really testing my patience that i can't believe i have it in me to endure them. i would have loved to quit. but then again, it's just not me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;see?  now i'm the one whining.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos8.flickr.com/8755124_01c2a695a6_o.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;i am on the verge of making the same mistake all over again. i hope somebody will get me out of this. i hope i could still get out of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;----------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Nobody can heal your of your emotions, only God. And it takes humility and admission to God that we fall short in every ways. Nobody deserves His forgiveness but He gives it freely anyway."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;--an advice from my friend GB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111525161144894331?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111525161144894331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111525161144894331&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111525161144894331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111525161144894331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/05/i-need-to-set-my-priorities.html' title=''/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111413401201294195</id><published>2005-04-21T21:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T10:57:59.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stephenie</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/survivor10/images/survivors/stephanie/gall/24.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;whether she wins survivor or not, she's already a winner for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111413401201294195?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111413401201294195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111413401201294195&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111413401201294195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111413401201294195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/04/stephenie.html' title='Stephenie'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111344652839864597</id><published>2005-04-13T22:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T11:03:59.720-04:00</updated><title type='text'>bye bye winter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;here are some pictures i took last winter.. ui, last ha.. feel na feel ko na ang spring.. hehe.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos6.flickr.com/9351571_d21c797d88_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos6.flickr.com/9351571_d21c797d88_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;the road uncleaned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos8.flickr.com/9351573_4890927592_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos8.flickr.com/9351573_4890927592_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos8.flickr.com/9351572_f6f55201e9_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos8.flickr.com/9351572_f6f55201e9_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;the rideau canal early in the morning.  one of the few times you'll see it empty of any skater.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111344652839864597?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111344652839864597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111344652839864597&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111344652839864597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111344652839864597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/04/bye-bye-winter.html' title='bye bye winter'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111317766115364534</id><published>2005-04-10T19:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T11:07:20.250-04:00</updated><title type='text'>best wishes my friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://photos5.flickr.com/9034132_3d0457a6af_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;that's lyn, my high school bestfriend who's getting married this may. beside her is the groom paul who has been her boyfriend since 4th year high school. her first boyfriend and now soon to be husband.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;looking back, it's so funny to remember that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" href="http://photos7.flickr.com/9034806_e6b9ea95c3_o.jpg"&gt;our barkada&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; was very hesitant on having paul as her boyfriend. grabe! it made a big issue to the point that lyn asked us if we're asking her to choose between paul and us, her friends. naks! as i reminisce those scenes, i can't help but laugh at our immaturity and selfishness. i think we were just so jealous of lyn's newfound happiness. and to think i can't even remember why we were so against of paul. as for me, i wasn't really against of paul. i was just afraid he may hurt lyn knowing him to have just gotten out from a long relationship. malay ko basin naka-like pa siya sa iyang ex and is just making lyn as panakipbutas. hehe. haynaku! hayskul layp. so full of drama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;so next month they're going to tie the knot officially. sus! papel na lang jud ang kulang. after 13 years, finally, kasal na jud. haaay. i'm so happy for her. the last time we talked, i could feel that they're so happy together. and what more, for the first time, i witnessed paul's sweet side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 102, 0);font-family:georgia;" &gt;duz, i'm so happy for you.  if ever you need me, i'm just an email or text away.   mishu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos8.flickr.com/8755124_01c2a695a6_o.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;below are high school pictures i dug out from my vault.  can you point me out?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos7.flickr.com/9034806_e6b9ea95c3_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos7.flickr.com/9034806_e6b9ea95c3_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the magic 8 minus kim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos7.flickr.com/9034807_5b5a8c41a4_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos7.flickr.com/9034807_5b5a8c41a4_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;CAT officers photo op?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos4.flickr.com/9034808_000240c5c5_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos4.flickr.com/9034808_000240c5c5_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;1st yr class photo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos8.flickr.com/9034809_fd83250ee4_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos8.flickr.com/9034809_fd83250ee4_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;2nd yr class photo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos5.flickr.com/9034810_aaf662ae15_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos5.flickr.com/9034810_aaf662ae15_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;3rd yr class photo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos8.flickr.com/8755124_01c2a695a6_o.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:110;"  &gt;girlfriends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strike&gt;married&lt;/strike&gt; and &lt;strike&gt;soon to be married&lt;/strike&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;lyn&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;gail&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;phoebe&lt;br /&gt;haydee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;red&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;hazel&lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;ui! 57 percentage.   hagbong jud.  ouch!  nyehehe..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111317766115364534?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111317766115364534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111317766115364534&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111317766115364534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111317766115364534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/04/best-wishes-my-friend.html' title='best wishes my friend'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111308237408059908</id><published>2005-04-09T17:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-10T00:43:24.613-04:00</updated><title type='text'>slowww</title><content type='html'>A friend just called to inform me that &lt;a href="http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/so-hs-again.html"&gt;my crush&lt;/a&gt; is already taken.  He just had a girlfriend recently.  And to top it all, she is a Filipina too, and someone I know.  Arrrggghhhh!  Grrrr!  It could have been me.  Sayang.  Ang hina ko kasi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sayang.  Compared to his current girlfriend, I'm much more intelligent and prettier.  Hahaha.  Okay okay.  Actually she's pretty.  That's just me consoling my torn ego.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope di sila magtagal.  Hehehe... Bad me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111308237408059908?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111308237408059908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111308237408059908&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111308237408059908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111308237408059908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/04/slowww.html' title='slowww'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111306731497026459</id><published>2005-04-09T13:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T18:10:33.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:georgia;font-size:90;"  &gt;I've been dreaming of you for 4 consecutive days. Please stop thinking of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111306731497026459?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111306731497026459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111306731497026459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111306731497026459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111306731497026459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/04/ive-been-dreaming-of-you-for-4.html' title=''/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111306518107487879</id><published>2005-04-09T12:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-09T15:21:38.950-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Loving my Life</title><content type='html'>Just called my Mum and talked to everybody back home. It's my uncle's birthday tomorrow and they're all going to the beach. Ibog ko. Huhuhu. I wish I were there. I miss them all. Makes me more fervent on my plan to go home come October. Cross my fingers and hope to God - I will go home. Puhon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a nice feeling to feel loved. I don't have a lover right now but I feel so blessed and so loved by my friends and family that I don't really care nor mind that I don't have some other half to share it with. True, I get lonely sometimes. I miss the feeling of knowing that someone thinks of you and that someone will be there to take care of you whatever happens at the end of the day. But then again, after years of not having one, you learn to live with it. You learn to get by with just yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, it does get into my mind that perhaps God doesn't really have anyone destined for me. I guess He can't find one of His beings who can be capable of getting into me. Nobody worthy of me. Nobody who can be my equal. Nobody who can put up with me. I am very strong-willed to the point of being very stubborn. I don't like anybody asking me questions about when and where I go. Although I don't speak out my opinions, I am a very opinionated person -- I just don't shove it over other people's throats. I hate people who do that. Because as much as I am an opinionated person, I also respect other people's opinions. Whether their opinions are right or wrong, I don't really care - especially if they're wrong. I don't have the patience to explain. They can believe whatever they want to believe for all I care as long as I know that what I believe is right - well, most of the times. Saying that, do you think some guy can put up with me? Based on my state right now, single at 29, I guess the answer is clear. Nada. Crystal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, nowadays, I can say that I don't really need a man. For what? Now that may be very cocky of me but that's just how I feel right now. I don't need a man. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my life just the way it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic;font-size:90%;" &gt;I always cry whenever I read something about the Pope.  Is it just me or am I really that pathetic?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111306518107487879?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111306518107487879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111306518107487879&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111306518107487879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111306518107487879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/04/loving-my-life_09.html' title='Loving my Life'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111292495696195138</id><published>2005-04-07T21:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-07T21:49:16.963-04:00</updated><title type='text'>not you</title><content type='html'>the touch&lt;br /&gt;the stares&lt;br /&gt;the adventures&lt;br /&gt;i miss them all&lt;br /&gt;but i don't miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the hugs&lt;br /&gt;the burger meals&lt;br /&gt;the kiss on the forehead&lt;br /&gt;i miss them all&lt;br /&gt;but i don't miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the calls&lt;br /&gt;the banters&lt;br /&gt;the songs&lt;br /&gt;i miss them all&lt;br /&gt;but i don't miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the poems&lt;br /&gt;the babytalks&lt;br /&gt;the brains&lt;br /&gt;i miss them all&lt;br /&gt;but i don't miss you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss them all&lt;br /&gt;but not you&lt;br /&gt;no, not you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos8.flickr.com/8755124_01c2a695a6_o.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i haven't been in blogging mode lately. it's not that i don't have anything to write about. it's just that i don't have the urge nor the desire to share whatever i'm experiencing or thinking recently. plus i can't find my creative juices to write with sense. i don't know but i guess i really need pain to be able to write something good as i tend to be passionate when i'm hurting. but if it takes pain or sorrow to make me want to write, i'd rather be the senseless blogger anytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos8.flickr.com/8755124_01c2a695a6_o.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i browsed through &lt;a href="http://shutteraddict.blogspot.com"&gt;this site&lt;/a&gt; and inggit na inggit ako sa galing niya.  fell in love with his photos easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have then decided to enrol in a photography class this summer or fall. pramis!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos8.flickr.com/8755124_01c2a695a6_o.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just checked my friendster awhile ago and saw these yellow and green crooked arrows in a circle - yellow for girls and greens for guys. hmmm.. checked one friend and has this as our joint horoscope:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   good day&lt;br /&gt;   You and *toot* are flying high today!&lt;br /&gt;   There's nothing wishy-washy about the two of you now, and your combined energy isn't for the faint of heart...&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i have a faint heart!!!&lt;br /&gt;waaaaa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;--------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;nanaginip ng gising&lt;br /&gt;nakatulala sa hangin&lt;br /&gt;nagsusumidhing damdamin&lt;br /&gt;nababaliw ako sayo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111292495696195138?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111292495696195138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111292495696195138&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111292495696195138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111292495696195138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/04/not-you_111292495696195138.html' title='not you'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111257223674340914</id><published>2005-04-03T19:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T20:15:58.126-04:00</updated><title type='text'>His Holiness John Paul II</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Pope John Paul II&lt;br /&gt;1920 - 2005&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.vatican.va/news_services/press/img/santo-padre/jp_ii.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; • Birth Name: Karol Józef Wojtyła&lt;br /&gt; • Date of Birth: May 18, 1920&lt;br /&gt; • Place of Birth: Wadowice, Poland&lt;br /&gt; • The second of two sons born to Karol Wojtyła and Emilia Kaczorowska.&lt;br /&gt; • Ordained to priesthood on November 1, 1946.&lt;br /&gt; • Became a cardinal on June 26, 1967.&lt;br /&gt; • Elected to the papacy on October 16, 1978.&lt;br /&gt; • First Slavic and non-Italian pope in 455 years.&lt;br /&gt; • The youngest pope at 58 in 132 years.&lt;br /&gt; • The most traveled pope in history going to 170 visits to over 115 countries over the past 20 years.&lt;br /&gt; • Multi-lingual, speaking 8 languages.&lt;br /&gt; • In 1983, Marvel Comics published a Pope biography. He may be the only pope whose life was portrayed in a comic book. &lt;br /&gt; • Before his ordination as a priest, he was a member of an experimental theater group, a stonecutter, a published poet, and a chemical company boiler-tender.&lt;br /&gt; • May be the most atheletic pope who played soccer as a goal-keeper, took daring swims in the flooded Skawa River, and enjoyed skiing, hiking, mountain climbing and kayaking in his youth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"This world is not capable of making man happy.  Prayer and faith can."&lt;br /&gt;- Pope John Paul II&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111257223674340914?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111257223674340914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111257223674340914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111257223674340914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111257223674340914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/04/his-holiness-john-paul-ii.html' title='His Holiness John Paul II'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111257100256094935</id><published>2005-04-03T10:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T19:51:11.213-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pontiff is Dead</title><content type='html'>And I mourn with the rest of the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111257100256094935?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111257100256094935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111257100256094935&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111257100256094935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111257100256094935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/04/pontiff-is-dead.html' title='The Pontiff is Dead'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111232641006578981</id><published>2005-03-31T22:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T13:58:21.250-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Life and Death</title><content type='html'>With all the hoopla given to the "life" and death of Terri Schiavo, I can't help but give my opinion.  This topic hits near my heart having lost my baby in quite a similar way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just watched the news and saw actress Patricia Heaton(Everybody Loves Raymond) teary-eyed saying "I would never kill my child.  I would never starve my child."  I believe her.  I too would say that.  I will never ever kill my child.  But then again, you're saying that right now while your children are still healthy.  You can never put yourself in somebody else's position unless you're in the same position because the emotions will never be the same.  You could never be as realistically empathethic to anybody's feelings.  You can only imagine.  That said, you can never judge other people's decisions who are in that kind of situation.  You can never assume that you would be able to take it the way you ideally want it to.  You only know when you're in it.  You can only hope it won't happen to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This issue brings back the memory of Ashley.  And the more I think about it now, the more I knew I made the right decision.  Sometimes, you just have to do what you've got to do.  Sometimes, you just have to accept things as they are without questions.  Sometimes, you just have to let go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when can we say that a person is dying?  When can we say a person is dead?  The problem with today is that there has been too much advancement in science that you don't know anymore the real state of death.  When does death really happen?  When your heart stops beating?  When your brain stops functioning?  If I were Terri, from the time I was declared a veggie, I would have asked someone to kill me.  The last thing I want is somebody worrying about me and wasting time taking care of me when I'm already dead as far as knowing I don't even know if I'm still alive or what.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111232641006578981?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111232641006578981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111232641006578981&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111232641006578981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111232641006578981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/of-life-and-death.html' title='Of Life and Death'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111232572204869904</id><published>2005-03-31T22:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T19:34:20.413-04:00</updated><title type='text'>yummm... tortas...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos6.flickr.com/8042902_26c8d5a06f_o.jpg" title="mmmm.. tortas!"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos6.flickr.com/8042902_26c8d5a06f.jpg" width="500" height="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111232572204869904?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111232572204869904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111232572204869904&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111232572204869904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111232572204869904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/yummm-tortas.html' title='yummm... tortas...'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111198092336922397</id><published>2005-03-27T22:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T19:32:26.366-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Uy!</title><content type='html'>Naalala kita kanina.&lt;br /&gt;Narinig ko kasi yung song.&lt;br /&gt;Ayun na-miss tuloy kita bigla.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kamusta ka na kaya.&lt;br /&gt;Sana naaalala mo rin ako.&lt;br /&gt;Sana namimiss mo rin ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kahit minsan man lang.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111198092336922397?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111198092336922397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111198092336922397&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111198092336922397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111198092336922397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/uy.html' title='Uy!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111159186481709877</id><published>2005-03-23T13:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-23T13:49:01.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Purpose Driven Life</title><content type='html'>After a friend has been bugging me of buying the book, a few weeks later, I see the book paraded on television.  Yes, I had been reading the book before it became popular.  I just want that known, hehe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend &lt;a href="http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/busy-bum.html"&gt;Gerson&lt;/a&gt; literally forced me to buy the book since he saw &lt;a href="http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/what-am-i-here-for.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt;.  As you can see, it was an entry of a very confused person finding her way and purpose in life.  And the pastor-to-be that he is, he gave me the &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0310205719/qid=1111590432/sr=8-1/ref=pd_csp_1/102-2789069-5670540?v=glance&amp;s=books&amp;n=507846"&gt;amazon link&lt;/a&gt; and told me to buy the book right away, ASAP.  He can really be very forceful when he wants to, hehe.  The good and trusting friend that I am, I bought it right away and have never looked back.  It really is a very informative and stimulating book.  You're supposed to read the book within 40 days (would have been good to start on the first day of Lent, right?) and read only 1 chapter a day so you can concentrate and meditate on how each lesson can be applied to your daily life but I got stuck on 1 of the chapters (Chapter 3 I guess) and it took me almost a week to move on to the next chapter.  Chapter 3 gave me a lot to think of and think over.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point?  That the book is worthy of the celebration it is currently getting.  I haven't even read half of it but it really hit me on most marks of my life and is helping me on my confusion.  So if you're thinking of buying one, go get one.  You wouldn't regret having a copy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, done with this shameless plug I am not even paid for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's holy week and I will be on my friend's house to celebrate(??) the occasion.  I'm excited to have all these foods (without meat of course) cooked the way it is back home - binignit, nilat-ang saging and camote, inun-unan - to name just a few.  Yummmmmy!  As I have been always deprived of these here in Canada, I can't wait for Good Friday to come, hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a meaningful holy week everyone!  Let's all pray and celebrate God's goodness.  Happy Easter!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The more you know who you are, the less you think of what you want.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Bob Harris, Lost in Translation&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111159186481709877?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111159186481709877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111159186481709877&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111159186481709877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111159186481709877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/purpose-driven-life.html' title='The Purpose Driven Life'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111160216755785458</id><published>2005-03-23T13:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T18:13:38.008-04:00</updated><title type='text'>choose and work it out!</title><content type='html'>No one falls in love by choice, it is by CHANCE.&lt;br /&gt;No one stays in love by chance, it is by WORK.&lt;br /&gt;And no one falls out of love by chance, it is by CHOICE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111160216755785458?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111160216755785458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111160216755785458&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111160216755785458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111160216755785458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/choose-and-work-it-out.html' title='choose and work it out!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111111451778982886</id><published>2005-03-17T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-18T09:38:59.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Look</title><content type='html'>I just finished watching Ladder 49.  The story is good.  Heroic.  Touching.  A testament of love and commitment to people, most especially to someone's job.  Pierced through my heart.  Cried buckets of tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what really touched me was one scene. That scene that showed the look - the look of a man to his girl that illuminates his radiant love.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss that look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I'd see that look right at me again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;minsan parang wala kang kakampi. parang lahat kaaway mo. pero mainit talaga ang kape, kasi masarap ang lugaw. ganun pa man masakit pa ring kumagat ang aso. haaay.   sana di umulan para di bumaha. &lt;/i&gt; --forwarded&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111111451778982886?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111111451778982886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111111451778982886&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111111451778982886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111111451778982886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/look.html' title='The Look'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111094788332563510</id><published>2005-03-15T23:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-15T23:38:03.330-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mastermind</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.bbc.co.uk/science/humanbody/images/mind/whatamilike/types/mastermind.gif" width="424" height="100" alt="Planner, Ideas, Heads and Introvert" border="0"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Summary of Masterminds&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Visionaries who put energy into achieving their goals&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Prefer to work independently and dislike inefficiency&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Think of themselves as logical, thorough, and bright&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;Values practicality and common sense above ideas and theories&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;h3&gt;More about Masterminds&lt;/h3&gt;Masterminds create a vision for the future by gathering and organising information. They then develop strategies to achieve their goals. They have a rare gift for looking at almost anything and seeing how it can be improved. These skills and the Masterminds' high standards often allow them to reach leadership positions at work.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Masterminds value independence and prefer to work on their own. Once they have decided on a course of action, Masterminds rarely change their minds, although they can be persuaded by clear reasoning by someone they respect.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In situations where they can't use their talents or are unappreciated, Masterminds may cut themselves off from a group and criticize people who don't understand their plans. Under extreme stress, Masterminds may overindulge in sensory experiences like eating, shopping or watching television.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Masterminds often have an unusual sense of humour, which arises from their ability to spot surprising links between seemingly unconnected facts.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3&gt;Mastermind Careers&lt;/h3&gt;Masterminds are drawn to jobs requiring logical analysis or abstract thinking common in science or technical fields.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Test taken &lt;a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/science/humanbody/mind/index.shtml?personality"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111094788332563510?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111094788332563510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111094788332563510&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111094788332563510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111094788332563510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/mastermind.html' title='Mastermind'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111080769148078412</id><published>2005-03-14T08:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-14T22:17:59.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Leo in Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=200 align=center border=1 bordercolor=black cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=#66CCFF align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif"&gt;You are &lt;b&gt;80&lt;/b&gt;% Leo&lt;/font&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align=center bgcolor=#FFFFFF&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.quizdiva.net/bt/leo.gif"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" width="350"&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img src="http://quizdiva.net/bt/leo-love.gif"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h2&gt;Leo - Your Love Profile&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your positive traits:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;You're almost always the center of attention - and easy for potential dates to spot • Your happiness and optimism is appealing to all... and contagious! • You don't hold grudges - getting over little fights is no problem for you &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your negative traits:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;You tend to ignore relationship problems, until they are too big to handle • You crave luxury, and you are disappointed with partners who can't provide you with it • If someone does you wrong, you'll coldly and cruely break their heart&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your ideal partner:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Someone high status enough to bring you more attention - but not so great that they upstage you • Makes you laugh and brings excitement to everything you do together • Is aggressive and confident enough to butt heads with you every so often&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your dating style:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;High expectations. You need to be impressed with an incredible first date for a second one to occur.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your seduction style:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;You like to make the first move - you're fearless about initiating things • Passionate. You really get into any intimate act. • Aggressive. Most of the time, you find yourself wanting sex more than your partner.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tips for the future:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;Try to not need so much attention. You'll feel less ignored, guaranteed. • Learn to love your parnter for who they are - not how they help advance your life. • Let your partner shine occasionally. You don't always have to be the alpha dog.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best color to attract mate:&lt;/b&gt; Gold&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Best day for a date:&lt;/b&gt; Sunday &lt;br&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=400 align=center border=1 bordercolor=black cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=#66CCFF align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are Bold And Brave&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=#FFFFFF&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src=http://www.quizdiva.net/bt/bold-and-brave.jpg&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;But daring? Not usually?&lt;br /&gt;You tend to like to make calculated risks.&lt;br /&gt;So while you may not be base jumping any time soon...&lt;br /&gt;You are up for whatever's new and (a little) exciting!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------&lt;br /&gt;All quizzes at &lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com"&gt;Blogthings&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111080769148078412?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111080769148078412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111080769148078412&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111080769148078412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111080769148078412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/leo-in-me.html' title='The Leo in Me'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111063946435354911</id><published>2005-03-12T10:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-12T10:10:49.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Beyond Borders</title><content type='html'>I watched Beyond Borders again (Angelina Jolie, Clive Owen) and I cried watching through the movie again.  From the moment Angelina picks up this tiny African baby till she burst from the landmines, small drop of tears just can't stop falling.  Definitely, the movie will pierce through your heart, as it did mine's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realization:&lt;strong&gt; Be thankful of everything you've got, even if you think you've got nothing.&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that you're reading this means that you have enough to get by and live in this world comfortably.  Some peole out there (i.e. Africa) don't have any food to eat, or any house to live in.  They live day by day wondering if they'll ever get to live the next day, much less eat.  Everyday is a battle.  Everyday is the last day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be thankful of the life you've got.  I myself am guilty of feeling bored of my life sometimes.  A lot of people out there are fighting hard to live and look for food and we have no right to feel bored just because we don't have enough to do to make ourselves entertained.  There's a lot to do.   If you're having a hard time entertaining yourself, go out and help.  Volunteer.  There's a lot of people who need your help, not necessarily your money.  Your time and presence could be enough.  Then you're not  bored and you might have helped one person somehow.  Sometimes you have to think that &lt;b&gt;life is not all about yourself only&lt;/b&gt;.  Coz if it is, then that's when your life becomes boring.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultimately, my question comes in again: &lt;i&gt;What are we here for?&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my case, I'll find it out.  Life is just a matter of choices anyway - choices that very much affect how your life shapes up.  To make the choice is never even difficult.  It's only a matter of right or wrong.  Oftentimes in the past, I always chose to be wrong.  I wanted to be different and &lt;b&gt;wrong&lt;/b&gt; is always different.  A friend said to me that &lt;i&gt;"immorality has become the fad these days."&lt;/i&gt;  It has I guess.  I have always hated to be in a fad as it gets in conflict with my desire to be different.  But I guess I didn't notice that I was in the fad to be different.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crazy as I am, I believe life is a fragile gift.  If we make mistakes, we can never undo them.  We can only learn and hope that the next time we are in the same predicament, we make the right choice and decision.  Then the mistake wasn't wasted.  Then we move on and make our life better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Read somewhere:&lt;/i&gt; Find out what makes you happy &amp; follow what your heart tells you. They may call you foolish, but at least you are a happy fool, not a lonely, empty wise person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Is there something as "tri-life crisis?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111063946435354911?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111063946435354911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111063946435354911&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111063946435354911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111063946435354911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/beyond-borders.html' title='Beyond Borders'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111050655232611988</id><published>2005-03-10T20:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-10T22:07:33.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'>chat  idiocy</title><content type='html'>i am a statistic.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, i am guilty.  yes, i was once one of those people constantly staring on the monitor chatting till the next morning without any sleep whatsoever to somebody in the other side of the world whom i thought as someone i loved.  yikes!  whenever i remember those days, i laugh at myself.   i don't know what got into me but at those times, i felt enamoured with his words on the screen and with everything about him that's just so full of mystery.  i literally dropped everything in my life just to be with him.  that was then.  that was when i was such a naive woman.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, i would have loved to shoot myself-of-then now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after that experience, i vowed never to get involved with someone over the net.  friends, yes.  but to even try to think of some romantic thing, that i would never do again.  it wasn't only a waste of my time, it was a waste of my life.  again, i mean that literally.  i wouldn't go over the details as it's a chapter i would like to keep to myself.  no i would never forget it.  how could i?  3 years ago, i fell in love with someone on the net, or so i thought, and it cost me my life.  yes, my life, my future.  it was a big mistake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd like to think i have been forgiven for that mistake.  i have repented and i am also slowly forgiving myself.  the good breaks that i am getting these days are surely indications that God has forgiven me.  i just have my own self to get over to.  in time.  slowly.  surely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now, i have heard of 3 people succumbing to this chat idiocy.  they met this person on chat, thinks he/she loves this person, and throws their life into that person's hands.  i mean for gawd's sake, you haven't even seen the guy/gal and you're thinking of marrying him/her?  (at least i got to meet my guy, and thus made my idiocy more real!! duh?!?!!)   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what more?  times have also changed.  some people has made chat into a cheap sex  shop.  they chat and meet and have sex.  simple as that.  they go into this enigmatic motive of friendship and yet in the back of their minds, if and whenever they will meet, something will happen.  just a matter of when.  it's like a given.  let's meet.  let's fuck.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have a liberal mind.  but growing up with values (there are still some left, hehe), growing up in a catholic school, it is hard not to feel guilty and feel small whenever i see people that are too too much liberated.  i am just not that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but who can blame them?  everything is relative to your own morality.  i can't judge them.  like i said, i have an open mind.  if they're happy with what they're doing, as long as they come to be responsible of whatever consequenses of their actions are, i raise my hands.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;way to go man/girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------&lt;br /&gt;the author still chats occasionally.  she goes by &lt;i&gt;bardot&lt;/i&gt; on mirc and &lt;i&gt;biatchychic&lt;/i&gt; on yahoo chat.  she hates and doesn't respond to the question asl?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111050655232611988?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111050655232611988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111050655232611988&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111050655232611988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111050655232611988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/chat-idiocy.html' title='chat  idiocy'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111024247928009072</id><published>2005-03-07T19:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-07T20:40:53.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What am I here for?</title><content type='html'>Have you ever asked that question to yourself?  If you did, then I guess you're in the same boat as I am right now - senseless and clueless as to where my life is going.  I am not bored, that I can say.  Christ!  There's a lot going on and a lot I could do to make my life eventful, but for what?  What am I here for?  For what purpose is my existence?  If I would be wiped out from this life right at this moment, nothing would change.  I wouldn't really matter.  My non-existence wouldn't matter.  So why am I here for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I knew I was sick, I have been having these moments when I question my existence.  Didn't know that shoving your death to your face is quite scary.  We all know we'll die but knowing when is really scary.  I don't really know exactly when but when you have statistics to compare it to, it's like knowing when the time really is but not exactly as it is.  Oh well, I've passed the scary emotions of death.  It doesn't even scare me as much as before anymore.  In fact, I sometimes want it.  And that scares me more now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then why would I want to die?  What is in store for me when I die?  You know what scares me most?  Not knowing what's next.  That's why I'm scared of death - because I don't really know what's in there.  Is it heaven?  And what exactly is heaven?  Clouds with people in pretty dresses singing and laughing at what?  Is it hell then?  A place full of hot lava and fire?  That I sure don't want to be in.  Or is it purgatory?  A place full of lost people who don't know where they're going next.  Or are we going back to this same place we call earth as a snake?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just discovered: Whatever is next when I die, I'm not ready for it yet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want more of this life - whatever is in it for me.  Whether I'm needed or not.  Pains and all.  But I do still want to know my purpose.   That I intend to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I were still 13.  The biggest problem I could have is whether I would get in the honor roll or not.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am currently twisting my time reading between The Bourne Ultimatum, The Purpose Driven Life, and A Complicated Kindness while listening to both cd's of Alicia Keys over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know.  I'm crazy.  =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;You can't take anything for granted.  You just have to live by the moment.  &lt;br /&gt;- Nancy, my aerobics instructor&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111024247928009072?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111024247928009072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111024247928009072&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111024247928009072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111024247928009072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/what-am-i-here-for.html' title='What am I here for?'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111016551013953618</id><published>2005-03-06T21:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-06T22:44:16.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>toboganning</title><content type='html'>newsflash:  my bestfriend Gail is having a baby girl!  yeyyy!  congrats gail and bernard!  =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and here are some pics of our toboganning weekend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://image38.webshots.com/38/4/8/52/289040852KiAzsT_fs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://thumb2.webshots.com/t/34/35/4/8/52/289040852KiAzsT_th.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://image34.webshots.com/35/4/30/36/289043036jNcrzP_fs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://thumb6.webshots.com/t/14/15/4/30/36/289043036jNcrzP_th.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://image38.webshots.com/38/4/57/54/289045754ASocdd_ph.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://thumb4.webshots.com/t/38/39/4/57/54/289045754ASocdd_th.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://image28.webshots.com/28/3/24/64/289032464GxsJOx_ph.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://thumb4.webshots.com/t/14/14/3/24/64/289032464GxsJOx_th.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://image38.webshots.com/39/4/27/86/289042786ockUuC_ph.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://thumb6.webshots.com/t/26/26/4/27/86/289042786ockUuC_th.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://image28.webshots.com/28/3/94/67/289039467zlddia_ph.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://thumb7.webshots.com/t/36/36/3/94/67/289039467zlddia_th.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just read &lt;a href="http://news.inq7.net/entertainment/index.php?index=2&amp;story_id=29608&amp;col=26"&gt;this &lt;/a&gt; news.. BIG reaction from me here... &lt;strong&gt; SO?!?!&lt;/strong&gt;  so what if she is?  the competition is "American Idol."  hello?  granted that she indeed has the blood, just because she has doesn't make her a filipino.  nationality comes from the heart and not from blood.  puh-leez!  let's not be pathetic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111016551013953618?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111016551013953618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111016551013953618&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111016551013953618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111016551013953618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/toboganning.html' title='toboganning'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-111016184000049600</id><published>2005-03-04T21:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-06T21:55:56.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I got this!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.canon.ca/product_images/SD300_240x240.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm happy now. ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-111016184000049600?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/111016184000049600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=111016184000049600&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111016184000049600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/111016184000049600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/i-got-this.html' title='I got this!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110995325868212378</id><published>2005-03-04T11:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-03-04T13:41:46.423-05:00</updated><title type='text'>tong its</title><content type='html'>i spent my last weekend drinking and gambling.  and when i'm drunk, you've got the best amee you can get.  don't be alarmed.  i don't act wierd when i'm drunk.  i don't get myself get laid when i'm drunk.  in fact, i am the smart-ass-est when i'm drunk.  really.  and if you happen to be my boyfriend, you not only get a smart brain, a pretty face and a nice ass, but also a good hump. wehehe.  joke! as for the gambling, tong its lang naman. small time lang. hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, the whole week has been super busy with work.  work should be boring but in fact it was anything but that.  we were crammed up with deadlines so the environment was full of pressure.  i love it!  although i would have wanted to slap one of my officemates and throw her out of the window just to shut her up.  my gawd!  i hate whiners especially if they don't even deserve to whine!  one of these days, when i'm fed up with all the nonsense, i will definitely take out my frustrations to the management.  with the way things are going on, i bet it's going to be sooner.  really, i can't believe how some people get their positions and not know how to do their job and what they're expected to do.  grrr!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now that was me whining.  hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had a chat with my friend who's working in singapore last night.  news of all news, she told me that someone is asking her if it's true that i already have a baby? ngeee!  she told them that the rumor was untrue as she expected me to tell her to deny the truth.  ngek!  hahaha..  well i told her to tell them the truth.  i gave her the authority to tell them the truth.  i don't really care what they will think after knowing what happened to me.  jeez!  i don't give a damn.  all the people that mattered knew about it before and they're all still with me, and that's all that matters to me.  my!  it's been almost 2 years.  a very late rumor.  tsk tsk.  hmm.  although i don't care, i'd love to know their reaction.  hehe.  moi ksp.  haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=font-size:90%&gt;Some people want it all, but I don’t want nothing at all if I ain’t got you baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110995325868212378?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110995325868212378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110995325868212378&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110995325868212378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110995325868212378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/03/tong-its.html' title='tong its'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110921302479528815</id><published>2005-02-23T21:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-23T21:55:45.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'>curse me!</title><content type='html'>tangina.  i just computed my income tax return for this year and i wouldn't be getting any refund.  nada.  in fact, makakabayad pa nga.  grrrr!  bad trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;namaaaan... 2 frickin' fuckin' nights in a row.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anong kasalanan ko at puro ako kamalasan this week?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shit!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really need a good drink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110921302479528815?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110921302479528815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110921302479528815&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110921302479528815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110921302479528815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/curse-me.html' title='curse me!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110912632850053181</id><published>2005-02-22T21:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T21:42:40.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>reality tv</title><content type='html'>This day went fine for me.  Until I decided to check my bank accounts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see last week, I decided to move all my accounts to another bank.  Fine!  But then there were transactions in my old bank that I wanted to keep within the old account to keep things simple.  Now I saw these transactions moved to my new account.  Arrrghhh!  I hate it when things not go my way.  I have specifically instructed not to do that as I have other plans with it and then  I suddenly found out otherwise.  Grrrr!  Made my blood boil up.  Really.  Because of that, I just stayed out of my room and watched TV.  Good thing American Idol was on and I got a peek of this season's contestants.  And I say, wow!  It was an all girls group today and mehn most were great singers and performers.  Pramis!  I haven't seen the guys but the girls really rocked!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;My favourites&lt;/b&gt; (in no particular order)&lt;br /&gt;- Aloha Mischeaux&lt;br /&gt;- Carrie Underwood&lt;br /&gt;- Lindsey Cardinale&lt;br /&gt;- Nadia Turner&lt;br /&gt;- Vonzell Solomon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vonzell, Aloha and Nadia have the voice and the personality to go with them but I particularly love the country voice of Carrie and the 'hypnotic' voice of Lindsey.  I hope they would all still be in next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;------------------------------&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week, the new season of Amazing Race will start.  I promise myself to religiously watch this.  Rhob and Ahmbur are part of the race and although I'm not really a fan of them, it would be interesting to see how these two competetive persons interact in a race in an environment full of pressure.  Oooh!  Can't wait.  Reality TV is fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;------------------------------&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's Joshua to make you smile.  See that smug?  See that smirk?  Whenever I see this kid, I can't help but bite him.  And I mean a really real bite.  Himooos kaayo!  Bugoooyyy!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos5.flickr.com/5271317_a5ac1da688_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos4.flickr.com/5271316_a1d20c5921_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110912632850053181?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110912632850053181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110912632850053181&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110912632850053181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110912632850053181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/reality-tv.html' title='reality tv'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110903465698604507</id><published>2005-02-21T20:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-22T10:59:21.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'>moi Insightful Linguist</title><content type='html'>I took this IQ test online just for fun and was relieved to know that I still have some brains left.  Hehe.  For the past years, I was beginning to feel dumb and it has really weaned my confidence.  Hmmm, naa pa diay matilok.. hehe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here's the gist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Congratulations, Amee!&lt;br /&gt;Your IQ score is 124&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Intellectual Type is Insightful Linguist. This means you are highly intelligent and have the natural fluency of a writer and the visual and spatial strengths of an artist. Those skills contribute to your creative and expressive mind.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me to get the whole report of about 5 pages, I need to pay $12 more.  Nyehehe.  Now why the heck would I pay for that?  I don't need more explanations of how our brain works.  Too draining.  Mabugo` na nuon ta ana.  Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, perhaps I still have some chance of joining MENSA.  Yeah right!  I wish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since I'm into this IQ thingy right now, I got curious and searched for the range of how the IQ scores are classified.  Here's what I got:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;b&gt;Descriptive Classifications of Intelligence Quotients&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IQ &amp;nbsp; Description (% of Population)&lt;br /&gt;130+ &amp;nbsp; Very superior (2.2%)&lt;br /&gt;120-129 &amp;nbsp; Superior (6.7%)&lt;br /&gt;110-119  &amp;nbsp;  High average (16.1%)&lt;br /&gt;90-109 &amp;nbsp;  Average (50%)&lt;br /&gt;80-89 &amp;nbsp;  Low average (16.1%)&lt;br /&gt;70-79 &amp;nbsp; Borderline (6.7%)&lt;br /&gt;Below 7 &amp;nbsp; Extremely low (2.2%) &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm.. Am I a nerd then?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nahhh.  I'm just plain smart. *hambug*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you wanna find out your IQ too, just go to &lt;a href="http://web.tickle.com/tests/uiq/authorize/register.jsp?url=/tests/uiq/index.jsp"&gt;this site.&lt;/a&gt;  Goodluck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110903465698604507?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110903465698604507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110903465698604507&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110903465698604507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110903465698604507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/moi-insightful-linguist.html' title='moi Insightful Linguist'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110895472303281930</id><published>2005-02-20T21:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-21T19:13:55.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Paparazzi</title><content type='html'>Watching the movie paparazzi made me realize never to believe everything you see and read in the papers.  What you see is not always what it is as there's an even bigger story behind a small picture or a scene on the news.  Most of the times, what we read are true, but mostly than not, they're just bloated stories out of innocent incidents.  That's what journalists are good at - making mountains out of mole hills.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie also showed how some people can be very greedy of fame and money.  It doesn't matter how many people they hurt, (or almost got killed as depicted here) as long as they get what they want, in this case, the pictures - whether they may be gory or gross or explicit.  Because these pictures gain our interest, these paparazzis do all they can to get them.  And it's sad to note that it's not really the paparazzi's fault that they thirst to get these kind of pictures.  It's our fault!  It's we, the masses who buy these magazines that give these paparazzis the will and the thirst to look for revealing pictures more and more.  Sad but true.  Coz if we don't buy these magazines, nobody will buy the pictures they've taken.  And coz they can't get money, then they would stop taking shots.  And then there'd be no paparazzi.  Easier said than done though.  Doesn't work in the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes me even wonder more... What really happened to Princess Di?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110895472303281930?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110895472303281930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110895472303281930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110895472303281930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110895472303281930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/paparazzi.html' title='Paparazzi'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110891525782630789</id><published>2005-02-20T10:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T11:07:42.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>friendster blooper 1</title><content type='html'>you know what happens when you've got nothing to do?  you get to think - or do, for this matter, things that you wouldn't normally do when you're normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought of deleting my friendster last week because i got bored with it.  add friends, stalk friends, and then what?  sooo boring.  waste of time.  it's not even making me smile, or laugh.  then i got an idea!  i decided to open access to my friendster to everybody.  if you're familiar with friendster, you would know that you can control the people who can contact you.  i had it set to 3° before - meaning only people who are my friends, friends of my friends, and friends of friends of my friends can message me and can see my profile.  the rest can just ogle - hehe.  i had it set that way coz i really didn't want to receive any "please add me to your friends list" or "can i add you to my friends list?" messages for like every day from people i don't even know.  such dumb ones asking to be added to my friends list when i don't even know them!?!  i mean, duh?  where's your brain man(or woman)?  i got tired of those beings.  that was then.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a couple of days ago, i set it back to "anyone."  meaning anybody who has a friendster account can message me.  account open for everybody to ogle!  har har har!  like a come-on.  c'mon guys message me now.  hahaha.  ksp.  seriously, i thought of looking for fun.  you actually get to receive wierd and funny messages sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;From: Jim&lt;br /&gt;Date: Saturday, February 19, 2005 21:47:00&lt;br /&gt;Subject: hey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Message:&lt;br /&gt;36 american male , single&lt;br /&gt;looking for an intelligent and liberated woman&lt;br /&gt;fetish: exotic asians&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you're pretty. can i see you personally?&lt;/blockquote&gt;hahahahha.. crazy american.  a smart girl wouldn't pick this line. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd blog more friendster bloopers from hereon.  see?  my friendster now has a purpose.  nyehehe...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110891525782630789?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110891525782630789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110891525782630789&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110891525782630789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110891525782630789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/friendster-blooper-1.html' title='friendster blooper 1'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110875902713438112</id><published>2005-02-19T12:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-19T12:40:07.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Recent *whatever*</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Recent Listens:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything - Fefe Dobson&lt;br /&gt;Luka - Suzanne Vega &lt;br /&gt;Stay - Lisa Loeb&lt;br /&gt;Good Mother - Jann Arden&lt;br /&gt;Try - Nelly Furtado &lt;br /&gt;Barenaked - Jennifer Love Hewitt &lt;br /&gt;Sway - Bic Runga &lt;br /&gt;Lost in Space - Lighthouse Family &lt;br /&gt;Separate Lives - Stephen Bishop &lt;br /&gt;Kiss Me - Sixpence None The Richer&lt;br /&gt;Thank You - Dido &lt;br /&gt;I Do - Lisa Loeb &lt;br /&gt;You Gotta Be - Des'ree &lt;br /&gt;This Kiss - Faith Hill&lt;br /&gt;Good Morning Baby - Dan Wilson &lt;br /&gt;Same Ground - Kitchie Nadal&lt;br /&gt;More Than Words - Extreme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Recent Reads:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Five People You Meet in Heaven - Mitch Albom &lt;br /&gt;The Bourne Identity - Robert Ludlum &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Currently Reading:&lt;/b&gt; The Bourne Supremacy - Robert Ludlum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Future Reads &lt;/b&gt;(books on the shelf waiting to be read):&lt;br /&gt;The Bourne Ultimatum - Robert Ludlum&lt;br /&gt;Perfect - Judith McNaught &lt;br /&gt;Trading Places - Fern Michaels&lt;br /&gt;A Complicated Kindness - Miriam Toews &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Recent Watches:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bourne Identity &lt;br /&gt;The Bourne Supremacy &lt;br /&gt;Paparazzi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:80%"&gt;I really wanted to post something intelligible but I'm just not in the mood.  But I really want to post something.  So here's the enumeration type postie instead.  =)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110875902713438112?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110875902713438112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110875902713438112&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110875902713438112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110875902713438112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/recent-whatever.html' title='Recent *whatever*'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110860661478934373</id><published>2005-02-16T21:16:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-19T20:53:27.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>so h/s again</title><content type='html'>arrghhh! i am extremely frustrated.  it has been hours since i started searching for him and i still can't find any information.  what with a very common name as my only data, finding even a byte about him is as good as nil.  grrr!  i am really pissed.  my stalking powers are not working dammit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;breath in.  count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.  breath out.&lt;br /&gt;breath in.  count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.  breath out.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gawd!  here i go again.  so high school again.  so before i go on and be my giggly self every so often from hereforth, i now apologize in advance.  i know i'm turning 30 soon but it seems my mind and heart are way minus 15.  oh wait.. i take that back.  i shouldn't really apologize.  i'm giggly and so high school and feeling young and i am proud and happy to be!  no apologies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;so who's this guy?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i could tell you.  truth is, i only know his first name.  i have known him since i came here in canada but i have never really minded him because he's just not my type.  never was, never still.  that's why it's really boggling me that i am having this crushy giggly feelings for him now!  namaaaan.  he's not even that handsome!  (or maybe he is as when i told my friend he's my current crush, she didn't comment that he's ugly.  nyehehe.. the last crush i had, she readily said na pangit!  hahaha.. shhhh..) pakshyet!  just when i thought i could go on for awhile without thinking of any being with a penis, somebody has another plan.  and you know what?  i actually welcome this - whatever and wherever this leads me to.  i have just accomplished 3 milestones in my life and i am ready for another challenge.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so amee, let's stalk!  hehehe..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;info on hand: first name.  &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yap.  i only have his first name.  and like i said, it's a very common first name.  even if i google for a whole day, i wouldn't really find any relevant info about him.  what more, if he's not the x-gen type, then googling him was really a waste of time.  come to think of it, i am stupid for even trying.  i knew i wouldn't find anything but i still tried.  oh well, that's just me - plain dumb when infatuated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;assignment: find his last name, where he lives, where he works, how old he is, and most importantly, whether or not he's single.  &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when we meet again, i will ask him.  pramis!  i won't be tongue-tied again like the last time.  hehehe.. ayayyayyy! mister vaughn, you better be ready as you're going to fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;... in my arms&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, i do apologize for being corny.  *giggles*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110860661478934373?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110860661478934373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110860661478934373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/so-hs-again.html' title='so h/s again'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110834876499684575</id><published>2005-02-14T06:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T21:49:03.920-05:00</updated><title type='text'>happy hearts day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt; &lt;span style="color:red"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY Gail!!!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;for all of us singles! &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos3.flickr.com/4764373_04dc87f03c_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the funny and the interesting ones...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos5.flickr.com/4764375_51ed9f87cf_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos5.flickr.com/4764374_94becae124_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos3.flickr.com/4764372_c10a852576_m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:90%"&gt;images from &lt;a href="http://www.meish.org/vd/"&gt;www.meish.org/vd/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110834876499684575?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110834876499684575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110834876499684575&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110834876499684575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110834876499684575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/happy-hearts-day.html' title='happy hearts day!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110814667338624030</id><published>2005-02-13T10:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T13:28:47.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Popular Searches in my Friendster</title><content type='html'>I am thinking of deleting my Friendster account just because it has become the norm.  One thing I definitely don't like is to be with the norm.  Being different has always been better - especially when you get to shock people.  It gives me a different kind of thrill.  Wierd ei?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here's the list of popular searches in my Friendster network: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;  1. how to win an ex back&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeeez!  Talk about losers here.  Hehe.  Should be: how to win an x-box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;   2. Free Ringtones&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just explains the Filipino addiction to cellphones and ringtones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;   3. zodiac love match&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oiy!  Guilty!  I do this too.  =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;   4. filipina babes&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pervert guys in my network looking for Aubrey Miles or the Sexbomb girls.  Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;   5. men on briefs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pervert ladies in my network looking for Mark Wahlberg's Kliens?  Oi oi.  Sosyal ang girls!  Pang international!  Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;   6. MY NAME IN JAPANESE&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably because most were in one way or another been to Japan, is a friend of someone who's been to Japan, is working in one of the numerous Japanese companies in Cebu, or is just curious on what her/his name is in Japanese.  Nyehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;   7. kissing tips&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arrgghhh!  Mehn!  Just plug it in!  Hehehe.  Well I don't need those tips as I know I'm good at it.  *hambug*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;   8. physical therapist salary&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most popular course in my time, after nursing.  That was when computers were still unknown to some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;   9. magic card tricks&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Errr, what for?  Some must have been looking for ways to impress someone.  *smiles*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;  10. latest nokia mobile phones&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the cellphone craze goes on.  Part II.  Nokia rules eh?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;LSS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Love of my life&lt;br /&gt;You hurt me&lt;br /&gt;You've broken my heart&lt;br /&gt;Now you leave me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love of my life can't you see&lt;br /&gt;Bring it back bring it back&lt;br /&gt;Don't take it away from me&lt;br /&gt;Because you don't know what it means to me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110814667338624030?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110814667338624030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110814667338624030&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110814667338624030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110814667338624030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/popular-searches-in-my-friendster.html' title='Popular Searches in my Friendster'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110800254909988489</id><published>2005-02-09T21:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-16T21:54:59.610-05:00</updated><title type='text'>child labor</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;clearly, this is CHILD ABUSE!!! &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos3.flickr.com/4542681_6e41fcad67.jpg" width="352" height="288" alt="j004" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;josh?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos3.flickr.com/4542680_bcfb3225a7.jpg" width="352" height="288" alt="j004" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;come to tita...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos3.flickr.com/4542682_7212f43efa.jpg" width="352" height="288" alt="j004" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;you can do it!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos3.flickr.com/4542679_20eb0ed646.jpg" width="352" height="288" alt="j004" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;good boy!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehehehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;in the photos is Joshua, a friend's son, who insisted on carrying one of the bags of grocery we did awhile ago.  isn't he cute??  ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#FF0000;" "size:120%;"&gt;Kung Hei Fat Choi!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110800254909988489?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110800254909988489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110800254909988489&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110800254909988489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110800254909988489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/child-labor.html' title='child labor'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110774932668359581</id><published>2005-02-06T22:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-12T23:13:50.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>winterlude 2005</title><content type='html'>with the temperature at a high +3 this weekend, winterlude is great! at least for me. as i am not a very big fan of the very cold weather here, the warm winterlude (warm daw!) is fine with me thank you. for the first time, i enjoyed watching the ice sculptures longer than i normally do had it been a -20. i didn't really care if they were melting as they were still pretty decipherable to me and were still a beauty even if they were melting.  how i wish winterlude is always this warm, hehe...  i wish!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos3.flickr.com/4385152_6c373758ac_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos3.flickr.com/4385152_6c373758ac.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;at the rideau canal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos4.flickr.com/4385183_65e1ed1e4c_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos4.flickr.com/4385183_65e1ed1e4c.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me, ryan, salyn &amp; lilil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos4.flickr.com/4385175_73a320d029_b.jpg"&gt; &lt;img src="http://photos4.flickr.com/4385175_73a320d029.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me, myself and the cold ice &lt;br /&gt;(parang bang sungay or wings?  angel or demon?  nyehehe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110774932668359581?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110774932668359581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110774932668359581&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110774932668359581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110774932668359581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/winterlude-2005_06.html' title='winterlude 2005'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110718522710378795</id><published>2005-02-01T22:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-02-01T22:40:56.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>mind works</title><content type='html'>presented with a situation, i always find myself dissecting and analyzing whatever pieces of information i have on hand.  if these information are interesting enough, i go and look for more.  and if i really like it, i make the situation more interesting just to prolong the feeling that i'm feeling at that moment, whether it would make me feel great or bad.  thinking is like a drug.  it gives me some exhilaration.  until i regress.  sometimes, i think this craft is what's making my life too confusing.  whatever i think at the moment affects my mood which most often than not makes me brood.  like traffic lights: i either go green and brood; yellow and breath in, breath out; or stop and laugh at myself.  if i find myself a complex character to understand, how much more can another person make a coherence analysis of me?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i understand when people can't understand me.  i myself can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;it's february so let me be mushy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style:"font-size:110%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CAUTION: TOO MUSHY IT MAY CAUSE YOU NAUSEA.  YOU'VE BEEN WARNED! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not in love&lt;br /&gt;but i'd like to think &lt;br /&gt;that i'm in love&lt;br /&gt;even if i'm not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why?  you may ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;perhaps because&lt;br /&gt;i miss the headaches&lt;br /&gt;and the heartaches &lt;br /&gt;that comes with love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but more than those&lt;br /&gt;i miss the loving&lt;br /&gt;i miss the missing&lt;br /&gt;i miss the cuddling&lt;br /&gt;i miss the kissing&lt;br /&gt;i miss the bleeping&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the i love you's&lt;br /&gt;the i miss you's &lt;br /&gt;the muaahs&lt;br /&gt;the aaahhhs&lt;br /&gt;the holding hands&lt;br /&gt;the stares&lt;br /&gt;the looks&lt;br /&gt;the sweet silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope someday&lt;br /&gt;i still get the chance&lt;br /&gt;to have someone&lt;br /&gt;who has as much &lt;br /&gt;passion as i have&lt;br /&gt;to love again&lt;br /&gt;as passionately&lt;br /&gt;as i ever can&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;breakups suck!  moreso if you're left pining for him still.  more more so if you're pining and you actually hope and believe that there's still something left for you to get back at him.  more more more so if you actually get back at him.  by then, you're not only acting stupid.   you are really being stupid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how many times have i been stupid, you ask?  lemme count... 4 times!  wow!  a quarter times ehstuhphida! nyehehe!  and to top it all, it has been the same guy over and over and over again.  sheesh!  i don't know if anybody could beat that!  then again, i guess only he can beat me at that!  i guess you know by now that i'm referring to the flame, my loser ex-boyfriend.  loser is he who dumps me.  wahahaha!!  i'm being the assuming biatch that i am.  hehe.. oh btw, he didn't dump me.  i dumped him!  but he did got a girl pregnant before i could dump him... tsk tsk.. naisahan ko dah!  mah pride was hurt.  hated him for awhile.  wished him the worst worst worst wish one could ever dream of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that was way long ago.   now i can't even fault him for what happened.   i know.  i'm kind eh?!  or maybe i'm just that open-minded.  because i think too much, a time always comes when even the worst that happened to me becomes the best i can ever be grateful for.  i'm not really sure if that is good for me.  it's good because it allows me to move on with my life and forget the angst i feel for awhile.  it's good because even after all the heartaches, i can still go back to my old sane-but-crazy self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now why am i talking about breakups?  la lang.. it just came up on my mind.  i was thinking if i learned something from those sorry bastards.  i think a lot.  in fact, i think too too much.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:90%"&gt;-- originally written october 28, 2004 -- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Recent Watches:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Raising Helen&lt;br /&gt;- The Audrey Hepburn Story&lt;br /&gt;- Alien Versus Predator&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------&lt;span style="font-size:90%; font-color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you're one of those people who gets in a person's life fast like a lightning and goes out faster before I can even get the chance to touch or hold your hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110718522710378795?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110718522710378795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110718522710378795&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110718522710378795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110718522710378795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/02/mind-works.html' title='mind works'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110670547108026630</id><published>2005-01-25T20:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-26T16:41:22.556-05:00</updated><title type='text'>musings</title><content type='html'>why is it that when you're trying mighty hard to forget someone, that someone suddenly pesters you.  and just when you thought you have gained your balance back, you remember the past - the long sweet talks, the good times.  and when you haven't gotten over the past just yet, i bet you'd still probably hate him - like i'm hating him right now.  grrrr!  just when i thought i'm over him, he goes on telling me i'm very special?  pakhim!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this past couple of days has been total hypocrisy from me.  i don't know what happened but i suddenly missed him.  great eh!?!  with nothing much to do, i was lost in my own world again, thinking of him, thinking that perhaps, we still have some chance.  and i hate myself for going back to that thought again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;memo to self: IT'S OVER!  MOVE ON!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need my shrink!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pastor?  where are you?  if you're reading this, please help.  i need your words of wisdom my friend.  =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't get any sleep last night.  i so missed him i almost attempted calling him.  i'm just glad to know that i didn't gave in to my craving.  these are times when i'm thankful to have so much pride.  i probably would have killed myself this morning have i called him.  hehe..  now there goes my old self!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay.  i now know what to do.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;deleted his name in all my contact lists.&lt;br /&gt;deleted his number in my celfon.&lt;br /&gt;deleted his email in my address book.&lt;br /&gt;deleted his yahoo id.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;problem is, i know them all by heart.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well.  at least i'm trying.  and i'll be praying hard for His help and guidance.  ayokong matuliro ulit.  hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish for my peace back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good luck to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;how pathetic is this?  i have been staring at the note he sent me for about an hour now.  it has only 55 letters - which includes my name, his name and the word &lt;strike&gt;love&lt;/strike&gt;.  jeez!  i know i'm pathetic.  i'm indulging myself tonight as tomorrow everything is gonna be out of sight.  i hope that will help me keep him out of my mind... &lt;i&gt;and heart.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;wag na wag mong sasabihin&lt;br /&gt;na hindi mo nadama &lt;br /&gt;itong pag-ibig kong &lt;br /&gt;handang ibigay &lt;br /&gt;kahit pa kalayaan mo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:90%"&gt;i thought of not writing these thoughts here but i thought this might also help me ease my pain.  and it did.  =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110670547108026630?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110670547108026630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110670547108026630&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110670547108026630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110670547108026630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/musings.html' title='musings'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110644939577355163</id><published>2005-01-22T21:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T22:47:51.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kailangan Kita</title><content type='html'>Have you ever felt that feeling that you need someone to complete you?  I used to feel that way, back when I was still that naive and trusting girl.   Now?  I think that's just plain bull shit!  Why would you ever need someone to complete you?  You are you just by being yourself.  You are a complete being as anybody else and you don't need any human being to feel complete.   You came into this world already complete so why would you need someone to fill something that's not empty or even there?  If you don't feel complete, it's not somebody who can fill it up.  It's just you.  You make your own life.  You make your own destiny.  You make who you are.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I making sense?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or do I sound like a man hater?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeez!  This is how I usually feel after watching a movie where some girl or guy is so dumb not to fight for her/his rights as a person.  You know, yung mga api-api.  It just annoys me so much.  And for Filipino films, you get a lot of that, especially the girl.  A probinsiyana girl na api-api.  Grrrrr!  Too 70's.  I'm just glad I wasn't born on that era.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.kabayancentral.com/video/star/cpstkk.html"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.kabayancentral.com/video/star/stkk.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just watched the film of Aga Mulach and Claudine Baretto titled "Kailagan Kita" and I so cried hard I looked like somebody who lost a parent.  Really.      Ka-relate ako.  Waaaaaa!   But the title is lost.  I don't know why it's titled that way but that's Filipino movie for you.  As long as you say it in one of the dialogues, it becomes the title.  Ngyehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie made me think about my life too.  If my life were a movie, would I also get my happy ending a year later?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110644939577355163?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110644939577355163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110644939577355163&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110644939577355163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110644939577355163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/kailangan-kita.html' title='Kailangan Kita'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110644188008531089</id><published>2005-01-22T19:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T22:49:58.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'>imac g5 addict</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://a248.e.akamai.net/7/248/2041/741/store.apple.com/Catalog/US/Images/productshot_imac3_0804.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i so want an imac that i am willing to splurge just to stop this feeling of helplessness of not having one.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;umm, perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as of this time, i'm still sane.  i hope to stay sane without having the imac.  waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! *crying fit*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i want a g5!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110644188008531089?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110644188008531089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110644188008531089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110644188008531089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110644188008531089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/imac-g5-addict.html' title='imac g5 addict'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110616144525533797</id><published>2005-01-22T19:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-22T19:04:41.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1st wk @work</title><content type='html'>A-Okay.  I actually got what I expected.  Training was and will be informal and will go through months. Lots of things needed to be changed in the office specifically the way things are managed.  I am going to be the kontrabida when the rules are gonna be  implemented but I probably won't mind it.  Hehe.  I won't mind somebody hating me for doing my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have actually learned a lot of non-office thingies in my 1-week stint. One of which is knowing how to do a conference using my celfon.  I know that's easy but my friend Cha and I don't know how to do that and we experimented with our celfons while on a break.  O di ba?  A learning break.  Hehe.  Also, during lunch break, we take it together with the other women in the office in one room (it's a small company and we don't have a cafeteria)and this is when really interesting topics come out.  Like sex.  Hehe.  And one word I learned?  Tea-bagging.  Hehehe.  If you know it, good for you!  I really don't have to explain it here as it's super bastos.  Hahaha.  But if you're interested to know, e-mail me and I'll gladly explain the details of the word, or act for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing interesting happening with my life for the week.  It was work work work.  Boring but peaceful.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is being at peace equivalent to having a boring life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I miss having someone to miss.&lt;br /&gt;I miss having someone to think of.&lt;br /&gt;I miss having someone to take care of.&lt;br /&gt;I miss having someone to love.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tangina.  Love na naman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110616144525533797?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110616144525533797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110616144525533797&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110616144525533797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110616144525533797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/1st-wk-work.html' title='1st wk @work'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110601595195621132</id><published>2005-01-17T21:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-17T21:39:11.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Abuse of Iraqui POWs</title><content type='html'>This is old news but I just saw the entirety of &lt;a href="http://www.antiwar.com/news/?articleid=2444"&gt; these&lt;/a&gt; pictures and it really made my view of America lower than it already is.  Indeed, may God bless America.  May God forgive you after all these human violation. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110601595195621132?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110601595195621132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110601595195621132&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110601595195621132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110601595195621132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/abuse-of-iraqui-pows.html' title='Abuse of Iraqui POWs'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110593176912213280</id><published>2005-01-16T22:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-16T22:16:09.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my man</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.johnnydeppfan.com/portraits/cesquire.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ohhhh!  spells s-e-x.  ooohzing with "the" appeal.  don't you just want to kiss and taste him all over?  wish i'm that cigarette he sucks, errr.. sniffs or blows or whatever.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110593176912213280?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110593176912213280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110593176912213280&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110593176912213280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110593176912213280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/my-man.html' title='my man'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110588760527606914</id><published>2005-01-16T20:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-16T22:40:21.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>end of vacation</title><content type='html'>Things I did for the last 10 days:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Made around 10 template graphics.  The last one is this which is the simplest of all.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hit the gym back after 3 weeks of missing it.  Yes, my body is really sore right now. =( &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watched the following movies in DVD:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;King Arthur&lt;br /&gt;Troy&lt;br /&gt;Wicker Park&lt;br /&gt;Intolerable Cruelty&lt;br /&gt;Laws of Attraction&lt;br /&gt;Sabel&lt;br /&gt;Walang Kapalit&lt;br /&gt;John Q&lt;br /&gt;High Crimes&lt;br /&gt;Croupier&lt;br /&gt;The Recruit&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watched Elektra on the first day. (yesterday, 011505)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Played chikicha.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I know.  All pretty nonsense eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just read on Reader's Digest that Michael Jackson is Canadian.  Is he really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought a copy of Fitness magazine for the month of February as I saw exercises to sculpt the legs and thighs and moves to tone and tighten abs in just 7 days.  Let's see if what the mag says are true.  Ummm, let's see if I can even start to do the moves.  Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's an article from the magazine that I would like to share.&lt;blockquote&gt; 4 Habits of Successful Women&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have the courage to fall.  &lt;i&gt; Look at failure as fodder for your life's story and it won't be as daunting.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Embrace your discomfort. &lt;i&gt;Laid off?  Betrayed by a friend?  Use these moments of uncertainty as opportunities to be creative and energetic.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fight with information. &lt;i&gt;Whether you're making a point or trying to win an argument, have all the facts at your disposal.  Do research, prepare for any outcome, and don't let emotions cloud your judgment.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tune out the naysayers.&lt;i&gt;  Don't allow skeptics to kill your dream with their negativity.  Know what you want to do and why.  Then go do it.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need I say more? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be starting my new job tomorrow.  I am anxious and nervous for my first day.  Wish me luck! ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110588760527606914?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110588760527606914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110588760527606914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110588760527606914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110588760527606914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/end-of-vacation.html' title='end of vacation'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110580769921219678</id><published>2005-01-15T11:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-15T12:31:05.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pit Senyor!</title><content type='html'>it's sunday in the philippines right now and i'm missing the sinulog festival - again!  to all ya cebuanos out there - Pit Senyor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yey!  a new layout.  any comments/suggestions/complaints, let me know.  shoot me okay?  (that's the tagboard on the right, just in case you didn't get what i meant.  *wink*) one already complained that the color sucks!  ummm.. you suck lyn!  hahaha.  i have been having sleepless nights making this friggin' template (graphics and code) and i get no lovin'?  *sniff sniff*  anyway, i don't know if it's just your monitor or what but the color is actually clear at my end.  let's see.  if i get more complaints regarding the font colors, i'll take care of them.  for now, this will be my layout.  a bright one!  enough of dark colors right now. =)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got no interesting update on my life right now - love or whatever.  well, except that i've been reading the bible again, thanks to gerson.  really, it's been more than a year since i touched it.  i was forced(?? hehe) to read it one time when gerson was giving me verses on what i should read at the time we talked.  bible sharing kumbaga.  i was sharing him my life and he was trying to analyse my life.  opened old wounds again.  which reminded me that i haven't really gotten over my past.  i try to just ignore it.  but the point is, the fact that you're ignoring something means that something is there.  i really have to forgive.  yes, the past can't be forgotten.  it will always be there and for all the errs that i made or were inflicted to me, they will all be remembered.  what matters is if i have forgiven them and myself.  that i have to face.  ignoring just isn't an option anymore or i will forever be in this deep chasm.  really now.   i want to smile when i think of anybody, especially if you came to hurt me one time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"what doesn't challenge you makes you weak.  what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."&lt;/i&gt;  and it's true.  i am stronger now, ready for more challenges.  but i am really tired of being strong.  i hope the one up above would make me weak for now, even for just awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110580769921219678?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110580769921219678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110580769921219678&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110580769921219678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110580769921219678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/pit-senyor.html' title='Pit Senyor!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110562539525674936</id><published>2005-01-13T09:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-13T09:09:55.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>listening to...</title><content type='html'>Because of You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Kelly Clarkson&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will not make the same mistakes that you did &lt;br /&gt;I will not let myself cause my heart so much misery &lt;br /&gt;I will not break the way you did &lt;br /&gt;You fell so hard &lt;br /&gt;I've learned the hard way, to never let it get that far &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of you &lt;br /&gt;I never stray too far from the sidewalk &lt;br /&gt;Because of you &lt;br /&gt;I learned to play on the safe side&lt;br /&gt;So I don't get hurt &lt;br /&gt;Because of you &lt;br /&gt;I find it hard to trust &lt;br /&gt;Not only me, but everyone around me &lt;br /&gt;Because of you &lt;br /&gt;I am afraid &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lose my way &lt;br /&gt;And it's not too long before you point it out &lt;br /&gt;I cannot cry &lt;br /&gt;Because I know that's weakness in your eyes &lt;br /&gt;I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh&lt;br /&gt;Every day of my life &lt;br /&gt;My heart can't possibly break &lt;br /&gt;When it wasn't even whole to start with &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched you die &lt;br /&gt;I heard you cry&lt;br /&gt;Every night in your sleep &lt;br /&gt;I was so young &lt;br /&gt;You should have known better than to lean on me &lt;br /&gt;You never thought of anyone else &lt;br /&gt;You just saw your pain &lt;br /&gt;And now I cry &lt;br /&gt;In the middle of the night &lt;br /&gt;For the same damn thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of you &lt;br /&gt;I never stray too far from the sidewalk &lt;br /&gt;Because of you &lt;br /&gt;I learned to play on the safe side &lt;br /&gt;So I don't get hurt &lt;br /&gt;Because of you &lt;br /&gt;I tried my hardest just to forget everything &lt;br /&gt;Because of you &lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to let anyone else in &lt;br /&gt;Because of you &lt;br /&gt;I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty &lt;br /&gt;Because of you &lt;br /&gt;I am afraid &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110562539525674936?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110562539525674936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110562539525674936&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110562539525674936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110562539525674936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/listening-to.html' title='listening to...'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110558800915877462</id><published>2005-01-13T00:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-13T00:37:00.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>on reflect</title><content type='html'>it's 12:27am and after a week of trying, i still haven't finished my darn template!  arrgghh!  i hope i finish this before my vacation ends.  i really want a new look for this blog.  hehe..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aside from creating a new template, fixing other peoples computers and watching dvds, i have been regularly chatting with gerson - my college barkada turned pastor (pastor ba gid??) and he has been barraging me with lectures.  ngyeh!  it seems like God appointed him to help me change, for the good of course!  nyehehe..  mind you, his lectures and pieces of advice seem to be working.  hmmm.. i now have two shrinks!  hehehe.. syaro di pa jud ko maulian sa akong old good self (daw!).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of shrinks, my other shrink got married last 9th of january. congrats hazel bessie king tan-ting.  ngyah!  grabiiiha na last name dah!  hehe.. hmmm.. everybody is really getting hitched.  nagkagamay ang akong kalahi.  nyehehe.. well as my friend kim says, some people are just born to enjoy single life longer, if not forever.  it's the art of being contented that matters.  o see?  i consider kim as the prettiest among my friends (really!) and yet single pa dyapon siya till now.  i guess it's really hard for us pretty girls to find the right guy for us. ngyeheheh!  as if!  =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110558800915877462?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110558800915877462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110558800915877462&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110558800915877462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110558800915877462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/on-reflect.html' title='on reflect'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110554379997678342</id><published>2005-01-12T09:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T16:41:43.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>busy bum</title><content type='html'>i feel so fat today.  i think i ate a zillion chocolates last night!  (the almond eggs type)  i'm not a chocolate eater so my stomach really complained afterwards.  we were playing cards through the night (chikicha.. hehe.) so i was picking and picking bits of chocolate eggs until the end of the game.  that was 2 hours!  man!  to think that i skipped the gym yesterday only to eat tons of chocolates!!  darn!  now i really have to go today.  i must.  i must.  i must improve my.. err.. 'nuff with my mumbles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being a bum, i thought i would be able to make an entry everyday since i wouldn't be busy with anything.  so much for that thought.  i haven't been in any writing mode lately.  i dunno.  it seems that i only get the urge to write whenever i am depressed or angry.  and since i am going through a neutral mode right now - which means i'm neither depressed nor angry, i can't make myself to write.  oh well, i'd take my "neutral" self over my "writer" (daw!) self anytime.  =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;these past few days of bumming have been busy.  that is - busy catching up with old friends, either chatting or emailing them.  and who would have thought that i have one friend who is into blogging also?  ngyehehe.. bad introduction gers!  haha.. but for everyone out there, please check my friend &lt;a href="http://gboston.blogspot.com/"&gt;Gerson Boston's blog&lt;/a&gt; from time to time in the near future.  ayaw sa lang karon kay walay sulod.  ngek!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos3.flickr.com/3284721_a9eee01d0a.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;i&gt;ooohhhh!&lt;/i&gt;  the ooohhhhh is for boracay!  hehe.. kalaong mo ikaw gers!  hehe..  wow!  naka tie-dyed shirt pa jud.. boracay outfit gid ah.. yudi!  now that picture made me miss boracay.  *sniff sniff* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110554379997678342?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110554379997678342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110554379997678342&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110554379997678342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110554379997678342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/busy-bum.html' title='busy bum'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110498242435350778</id><published>2005-01-06T08:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-15T12:19:17.956-05:00</updated><title type='text'>survey time</title><content type='html'>My first day of bumming.  And like what usually happens when I don't have any reason to wake up to, I woke up early.  Grrrr!  Would love to sleep more but my eyes and my body just won't cooperate with what I want to do.  So here I am, drinking coffee and tinkering my notebook again.  As I was blog-hopping, I got through some who have this survey I answered below.  I don't know where they got it but I liked it so here's my turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800000;"&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Five Things You May Not Know About My Time in School&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; I got a red C (equivalent to 75 for failure!) in my quarterly card for Math when I was in Grade 2.  That was my first and last.  The C made me study math, love math, and be good at it. (umm, a little.  hehe.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was a pambato for singing contests in grade school but only goes second to my stepsister who always win the contests.  I switched to dancing in high school mostly dancing with my stepsister's friends.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I usually have a part in programs in high school - either to say the  opening prayer, opening remarks or closing remarks, or to dance.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was a consistent honor student in high school and graduated second honorable mention.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I graduated high school without a boyfriend.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800000;"&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Five Things You May Not Know About the Job/s I Have &lt;br /&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; (or Had or Don't Have)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My first job was for a Cebu-based Japanese company that is just a year old where everybody hired is trained in Japan.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My first job was like an extension of college, more studying, but with pay now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have worked as an asparagus picker and lasted only a day as I got sick the very next day.  It was pure hard labor.  Whew!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I worked at a call center from Nov 2001- December 2004 providing tech support to idiot Americans.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wish to put up an art or fashion business. (plan to study art =))&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800000;"&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Five Things You May Not Know About My Online Life&lt;/span&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am always online.  Always - 24/7.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I chat over IRC and Yahoo chat when I am super bored but I usually just chat with whoever is online of my friends on YM.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;After reading the news at PDI and Philstar, I mostly blog-hop, chat with friends on YM, or write(email, blog) when I'm online.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have always maintained a website or some kind every year since I learned to make one (1997).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I once made it a point to have an email account to any free email account providers.  Name it, I have it.  Now I only keep and check gmail and rocketmail, and yahoo once in a while.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800000;"&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Five Things You May Not Know About Where I Live&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I currently live with a family with 2 sons renting one of the rooms.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We live in a single bungalow house with 4 rooms.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I live in Ottawa, Canada.&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;I live in the capital city of Canada. &lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;I live in a place where half of the year is freakin' freezing cold. =( &lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800000;"&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Five Things You May Not Know About My Home Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;We stay in our own private rooms most of the time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We only see each other when watching a movie at the sala.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;All my callers call me on my cellphone.  So when the home phone rings, I don't answer it, even if I'm the only one left home. Hehehe.&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;We each have our own notebooks (2 sons and I) and we each play loud music at the same time.  (I know it's crazy, and noisy too.  Hehe.) &lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt; I don't touch any chore related to snow. Shovel? Nahhh.  Sorry. &lt;/li&gt; &lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800000;"&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Five Things You May Not Know that I Desperately Want&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;a  Mac G5&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a cute Canon digital camera&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a Hummer&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a yearly round-trip ticket (Phils.-Canada)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a lover  *har har har*&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800000;"&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Five Embarrassing Fannish Admissions I Have That You May Not Know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was an ardent gwapings fan and used to melt on Eric Fructuoso.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was a die hard Shery Cruz fan to the point that I sent her a letter to ask for an autographed picture.  I got one but I don't know where the picture is now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I used to love Leonardo di Caprio when he wasn't famous yet.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I loved Palibhasa Lalake and watched the show till the last episode. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was and still am a shameless Jason Priestley fan.  I brought with me the Beverly Hills 90210 memoir I have of him that was given by a friend when we were still in Japan.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#800000;"&gt; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Five Things You May Not Know About What I Do in a Typical Day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The minute I wake up, I first check my email.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am on YM 24/7, invisible most of the time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I change to my pajamas right when I get home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If I'm not in front of the computer, I'm in my bed reading a book.&lt;/li&gt; &lt;li&gt;I go to the gym.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110498242435350778?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110498242435350778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110498242435350778&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110498242435350778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110498242435350778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/survey-time.html' title='survey time'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110495692417639186</id><published>2005-01-05T15:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-07T00:32:47.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hear me out ladies!</title><content type='html'>I just hate it when journalists generalize their comments.  Like they present their feelings and views as the feelings and views of the entire nation too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;After FPJ's death in December, Susan Roces once again came into the limelight when she spoke out against what she felt was the mass media's biased coverage of her husband's campaign and lashed out against the insincerity of politicians now rushing to pay homage to FPJ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nation noticed, and approved, touched by her ability to speak out, mincing no words and yet maintaining her composure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;- Pinoy Kasi: Michael Tan of &lt;a href="http://www.inq7.net"&gt;PDI&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Umm, hello?  The nation did noticed as I bet her face was all over the idiot box, but approved??  Touched??  I do not approve and I know a hell lot of people who do not approve of her attitude when her husband died.  She seems to direct that some people were politicking her husband's death when it was she herself who was politicking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ms. Roces, please just shut up.  I would have admired you if you have just mourned quietly.  Did you really have to whine at that time?  You do have the right to rant as it's a free country but it just wasn't the right time.  Unless of course you have plans of getting into politics, of which I am really getting suspicious of now.  Please please prove me wrong on this notion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know but I feel something brewing secretly.  Ever heard of Corazon Aquino?  I hope I'm wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Macapagal-Arroyo is just plain dense.  For saying that the tsunami that hit several Asian countries should make the Philippines more attractive as a tourist destination is heartless.   It was boorish and uncalled for.  How could she say that?  It was like rubbing salt to injury.  It was like saying "beeh buti nga sa inyo nang dito naman magsipunta ang mga turista."  Such a cheap way to promote tourism in our country.  And did she think our beaches are safe?    Can she guarantee that to the tourists, much less to us that our beaches are safe?  It's GLOBAL warming for crying out loud!  No beach is safe anywhere in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naman Ms. President.  I don't know if it's because of too much association with Kris Aquino (thereby being that tactless now) or you're really just that - cold and heartless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110495692417639186?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110495692417639186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110495692417639186&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110495692417639186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110495692417639186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/hear-me-out-ladies.html' title='Hear me out ladies!'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110487086530790506</id><published>2005-01-04T15:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-04T15:50:26.076-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Y O U</title><content type='html'>Yes you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're a lurker, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only a few of my close friends know about this site.  I haven't made this site public yet as my life is still a mess with nothing to be proud of.  When I feel like I have crept up from the pit I'm in right now, perhaps I'll go public and will shamelessly plug the site to all the groups I'm affiliated with.  In the meantime, I'll stay quiet in this corner with only a few readers, with some like you - a lurker. And since you're just a lurker, I'm sure you think I'm really a neurotic person in real life.  Well, partly I am.  But what I write here isn't even half of my personality.  Not even 5%.  So If you're planning to judge me on the basis of what I have written in this blog, please don't.  You don't know me.  Most of the times, this is just my sounding board to rant about my life that sucks right now.  I may write about hating somebody at some point but it doesn't mean that I hate that person after that.  Change is a constant thing.  Same goes with my feelings.  I may hate you right now but give me a couple of minutes and I'll love you back again.  Confused?  Don't be.  That's just the way I am.  Perhaps I really am neurotic.  Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer: I am writing this blog not to please you. If you're in any way offended by my views and opinions about life, love, men, women, children, The Philippines, daijins and anything I write about, I am not sorry. I repeat, I am not sorry. These are my views and this is my blog and I have the right to post them as I like. I do not answer to you nor to anybody else. If anything is copied for distribution, please give attribution to me, the author, or I'll hunt you wherever you are to pluck your nose hairs or p#$$y hairs whichever is convenient. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngyehehe.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110487086530790506?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110487086530790506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110487086530790506&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110487086530790506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110487086530790506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/y-o-u.html' title='Y O U'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110478385095646089</id><published>2005-01-03T15:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-03T20:39:16.773-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2005 Goals</title><content type='html'>First things first... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#EE0000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMA!  &amp;nbsp; ^_^ &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love you.. mmuaaahhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; Two days has passed for 2005 and all I talked about are men.  Geez Amee! Get a life!  Okay, I won't be writing about any of my men (hahaha.. as if!) for the rest of the month.  Promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking of making resolutions for this year but I'll ditch that instead because I know I can't even pull off half of it.  So let's talk about my goals instead.  This way, I would be driven to accomplish something while having some sense of purpose.  This way too, I would be able to evaluate myself at the end of the year and see if I have achieved those goals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#7bc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goals for 2005&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.: have a month-long vacation to the Philippines or let Mama visit me here&lt;br /&gt;.: move to an apartment or buy a car&lt;br /&gt;.: lose weight (target: 112 lbs) and maintain it&lt;br /&gt;.: enroll in a class &lt;br /&gt;.: get my tattoo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty attainable, aight?  Let's see if I can work it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Have I announced that my brother is engaged!  Yohooo! &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#7bc;"&gt; My brother is engaged!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  I talked to his fiancee over  the phone for more than 3 hours and we were like long lost sisters.  Yey!  What can I say?  She's cool and I'm cool so we're good.  Hehe.  I'm so happy for them.  It was so funny to hear from her how my brother proposed. Hahaha.  Didn't know my brother is such a romantic.   Awwwww.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 90%;"&gt;a forwarded text message&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#7bc;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Certain people touch your heart and you can't stop thinking about them.  That's the kind of person you are, absent yet so near.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Awwwww. &lt;/i&gt;  Guess who sent me that. &lt;i&gt; *wink wink*&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;things are really getting creepy these days -- the super typhoons back home, the recent earthquake that resulted to the tsunami, the snowstorm in Southern California, the floods in LA, the heavy rains in Sanfo, the extreme cold here as early as December...  and these are just what i know of.  i know there are other things going on i haven't heard of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acts of nature that nobody can run away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;freaky eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;On a very sad note, my twin barkada's father died last January 1.  I know they were ready for this but it's still sad when I think about it.  My heart go to Phoebe and Haydee in this sad new year for them.  =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110478385095646089?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110478385095646089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110478385095646089&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110478385095646089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110478385095646089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/2005-goals.html' title='2005 Goals'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110471434148593716</id><published>2005-01-02T19:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-04T15:12:36.800-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The men in my life.</title><content type='html'>I was in my 5th grade in elemetary when I started seriously minding the opposite sex.  The guy, or rather the boy was a couple of years younger than me.  But boy he was cute.  Really!  Up to now, while even writing this piece, I still giggle when I remember those times.  His name was Brian.  He was my only crush till I graduated high school.  That is how loyal I can be.  I won't spill out the details of the freaky things I did just to get his attention.  Mind you, I really did something very very freaky and outrageous just to be near him.  Yikes!  Creepy high school Amee.  Hehe.  I outgrew my strong infatuation with him when I had my first boyfriend.  The last time I heard about him, he courted one of my high school best friends.  Hahaha.  I hope she dumped him for me.  Weheee!  Now I'm being high school.  Heh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the second man who wreaked havoc in my life was my first boyfriend - The Flame.  I'm giving him that nick as it seems that he can never put out the flame for me.  Naks!  Mahangin.  Haha.  Anyway, I met him summer of '91 at my Lola's hometown.  I can still vividly remember the scenario like I'm watching it in slowmo.  It was a Friday as I was concentratingly watching Beverly Hills 90210.  Everyone was out of the house attending my cousin Marj's candidacy for the purok rayna rayna money contest.  I was left at home as being a Jason Priestley fanatic, I won't leave until his show is over.  So they left me to my lonesome self.  Past 9pm, my childhood friend Elce came back to pick me up and watch the rayna rayna.  I don't know but I guess I'm that special back then.  Heh!  With nothing left to watch and do, I went with her for the show. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowmo... Me with my waist-long hair, eyes straight ahead (I'm suplada and I don't look around) walking with my friend passing through 2 handsome guys staring at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha.. Assuming.  Actually, that was how he described to me on how I got his attention.  Okay, I'm exaggerating of course.  Oh well, indulge me.  Anyway, that was the start on how The Flame saw me and looked for me and found me and wooed me. He officially became my boyfriend the 3rd of Nov 1992.  My first boyfriend.  My fourth.  My seventh.  See?  That shows how on-off our relationship went.  He just can't stop coming back to me.  And fool as I am, I keep on taking him back.  Hehe.  Stupid me eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third and fourth males were actually just flings - flings I had while my relationship with The Flame was hazy.  Lloyd, the third guy, became my boyfriend for only over a month.  It wasn't anything serious.  He was the first guy I actually allowed to take me to school.  Eeew!  That was embarrassing.  I am not good at the gf/bf thingy display at school.  That was the first and the last.  A month later, he found out he got his ex-gf pregnant and had to marry her.  Months after he got married, he actually asked me to go out with him again.  Geez!  The first up-front proof of how twisted a man's brain can be.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daboy is the second fling.  It lasted only a week.  We only had one date to record - watched a movie at Ayala the title I can't even remember.  It could have worked had I wanted it to work.  I haven't even acknowledged him as a boyfriend till now.  Hehe.  Poor guy.  I don't know but at those times, they were like games.  I guess because they were like band-aids - temporary cures for the marks The Flame has incurred.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Afterwhich, The Flame and I got back together.  There were some guys who tried to come in between but I just had no interest in them.  Even a dozen of long-stemmed super red roses or a mini disc could not sway me.  See how loyal I was to The Flame?  Hehe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I came here in Canada.  Had an affair for 2 days to Mr. Pristine.  What can I say for 2 days?  2 words.  Nothing much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Paramour is one guy who made a major impact in my life.  I won't elaborate much as only a chosen few knew about him.  Things happen for a reason and his coming to my life was perhaps for a greater reason.  The effects are astounding.  It changed my life big-time and I still don't know where this leads to.  He started the change and the dominoe effect hasn't finished yet.  Somehow I am starting to understand why he came to my life.  Still, his identity shall remain classified. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course The Father is there.  He is one proof that some few good ones still exist.  It is only with him that I felt secured.  Sad that I can't return the same emotions with as much passion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the boylet.  I'm not about to forget him.  His was a rollercoaster ride I enjoyed.  It kept my mind off The Flame and that I'm thankful for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the men who I somehow got involved with in some way or another.  In between them, of course I had other crushes to a lot of other guys, but they were the ones who made marks on what I have become today and on how I view life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm without any man.  Alone.  Waiting for DaWan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya think he'll come?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I won't settle for anything less. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110471434148593716?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110471434148593716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110471434148593716&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110471434148593716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110471434148593716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/men-in-my-life.html' title='The men in my life.'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110469591114773115</id><published>2005-01-02T14:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T19:35:39.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just babbling...</title><content type='html'>I've been sleeping very late lately (3am!) pinning my face on my computer doing graphics for my new blog layout.  There's just too many designs to choose from that I can't decide what to do.   Ahhhhhh!  I want something funky yet formal yet plain and simple.  Could I mix that?  Duh?!?  I don't know.  For now, I'm sticking with this blogger layout until I can make one that I really really love and will stick to for years.   Uhmm, that sounds like my other mantra - to stick to celibacy until DaWan (that I really really love) comes around.  Heh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I said I would have my last laugh and I did and that was enough.  Knowing he's actually sorry for what he had done is enough for me.  I have thought of revenge before but that's just not me anymore.  He is forgiven.  In fact, anyone who has erred me in any way  is already forgiven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Older and wiser and at peace - that I can say of myself.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great way to start the year!   ^_^ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;***&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I have 3 days of work left and then I'm done with this job.  Yet I haven't even signed any paper to formalize my new job.  Oooohhh. This is scary.  Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110469591114773115?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110469591114773115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110469591114773115&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110469591114773115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110469591114773115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/just-babbling.html' title='just babbling...'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110463509738638892</id><published>2005-01-01T21:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T22:08:19.190-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the flame that never goes off</title><content type='html'>i have always believed in my instinct because most of the times i have always been right with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a few weeks ago, i received an email in my rocketmail account from some unknown sender.  an unknown email address but the subject gave away information about the sender.  right from the subject, i already had an idea from whom it came from.  oh wait.. it wasn't only my idea or my instinct, i knew it.  i knew who it came from and i was even sure of it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i didn't mind the email.  it was just a forwarded message anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just awhile ago, i checked my yahoo account.  it has been ages since i have checked it as i got tired trying what my password is.  i just really wanted to open it today as a friend told me she sent me an email into that account.  so i tried and actually got through the first password try.  *rolling eyes*  i only have 4 different passwords to try so i don't know what the heck happened the last time i tried those passwords.  computers are really freaky sometimes.  anyway, so i got in my inbox and guess what? i got another email from the same email address with the same subject.  i thought i would find another forwarded email.  to my surprise, he actually made himself known.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the balls of the guy!  wow!  it didn't take long for him to come back.  i thought at least he'd wait a year.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so what do i do now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;plans...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i knew it! i knew the last laugh would be mine. &lt;i&gt;*evil grin*&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110463509738638892?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110463509738638892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110463509738638892&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110463509738638892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110463509738638892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2005/01/flame-that-never-goes-off.html' title='the flame that never goes off'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101569.post-110424484389849991</id><published>2004-12-28T13:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2004-12-28T12:10:18.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2004: The year that was.</title><content type='html'>The year started bleak but it ended with a bang.  At least for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;January&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp; After losing my baby, I spent the next months contemplating whether I wanted to continue my relationship with the father.  And as the months went on, it was clear in my mind that I didn't want to go through with it.  I wanted to move on and move on without him.   I spent the whole month planning on how to break the news to him.  I wanted to do it right and as painless as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;February&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp; No matter how hard you try not to hurt people, you will always end up hurting them especially if they love and care for you.   I told the father my news through a text message.  I know.  I was a big coward.  I could have done it over the phone but I didn't want to hear how painful things would be.  It was hard enough through text.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;March, April and May&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;   Moving on, it was easy with an old flame coming back.  Enrolled in a gym class to lose the weight I packed while pregnant.   Went on with my life as normal as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;June&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;   I went back to my old flame.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;July&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;   Things gone crazy with the old flame.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;August&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;   Broke up with the old flame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;September&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;   Bitter.  Cold.  Mourning another loss.  Feeling so stupid.  A walking and drunk hypocrite.  Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;October&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;   Celebrated the first death anniversary of Ashley.  Not bitter anymore.  Found new friends.  Found a boylet by assumption.  Blissful month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;November&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;   Boylet gone sour and fading to oblivion.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;December&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;   Clinically healthy.  Cleared for pregnancy.  (Hehe..)  Found a new job.  Hurrayyy!  Nothing beats these gifts.  =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited of the coming year.  With the good vibes starting to come in, I believe it's going to be a great year for me.  As the cliche goes, &lt;i&gt;"When it rains, it pours."&lt;/i&gt;  Since I came here in Canada, I got nothing but headaches and heartaches.  The road was so bumpy that I have always thought of turning back.  It's only now that I got to see some smoothness that I'm hoping it goes on and on.   I believe it will stay.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can grasp the water now.  Blessings have started to come in and it will only get better.  It will pour, right?  ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;b&gt;HAVE A BLESSED NEW YEAR EVERYONE!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic; font-size:90%"&gt;I started writing this when it wasn't so busy at the office yet... and then it suddenly got so busy I ended up with the phrase-sentences. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101569-110424484389849991?l=bardot.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/feeds/110424484389849991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101569&amp;postID=110424484389849991&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110424484389849991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101569/posts/default/110424484389849991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bardot.blogspot.com/2004/12/2004-year-that-was.html' title='2004: The year that was.'/><author><name>b a r d o t</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05973618523620750194</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mj4BbMYRwE0/SvZbeXdCYEI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hW5XhNXasTc/S220/amee-small.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
