<?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-8187965</id><updated>2011-11-27T19:50:45.174-05:00</updated><category term='Hong Kong'/><category term='strength'/><category term='The Holiday'/><category term='Julian'/><category term='japan'/><category term='The Kite Runner'/><category term='grief'/><category term='dating'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='Jae'/><category term='Home'/><category term='Vacation'/><category term='love'/><category term='Leung'/><category term='rant'/><category term='novels'/><category term='maturity'/><category term='apologies'/><category term='time'/><category term='life'/><category term='friends'/><category term='appreciation'/><title type='text'>epiphany</title><subtitle type='html'>–noun [i-pif-uh-nee] a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>346</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4608206174707359893</id><published>2011-05-23T23:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T23:56:46.095-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Observe</title><content type='html'>Actions speak louder than words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While some have said something that may not have been most positive, their subsequent actions changed my life for the better and enabled me to fulfill my dreams, due to their unfailing understanding and mercy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others, who have claimed certain things in front of myself and their respective significant others, finally show their true colours in the way they act when they think that no one's watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad when you talk too much and grow too absorbed into exerting negative energy, you fail to realize that people are in fact watching and are making a conscious effort to tolerate your ridiculous obnoxious ways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4608206174707359893?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4608206174707359893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4608206174707359893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2011/05/observe.html' title='Observe'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4475974094490863437</id><published>2011-04-23T21:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T21:48:38.524-04:00</updated><title type='text'>50/50</title><content type='html'>I had a discussion with someone about friendships/relationships a few months back ... and I know it may be unhealthy to be technical about how much you put into a certain relationship (any, really ... romantic, family, friendship etc.), but yet as you grow older, it becomes more apparent if it's 50/50 or 70/30. Obviously, the best ones that work the most are the ones that go 50/50.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a bit of a tug and pull if you notice that you're putting in way more effort than the other, and this is beyond personal perception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If someone is nice and respectful to me, I will most definitely do the same. If someone is a little less than that, no more than a hi ... then no more than a hi our relationship will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I don't have enough minutes in a day to invest in a relationship just because I wanna give people the benefit of the doubt that they are good people within.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As cynical this post may be, it's unfortunately a huge reality of life that we all have to cope with and eventually shrug off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4475974094490863437?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4475974094490863437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4475974094490863437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2011/04/5050.html' title='50/50'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4124074792384869746</id><published>2011-02-25T03:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T04:00:01.652-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tornado</title><content type='html'>I haven't kept up with blogging for a few reasons:&lt;br /&gt;1. I can hardly find the time to even make a delicious meal&lt;br /&gt;2. I didn't want to document the fluctuations of my thoughts and emotions so I wouldn't have records of any negativity&lt;br /&gt;3. Well, life hasn't really been all that eventful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I am making the effort to resume this peculiar habit (inspired by a recent character that I have a love-hate relationship for from a very acclaimed drama). Additionally, I've found myself within a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that I really need to release.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First order of business: Graduating. I am for the most part sure it's happening. It's just that I'm cutting it so close that I can't afford any big screw ups. I also pretty much have the next five years planned ahead of me and I don't want any delays. Yes, life isn't set in stone and sometimes spontaneity is nice but a girl can have her goals, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the short-term, as in the next year or so, I've been posed with a few different options and I don't know where to go or what to do. I need a job to get through life 'cause I want my parents to retire. But more schooling seems to be a smarter choice 'cause I've seriously learned pretty much nothing of practical use in my university career. However, I don't want to be without income during eight more months of school - it's pretty scary to see my bank account deplete continuously. So pretty much, bottom line: I absolutely have no idea what I want. I just need one big obvious nudge like "Hey, you've got a job at [this amazing company]!" or "I'll give you a three-month internship again - go back to school and learn something useful!" Bah, I wish life worked that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've gotten pretty frustrated with him lately. I love him and I know that he's the one I am gonna spend the rest of my life with but there are certain things that are a part of me that I can't change to match his lifestyle. I'm not budging on this one. I know not everyone grows up with the same family dynamics but I love my family. I love seeing them. Not every day mind you, but enough to get my dose of lovin'. And yes, I understand it takes a whole lot of someone to be at someone else's family gatherings 'cause you can't really fathom nor grasp the level of love needed to enjoy the company of someone else's family as much as you do your own. But when I go to my family gatherings, I want/need him to be there. He's been pretty good so far, but I hope someday it doesn't become a chore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never deal with grief very well. I fully know that my life will never be the most miserable when put into perspective but when hard news of extreme sickness or death comes knocking on my door coupled with my weak tear ducts, I really can't stop wondering how he/she will surpass this strange part of life, or how I'd live seeing my loved ones suffer. I cried for a very long time when my little brother was diagnosed with leukemia and when he was going through the most grueling moments of chemotherapy. I cried when I saw my mom in pain as she was dealing with endometriosis. I cried at work (and my boss saw -_-) when I got a call that my dad had to go to emergency 'cause there was something wrong with his gall bladder and needed surgery immediately. My great-grandmother is alive and well, but when I went to visit her this past summer, seeing her frail body, and seeing that she spends most of her days alone, I cried for I wish she wasn't alone 'cause at 96 years old, you're pretty much waiting for the end. My heart cried for a very long time these past 48 hours after finding out that my aunt who recently already had surgery for endometriosis, has been hit with even bigger news: Stage IV sarcoma in the rectum. The latter part of the diagnosis is scary nonetheless, but Stage IV usually means it's incurable, with a five-year survival rate of 10-15%. My heart breaks for her and I can't stop crying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4124074792384869746?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4124074792384869746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4124074792384869746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2011/02/tornado.html' title='Tornado'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8082882465952179529</id><published>2011-01-04T18:47:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T01:35:11.276-05:00</updated><title type='text'>VISUALS OF 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1374.snc4/164651_1425966543613_1666260043_953453_4263229_n.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/TSOuJXQBMrI/AAAAAAAAAUo/kyUTWXJW550/s1600/tremblant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/TSOuJXQBMrI/AAAAAAAAAUo/kyUTWXJW550/s400/tremblant.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8082882465952179529?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8082882465952179529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8082882465952179529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2011/01/visuals-of-2010.html' title='VISUALS OF 2010'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/TSOs1vwgUdI/AAAAAAAAATo/lW67MHvEtcU/s72-c/IMG_4801.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2489252026092879690</id><published>2010-12-26T03:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-26T03:14:50.082-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Got everything I need...</title><content type='html'>I really only had four things on my wish list this Christmas...&lt;br /&gt;Each of which was slowly given to me, and I not only got what I wished for... I got much, much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am overwhelmed with the love and joy that my family, friends, and the love of my life give me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I may sometimes look at another person's life and wish I had their luxuries, I can ask no more of God and finally appreciate the blessings He's bestowed upon me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NTS: Be thankful and loving every single day ... and don't complain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-2489252026092879690?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2489252026092879690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2489252026092879690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/12/got-everything-i-need.html' title='Got everything I need...'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-1124341998344842466</id><published>2010-12-17T00:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-17T00:17:27.234-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today is another one of those days ... where I wish I tried &lt;i&gt;a lot&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;harder in school, made &lt;i&gt;higher &lt;/i&gt;goals to reach, and wish I realized all of this &lt;i&gt;three years earlier ...&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-1124341998344842466?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1124341998344842466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1124341998344842466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/12/today-is-another-one-of-those-days.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2372134550874850756</id><published>2010-08-29T14:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T14:50:53.934-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Age is just a number...</title><content type='html'>I don't think I've felt "old" ... in a really long time, if ever.&lt;div&gt;Reason being, I'm usually the baby of the usual group of people I hang out with since I'm the only one still in university, with everyone else engaged, married, and with careers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hung out with some great HK friends that are unfortunately not in the same stage of life that I am, but I still love them all the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The paradox of growing older is that... when we're young, we want to be a little older to have the liberty and opportunities to do things that we can't when we're not of age but as soon as we reach that age, we suddenly look back on our blissful youth and then wonder why we wanted to grow up so fast...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I always have to remind myself that being young is a great thing - that we can always grow older, but never younger. At the very same time, there is a very beautiful thing about getting older and hopefully all the wiser... We're (hopefully) achieving very lifechanging milestones that can't happen if time was stationary...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-2372134550874850756?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2372134550874850756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2372134550874850756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/08/age-is-just-number.html' title='Age is just a number...'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2656357734103645597</id><published>2010-08-22T08:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T09:01:45.300-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Branding</title><content type='html'>Despite my final mark saying otherwise, I did learn a lot out of my marketing textbook (not from my prof). Anyways..&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being in HK, I'm surrounded by many more retail stores, and many more luxury brands in every district leading to much temptation for large and numerous purchases. Prior to my arrival I was determined to buy one luxury branded bag... As I continue to shop and as I continue to contemplate whether my expenditure would be worth it, I slowly drift away from my original plan to buy one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are we all puppets? In all honesty, just 'cause a Valentino brand and a $$$$$ price tag is slapped on something, doesn't make it beautiful nor practical. Some people buy for the brand, others for the supposed quality. A person decked out in complete Burberry plaid doesn't look respectable, they just end up looking like a clown. Louboutins aren't actually all that comfortable to wear but somehow people would pay hundreds of dollars for those red soles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I still like my brands ... I just don't know if a few thousand dollar price tag on something is worth it :S...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Someone tell me otherwise! I have such a dilemma shopping in HK!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is buying a large purchase an investment? Classic Chanel purses are getting more and more rare and they've increased the prices. You could perhaps resell your purse at a higher cost than what you originally paid for it... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really did want to walk away with a monogrammed bag, but now I'm leaning towards bags that show no devotion to any particular brand, and as such no particular suggested retail price.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-2656357734103645597?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2656357734103645597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2656357734103645597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/08/branding.html' title='Branding'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-868402691738457478</id><published>2010-08-19T06:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T06:04:48.919-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Old friends</title><content type='html'>Caught up with an old friend today and felt like I was 13 years old all over again.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I ended my attempt to make new friends and instead started to rekindle old friendships about a year ago. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's brought me much more joy in an era where paths are known to immensely diverge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://thorstenconsulting.com/serendipity/uploads/fork-in-the-road.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-868402691738457478?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/868402691738457478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/868402691738457478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/08/old-friends.html' title='Old friends'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-3917616690298377464</id><published>2010-08-16T01:21:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T01:32:12.388-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='japan'/><title type='text'>Japan</title><content type='html'>Hokkaido, Sapporo, and whatever else. I had no idea where I was nor do I know the geographic layout of Japan so forgive me if what I describe is entirely incorrect.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, wherever I went ... I hear is nothing like Tokyo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything, however weird, is not as weird as Tokyo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;People, for the most part way more hospitable than Chinese people will ever be, except they can't speak English.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fish everyday, cooked or raw, is disgusting. My tummy flips over and over again at the smell of any kind of fish or crab. I don't know if I'll ever recover.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Public washrooms will infinitely be better than any other place in the world, I presume. It's cleaner, more high-tech, and everything better. There are seat warmers, toilet cleaners, and bidets in every stall.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back in HK now. I suppose I'll shop for the next 16 days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-3917616690298377464?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3917616690298377464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3917616690298377464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/08/japan.html' title='Japan'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2209857087103790034</id><published>2010-08-09T00:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T03:58:24.307-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hong Kong'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='appreciation'/><title type='text'>Three Years Later</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;These first few days spent in Hong Kong was very revealing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not much has changed - streets are still bustling with red taxis, loud Chinese people, and hot musky air.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Except for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I came back to spend time with family despite the misconception that I might escape a few random nights out with friends. Even so, in a strange yet familiar city, I've found more time than I have in the past few days than the past few years to appreciate excessive hours spent with my family. I've found that the friendships I reminisced about the past few years are probably better left un-rekindled, so I remember them as they were.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Though a large majority of things seem better here - transportation, food, architecture, design, etc., nothing beats home. Home, while much of the time I want to get away from all the stressful and mundane situations, allows a comfortable silence and simplicity that I'm glad I only have to be away from for only 31 more days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-- Nelson Mandela&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-2209857087103790034?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2209857087103790034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2209857087103790034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/08/three-years-later.html' title='Three Years Later'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8257188690295185953</id><published>2010-07-22T23:58:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T00:11:54.244-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Leung'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Julian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jae'/><title type='text'>We're all Dancers...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Life won't always seem fair and futures seem so far away, so bleak.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But if we hold on just a moment longer, we'll get past that little speed bump that seem to be holding us back from where we wanna be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know you had big dreams Julian. Everyone stood behind you even if you didn't know it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We all watched you get there little by little and you were no less of an inspiration and someone to look up to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't tell you now how much I wish I was there for you. I could've pleaded for you and Jae to stay on this earth to see the great things the world had to offer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please be well, wherever you are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The world is missing two beautiful angels.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Random Pics from 06-07&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-ash1/v42/86/79/1666260015/n1666260015_442_1342.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: ;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-ash1/v42/86/79/1666260015/n1666260015_442_1342.jpg" border="0" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v63/86/79/1666260015/n1666260015_24371_5203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: ;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v63/86/79/1666260015/n1666260015_24371_5203.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs176.snc4/38124_1292374523896_1666260015_706568_4380167_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: ;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs176.snc4/38124_1292374523896_1666260015_706568_4380167_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8257188690295185953?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8257188690295185953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8257188690295185953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/07/were-all-dancers.html' title='We&apos;re all Dancers...'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8166237455806052412</id><published>2010-06-16T09:53:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T10:12:04.822-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rant'/><title type='text'>Bandwagon Vendetta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="http://thejackenhacks.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/bandwagon-2.jpg" src="http://thejackenhacks.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/bandwagon-2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://thejackenhacks.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/bandwagon-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Photo Source&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Bandwagons' usually become more apparent in times of intense competition when your circle of friends or the circle of friends beyond that becomes segregated into which team they're supporting whether it be in the NBA, NHL, or even now, the World Cup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People often express dislike for those supposed 'bandwagoners'. However, the people who exceed the level of annoyingness of 'bandwagoners' are those who feel the need to prove to the world that they're the truest fans of whichever sport, whichever team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one cares? No one cares that you've watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;almost&lt;/span&gt; every single game. Good for you, you have no life. Tell the world how watching that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;almost&lt;/span&gt; every single game has taught you anything about life and helped you be productive in life... and I'm pretty sure that's not the case .... unless you're planning to work for that organization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty sure your watching &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;almost&lt;/span&gt; every single game doesn't have any effect on how successful your team will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, just because people don't broadcast their love for whichever sport, whichever team over the entire season, it doesn't define their level of support. And just because you obnoxiously post a lot of stuff online, doesn't make you a 'true fan' either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If people are going to be watching a game, habitually or not, they are inevitably going to feel a sudden liking towards one or the other, maybe both. That's not called jumping aboard the bandwagon, that's called a natural human tendency to identify with something or the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;/end rant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8166237455806052412?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8166237455806052412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8166237455806052412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/06/bandwagon-vendetta.html' title='Bandwagon Vendetta'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-3431381462616514123</id><published>2010-06-14T21:44:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T21:59:35.771-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Life Update</title><content type='html'>Haven't written about random things in a while so here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I moved out to go live in my university town, my room has gotten significantly messier. I distinctly remember leaving it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; neat and tidy. The mess has been a combination of numerous people using my room as a guest room and me moving back in during my breaks and somehow, I never have closet space and must resort to living out of my suitcase for the duration of my stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My university career's almost coming to an end and as scary as it sounds to finally be done school, I really can't wait to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;finally be done school&lt;/span&gt;. These past three years, I've gone through numerous changes - academically and mentally. I went to Western with a plan and throughout my time there, I found myself continually changing that plan. Now that school's almost done, I have pretty definite idea of where I want to be within the next three years and God-willing and grades-willing, I hope that I won't have to change that plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize I haven't been as present as I should be in many of the friendships I've retained and recently rekindled - namely that I hardly have any time beyond my work-school-study-boyfriend-family-sleep-eat schedule. I truly feel very apologetic to my friends and nostalgic of my former socialite days. I made the effort to go out this past Friday to see at least 30 people; these people who I have fond memories of and still bring a smile to my face. However, as much as I love and miss them, and as much as they are the same loving people to me, I feel like I have changed a lot. No longer am I hyper and as happy-go-lucky-I-don't-have-a-care-in-the-world as I was, but I am more reserved. Reserved in such a way that I just observe. I observe how I used to be so carefree. I guess we all grow up eventually, some earlier than others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-3431381462616514123?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3431381462616514123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3431381462616514123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/06/life-update.html' title='Life Update'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8724791810692138768</id><published>2010-06-14T21:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T21:41:07.155-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>I'm losing count</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/TBbZ1uoLXUI/AAAAAAAAASY/DbtYlgmocUc/s1600/27.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/TBbZ1uoLXUI/AAAAAAAAASY/DbtYlgmocUc/s400/27.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482809113442999618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy however many years-months-days-seconds it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27, by the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8724791810692138768?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8724791810692138768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8724791810692138768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/06/im-losing-count.html' title='I&apos;m losing count'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/TBbZ1uoLXUI/AAAAAAAAASY/DbtYlgmocUc/s72-c/27.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2119246414071806112</id><published>2010-05-27T11:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T11:20:03.541-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>When people ask me if I'm religious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;I say no. I hate that term - religious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If people ask me if I'm a Christian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;I answer yes, moderately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe in creationism then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;No I'm not a fundamentalist Christian that believes creation &gt; evolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then perhaps, theistic evolution?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Yah, maybe so. Works for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/8187965-2119246414071806112?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2119246414071806112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2119246414071806112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/05/when-people-ask-me-if-im-religious-i.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2803086854594908303</id><published>2010-03-04T10:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T10:30:24.342-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a Slave</title><content type='html'>Maybe I don't always volunteer for all the right reasons ... In fact, I volunteer a lot of the time because I think it'll benefit me in some way in the near future or further down the road. Not getting compensated monetarily kinda sucks especially when I have retarded spending habits. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, here goes ... my free labour in hopes of getting my foot in the door so my future doesn't look hopeless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-2803086854594908303?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2803086854594908303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2803086854594908303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-slave.html' title='I&apos;m a Slave'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2547623866957001524</id><published>2010-02-16T02:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T02:32:07.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Years Later</title><content type='html'>Many of us go through life, searching for that person that complements us. It's that person that we can share our life with. I found mine. But there are times that I &lt;i&gt;do &lt;/i&gt;miss being independent. HOWEVER, life &lt;i&gt;with&lt;/i&gt; him is so much better than life &lt;i&gt;without&lt;/i&gt; him.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I gave him one of my yet-again picture and words-infested card for Valentine's / 2 years after meeting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He said I was poetic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told him I wished I was.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The roses are blooming right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am going to dry them when I wake up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-2547623866957001524?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2547623866957001524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2547623866957001524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2010/02/two-years-later.html' title='Two Years Later'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-6269716640010403063</id><published>2009-12-09T16:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T16:59:31.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Way</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a beautiful feeling. I'm not psycho, nor am I crazy, but after the longest hiatus we took from seeing each other being reunited again filled me with the most overwhelming and euphoric feeling.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The way he looked into my eyes - I knew - and I know - that he is irreplaceable. And for that, I am very thankful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-6269716640010403063?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6269716640010403063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6269716640010403063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/12/way.html' title='The Way'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8921391888024592507</id><published>2009-11-24T19:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T19:40:58.091-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay Strong</title><content type='html'>Stay strong, Kwan family and Billie ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss you forever auntie - thank you for always taking care of me whenever I would come visit and always laughing with me, treating me like I was your own. I regret not visiting as much, I regret it so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We never intend for these things to happen and often times we're never prepared for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8921391888024592507?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8921391888024592507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8921391888024592507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/11/stay-strong.html' title='Stay Strong'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-6277058461705939401</id><published>2009-11-16T14:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T14:43:34.080-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twenty</title><content type='html'>A significant number in its own right - a number that stands in between being simply a teenager and an expectation to grow up to compare to those who are already there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twenty is a number that is the end of a new group of numbers and verges into a new decade, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched Peter Pan and wish I would never have to grow up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twenty is significant in another way, in many ways and may be worth celebrating for making it thus far. It anticipates further growth as a person and maybe to an extent, expects longevity, expects no end in that growth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-6277058461705939401?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6277058461705939401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6277058461705939401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/11/twenty.html' title='Twenty'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-3867544212795575855</id><published>2009-11-06T12:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T13:06:54.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Life Would be Like...</title><content type='html'>As I was sitting on the bus yesterday, half dozing off, half not, all these glimpses of peoples faces that I encountered over the past many years came back. These were people that I very much remember for their distinct personalities and the very heartwarming conversations we had for a short little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people think I'm weird for talking to strangers but when you really do take the time to talk to some, your life changes forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coincidentally, most of these experiences were with elderly people... with the occasional young'ns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I remember during my trip to China in 2007, there was this retired couple who then, and I suppose, currently are traveling the world. I remember getting along so well with them, so much so that after my trip was over, they gave me their number to stay in contact with them, maybe go for "yum cha" before I would return to Canada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't call them. There are many days where I wonder what if I called them and had that brunch date... would we still be friends? I wonder how they're doing now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) My most memorable experience was during my trip to Luoyang. I met the most amazing kids - orphans - and yet their situation never brought them down. It was the most humbling experience and it became more than a volunteer-orphan relationship. We became friends ... I promised I'd write them and I'd keep in touch with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't done so. It's been two and a half years and everyday I wonder where they are now, some are already grown up (the adults have to leave the orphange). I wonder if they had followed their dreams that they shared with me years ago. I wonder if I still write to them now if they would still remember me, would they forgive me for neglecting them for so long?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) I met this lady on the subway TTC. It was a very short and sweet conversation and very much reminded me of what a loving grandmother would be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her compliments and her smile made my day and I wish I could return the favour each and every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I took the Via Rail one time and it had stalled for an extra two hours due to some complications on the track. An elderly couple who sat behind me had no idea what to do and needed to call home. I simply just lent them my phone so that they could assure their relatives that they were okay. I thought nothing of it as I would expect any other person to do the same. For some reason, they were so grateful that they wanted me to call them. They gave me their business card and wished for me to call them the next day so they could thank me again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They called my cell phone (it was saved on their relatives' call id), but I never picked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish I did pick up. Maybe we would be friends. Maybe they'd teach me things about life I would never learn. Maybe I'd keep them young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) This girl that sat beside me on the Greyhound and I randomly started talking. Talking so much that we pretty much annoyed everyone on the bus, including the bus driver. We talked like we had known each other for years and knew the ins and outs of our situations and stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And again, I wonder what it would be life if we had kept in touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;I always hate saying good-bye. I always stuck to the fact that once you're in my life, there is no way out. It's not that I am dissatisfied with having the few good people I do have in my life; I just maybe, grow attached to people so easily that their impact on me never seems to subside...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-3867544212795575855?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3867544212795575855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3867544212795575855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-life-would-be-like.html' title='What Life Would be Like...'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8138265601165470429</id><published>2009-10-19T17:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T17:22:49.907-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PROCEED</title><content type='html'>Check out my blog &lt;a href="http://wisewordsoflove.blogspot.com"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for the time being. I'm doing this for a course at school. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8138265601165470429?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8138265601165470429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8138265601165470429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/10/proceed.html' title='PROCEED'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8001574084702848236</id><published>2009-08-17T20:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T20:31:17.615-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Does patience equal tolerance?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8001574084702848236?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8001574084702848236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8001574084702848236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/08/does-patience-equal-tolerance.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-6394924579892559217</id><published>2009-08-17T16:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T16:49:03.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There is something about that smile that calms me down and makes me feel like the world's gonna be alright.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-6394924579892559217?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6394924579892559217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6394924579892559217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/08/there-is-something-about-that-smile.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4289124183316075634</id><published>2009-08-07T16:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T16:23:15.590-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing up sucks</title><content type='html'>As I sit in my cubicle 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, I've been given a lot more thinking time. However what I think about isn't always positive...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to think of who/how/what I used to be and I know I'm not  that person anymore and I very much wish I still was that person. I know I've still got it in me but yet it's like I've suddenly become aware of my surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like when Adam and Eve took a bite of the fruit and their eyes suddenly opened, not for the better. Before that bite into the fruit, they were happy, innocent, carefree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wish I was like that again ... I used to consider myself as one of those happy-go-lucky types of people. I was loud and bouncing everywhere,  possibly shameless,  but I didn't care. That was me and I was happy... I did what made me happy. I thrived off of getting involved in anything and everything. I never wanted to stay in or sit down. Although I placed extra-curriculars above my academics, I still managed to keep a healthy balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at myself now and I am the complete opposite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with that said, something needs to change... Not so much a reversion back to my old self but an embrace of who I used to be and who I want to become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've reflected back on what I used to do in high school and am determined to follow through with something similar in hopes of getting back this happy-go-lucky part of me to be a whole of me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4289124183316075634?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4289124183316075634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4289124183316075634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/08/growing-up-sucks.html' title='Growing up sucks'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-7186708124776685652</id><published>2009-08-04T15:42:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T20:04:53.189-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>No Games - Serani</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;So even if the titled post's lyrics does not accurately reflect our relationship, when we had a quiet discussion about it, about how there were "no games" between us ... the song plays in our head and then we start jammin'... dam you catchy songs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;But that's besides the point.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;All too often we hear our girlfriends or our male friends or even ourselves playing in the dating game. Could be fun, could be tragic - whatever the outcome, we've all been participants or are currently still playing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;During the fun no-strings-attached moments, we find ourselves exhilarated by the things we don't know and the things we may eventually discover. These supposedly fun times are appealing at the moment but don't always resolve in happy endings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Which brings us to the second half of the story, the tragedy. I myself have been there, done that. My naive self only less than a couple years ago brought me there and only then did I finally wake up and realize that's not where I wanted to be. I realized that not all games were meant to be played nor were they ever worth my time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;What makes you think that if a guy/girl plays mind games with you &lt;em&gt;pre&lt;/em&gt;-relationship will stop playing those games &lt;em&gt;during&lt;/em&gt; a relationship? The answer is that more often than not, they don't. More often than not, one person is going to be more insecure than the other and that insecurity usually results in playing the I-can't-be-more-vulnerable-than-the-other game ... and then it's a cat-and-mouse chase.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My advice is this, if you're looking for someone that you could call your boo, there shouldn't be any games. If there are, sirens should go off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I only bring this up because a girlfriend recently asked me how my relationship began. Although no two relationships can be the same, I only give personal advice and it's at your discretion whether or not to take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Although in the past I was a poor victim of the dating game, I've realized it was because I was trying to be somebody I was not... I kept putting on a front, afraid of judgment and criticism. When &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt; came along, I don't know how I did it but when I reflect back, I only remember being myself, being natural - no games, and maybe that's what's working.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Be yourself, I'm sure you're an amazing person and you'll have at least one worthy admirer, if not more. If they don't like, they don't like... their loss. Plenty of very yummy fish in the sea~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And when you take that chance to stop playing that game all too familiar to us, maybe that person who found you as you were, embraced your beauty and flaws alike, could very well be the person you grow old with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366204021387857314" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 250px; height: 304px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SniWIEcYjaI/AAAAAAAAAI0/FE56wAQb0-g/s320/1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-7186708124776685652?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7186708124776685652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7186708124776685652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/08/no-games-serani.html' title='No Games - Serani'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SniWIEcYjaI/AAAAAAAAAI0/FE56wAQb0-g/s72-c/1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4524362458316072057</id><published>2009-07-26T19:46:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T19:59:14.617-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Man's Best Friend</title><content type='html'>Before I embark on a study marathon for the next 3 days, I have to write out everything I'm feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a very high level of regret that I am feeling right now. I regret that I didn't spend enough time with Leonard when he was there by my feet each time he saw me. He followed me everywhere, always begged for tummy rubs. I'd only pay attention to him on my own time. Each time he did his trademark paw thing, he win my heart all over again. He knew that that was the key to my heart. ... and yet I was so selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw him two nights before his death and I only merely glanced at him, never thinking that he would be gone from my life so soon. I remember thinking after that night why I never paid more attention to him. It was during dinner, that the news of his disappearance came to me and I was never the same again. I knew that if we found him right now after in one piece, I would love him all up. That decision came too late though. The worst of my fears happened, I was in denial, I was in shock and I didn't know what else to feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was first time I saw &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt; cry. We cried for hours, not knowing what to do, feelings of guilt, regret, sadness. There's this Leonard shaped hole in my life ... and I don't know what to do with it. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He&lt;/span&gt; asked me why humans were so weird, why we get so attached to these dogs. I answered him with all of Leonard's best attributes. We got attached because he was always the first one to meet us at the door, he'd always try to make us happy, he'd never get mad at us if we pushed him away or yell at him but instead try to make things better....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the first time I experienced a death very, very close to me. I asked myself constantly whether I'd ever get over it and I don't think I will. I'm thinking about him every single moment of my days, so much that everything reminds me of him. The stairs, the way he'd run up and down the stairs. The couch, the place he always slept. The empty space, the space he always peed and pooed on. The bones we bought for him. The bed, the way he'd run around and try to jump up on the bed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was going to celebrate his first birthday next month and I guess we'll be celebrating it for him, without him... He had so much innocence in him, we wanted to bring him out to so many places and now we can't...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wherever dogs go, heaven, doggie heaven, Leonard I hope you're well... you're running around having the time of your life. I think about you everyday, I miss you everyday and I love you. See you soon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SmztYPgHspI/AAAAAAAAAIc/WfPjnqgBKMI/s1600-h/leonard1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SmztYPgHspI/AAAAAAAAAIc/WfPjnqgBKMI/s320/leonard1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362922257025315474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Rest in Peace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;leonard (tat)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;August 2008 - July 2009&lt;/span&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/8187965-4524362458316072057?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4524362458316072057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4524362458316072057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/07/mans-best-friend.html' title='Man&apos;s Best Friend'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SmztYPgHspI/AAAAAAAAAIc/WfPjnqgBKMI/s72-c/leonard1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-3845178522841368063</id><published>2009-07-21T00:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T00:49:13.620-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I took the hit again. I didn't wanna face World War III alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-3845178522841368063?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3845178522841368063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3845178522841368063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-took-hit-again.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4612420108215513608</id><published>2009-07-15T12:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T12:30:03.619-04:00</updated><title type='text'>POV</title><content type='html'>I should know,  but I will ask again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though at some point early in my life, I may have been indoctrinated, sheltered, and only taught one way of life, but now my eyes have opened up...  I still want to believe that everything is true,  even without mere concrete evidence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you able,  will you able, to see where I'm coming from? If so, then we have a deal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4612420108215513608?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4612420108215513608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4612420108215513608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/07/pov.html' title='POV'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-3132070405364992571</id><published>2009-07-15T01:12:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T01:22:34.195-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Goals and Ambitions</title><content type='html'>There's a lot I wanna do, there's a lot I wanna see but yet I feel ever so constrained with time. Am I? Am I really restricted by time or can I run free, do whatever I please? Do I see myself settling down? Eventually, yes. How much time will I allott myself to do what I've seen myself doing my entire life? Would it make sense to just stay put now, try to make enough money and then go? Or would it make sense to just live with it, deal with it and go now before it's too late?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answers to my very own questions, I won't know now. But eventually I will, with time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://blogs.mie.utoronto.ca/roller/moradian/resource/Time.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 388px; height: 309px;" src="http://blogs.mie.utoronto.ca/roller/moradian/resource/Time.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Time, determines everything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-family: times new roman; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Oh and happy 16 &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-3132070405364992571?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3132070405364992571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3132070405364992571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/07/goals-and-ambitions.html' title='Goals and Ambitions'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-5735582172257047645</id><published>2009-07-13T21:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T21:18:33.188-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Compassion</title><content type='html'>Jesus was the ultimate example and many others followed suit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up knowing compassion and wanting to show it to those who needed it, those who deserved it. I've slowly shyed away from doing so, for whatever reason I don't know. Maybe I need that extra push.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me wonder sometimes why people as fortunate as us, don't show more of it? Why aren't we a little more merciful, a little more generous and a little more humbled? Of course, there are those who take advantage of those who are compassionate and then in turn deter us from ever being empathetic ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We could give a lot more, be there a lot more, do a lot more, but we don't because 1. we're selfish and 2. we're scared of being taken advantage of ... so 3. we're just really selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the world we live in today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-5735582172257047645?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5735582172257047645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5735582172257047645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/07/compassion.html' title='Compassion'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-7599907614818893708</id><published>2009-07-07T15:55:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T16:08:43.591-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Kite Runner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='novels'/><title type='text'>The Kite Runner</title><content type='html'>I just finished this beautifully written novel, by my count, the ninth one I've read this summer. Before I embark on reviewing this novel, I have to say that there is nothing like being immersed in a book. Film adaptations are never up to par with the way novels can draw you into another world and make you feel like you are actually the protagonist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You feel every emotion, you know/imagine every thought (depending on the perspective of which it was written), and you are suddenly in another world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discover books by recommendation and word of mouth and it makes me wonder why I've never heard of this novel until this year when it was published four years ago and an Oscar-nominated film was adapted two years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But anyway, watch the film and then read the book... or vice versa... for those who haven't read or watched it yet. I am currently contemplating on whether or not I should watch the films at all because films never do me justice and alter the way I envision characters and settings initially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes watered now and then and I really hope my colleagues didn't hear me sniffling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm off to finish the Harry Potter saga before the sixth movie launches its release in just 8 days! (P.S. The Twilight Saga is so so so boring ...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355812153297743170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SlOqxvEILUI/AAAAAAAAAIU/hBmm-ZYwyjA/s320/Kite+runner.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;For you, a thousand times over.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-7599907614818893708?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7599907614818893708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7599907614818893708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/07/kite-runner.html' title='The Kite Runner'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SlOqxvEILUI/AAAAAAAAAIU/hBmm-ZYwyjA/s72-c/Kite+runner.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4935364726823823105</id><published>2009-07-06T00:34:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T00:39:50.636-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In with the old, and out with the new!</title><content type='html'>As my current budget does not allow me to have impulsive spending habits on shopping for new clothes and new shoes ... I figure why not dig through my mom's old wardrobe? Lo and behold, I've taken a liking to her former younger style. I've already claimed old belts and purses... As for shoes, I feel like the ugly stepsister to a Cinderella, if you know what I mean. I've found a lot of skirts and shirts in her closet lately and I am now claiming ownership. I'm sure these hand-me-downs can be handed down further to my future daughter hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, there isn't much to complain about nowadays. And on another note, I should really be more considerate, yes, yes I should. I will work on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer school is almost over and this is a crucial month in which there are many things for me to catch up on and yet at the very same time so many things not to miss. There should be more hours in a day, honestly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss high school. Meeting up with old friends revived this nostalgia in me that I know I will forever have. We all complained about how annoying our school was but in the end, I don't regret going at all. I just wish my little brother could have the same experience... :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4935364726823823105?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4935364726823823105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4935364726823823105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/07/in-with-old-and-out-with-new.html' title='In with the old, and out with the new!'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-6163470151527630179</id><published>2009-06-25T23:21:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T23:33:09.267-04:00</updated><title type='text'>RIP MJ</title><content type='html'>I didn't grow up with his music but I certainly allowed myself a fair dosage of his talent and his music to admire what kind of immense talent he had. Although he went a little cuckoo in our eyes because of the way he grew up and the pressure from the media, he always had more people on his side more often than not. I think everyone feels horrible about the negative things they said about him, but no one will ever admit that they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="http://www.8notes.com/wiki/images/Mj872.jpg" src="http://www.8notes.com/wiki/images/Mj872.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will never be forgotten ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;I am still in shock and I am in denial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hGXJyw8X2vs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hGXJyw8X2vs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there's some Akon in there but when MJ sings in this song it makes me cry :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q6bARIaMhCM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q6bARIaMhCM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-6163470151527630179?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6163470151527630179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6163470151527630179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/06/rip-mj.html' title='RIP MJ'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-322580258830835678</id><published>2009-06-25T23:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T23:21:37.632-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Real vs. Fake</title><content type='html'>You know that question people always ask you and if they don't ask you directly, you know they're thinking it. Is that purse you're carrying real or fake? They're not only asking you about whether or not your purse is a real designer purse or a fake designer purse there always implications with what the answer is... Obviously as superficial as it may sound ... what you wear is how you portray yourself, your personality, the way people approach you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may often come off as pretentious, snobby maybe if one was wearing or carrying all the designer items with no deviation away from what we see. But they can afford it, they can shower themselves with expensive gifts. Some reward themselves with something real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bring this up because I hate it when people ask me if my stuff is real or fake. Obviously, they want to know, to also know what kind of a person I am. Can I really afford all that stuff or am I pretending to look like I can? But seriously guys ... whatever expensive things I own I worked hard for so yes it bother me sometimes when I have to explain that it is real when the answer should be obvious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-322580258830835678?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/322580258830835678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/322580258830835678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/06/real-vs-fake.html' title='Real vs. Fake'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4724955093464915943</id><published>2009-06-22T00:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T00:57:53.738-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Child's Play ?</title><content type='html'>It was like we were all kids again. Forgot the distances we put between us, forgot the age gaps and we sat down on carpeted floor staring at a whiteboard with some very trusty markers. And then laughing spasms began ... I haven't laughed like that in a long time. Who knew wishing to feel like wanting to be out of breath would be desirable?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I know everyday should be different and should be about change. A few things some people said to me today woke me up once again... and I hope this time for good. I need to make some changes in my life and it's going to start now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NTS: crlsnsptncmntnc&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4724955093464915943?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4724955093464915943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4724955093464915943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/06/childs-play.html' title='Child&apos;s Play ?'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-7321076222389181022</id><published>2009-06-19T18:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T18:51:17.859-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Figuring it out</title><content type='html'>He doesn't drop hints per se, nor does he assert things to avoid making promises. There's a slip here and there in casual speech that expresses intentions. Because of that, I am fairly content.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, comparing to couples who do have these discussions vs. couples who don't at all ... I'm not sure where I'd rather be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-7321076222389181022?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7321076222389181022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7321076222389181022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/06/figuring-it-out.html' title='Figuring it out'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-5078912390612726703</id><published>2009-06-17T20:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T21:09:47.155-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Space and Time</title><content type='html'>Two words I heard over and over again during my second year. I never knew that these two words, or ideas, both of which influences our lives day to day would be so significant to me beyond lectures and readings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found that a person needs space and time to heal, space and time in order to have closure, and likewise to forgive and forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have really weird behavioural patterns ... which reminds me that he's pretty much deemed us as "humanoids". Like do you ever wonder how what other possible life forms in outerspace might observe us? We stare at animals and insects and we ooh ahh at the wonders that God placed in front of us. If an intelligent alien were to observe us in the same manner, wouldn't you think we'd be the most fascinating creatures and yet the most confusing species to understand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have set so many societal rules, personal demands that restrict us from living happily. Actually there aren't really any rules anymore. At this day and age, whatever seems right at the moment goes. We hardly ever pause to think how our actions affect a particular outcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've done something wrong, or someone has wronged us. Some may blow up, fuming, while others aren't even affected one bit. Regardless, both have elements of space and time that contribute to that result....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I over thinking things?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I might be rambling again... I've been rambling a lot lately when I get a chance to vent, talk, whatever. I think this has a direct correlation from my being cooped up in a cubicle all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, my doctor says I should go outside more. 2 years ago, I would not have thought this would become a primary issue -.-.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-5078912390612726703?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5078912390612726703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5078912390612726703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/06/space-and-time.html' title='Space and Time'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-1061461963557402433</id><published>2009-06-10T19:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T19:55:14.854-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Self vs. Others</title><content type='html'>Do I do what makes me happy or do I do it for the sake of others' satisfaction? I believe in both but I hate jeopardizing what makes me happy and yet I hate not pleasing others to the very least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've worked very hard to be satisfied with who I am and when someone tells me that I could be better, I don't doubt that... there's always room to improve. But a part of me tells me that somehow what I'm doing isn't enough, that what I'm comfortable with now isn't up to par.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-1061461963557402433?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1061461963557402433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1061461963557402433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/06/self-vs-others.html' title='Self vs. Others'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2700772230402574492</id><published>2009-06-02T23:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T23:08:39.479-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Head Over Heels</title><content type='html'>I haven't felt this way in a long, long time. Or I may never have felt this way ever, come to think of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He may not shower me with gifts or whisper sweet-nothings in my ear often, but when he does, I feel that much more special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also makes me that much more &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-style: italic;"&gt;scared&lt;/span&gt; of losing him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;love &lt;/span&gt;is risky... placing yourself in a vulnerable state, sinking deeper into quicksand as days go by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this moment though, I do not mind it at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh ... and work is boring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-2700772230402574492?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2700772230402574492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2700772230402574492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/06/head-over-heels.html' title='Head Over Heels'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-7807235926581835754</id><published>2009-06-02T21:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T23:01:48.840-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Boy</title><content type='html'>You make me smile and laugh even with the simplest booger and fart jokes. 8-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-7807235926581835754?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7807235926581835754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7807235926581835754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/06/boys.html' title='Boy'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-1673754499490448260</id><published>2009-05-31T03:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T03:26:43.655-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Meeko</title><content type='html'>My favourite raccoon of all time.&lt;br /&gt;Every time I see a raccoon, I think that it's Meeko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a really cute family of raccoons the other day. Seeing families of ducks, pretty normal... but I've never seen a family of raccoons before and I have to tell you that it is absolutely the cutest thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were three baby raccoons following in their mother's footsteps and one of them couldn't even walk properly yet! The mommy, I'm guessing, was trying to teach them how to climb trees and fences. The one that couldn't walk properly was struggling SO BAD climbing down the fence and tree, but she never abandoned it. She kept teaching, she kept trying. It got to the point where she wrapped her arms around her baby and tried to yank him down. But his hind legs would not budge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Words cannot describe about how in awe I was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-1673754499490448260?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1673754499490448260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1673754499490448260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/05/meeko.html' title='Meeko'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-839281943265478044</id><published>2009-05-27T12:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T12:06:18.595-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You gotta know what to do.</title><content type='html'>Plain and simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're all critical thinkers and not knowing how to do, when to do, what to do just sounds like a lame excuse as we mature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, myself, am guilty of making excuses time  and time again so that I don't take responsibility  for not making something happen. I am always working towards being proactive  now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;And I encourage you to do the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Otherwise we will never be taken seriously nor  regarded as responsible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-839281943265478044?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/839281943265478044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/839281943265478044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/05/you-gotta-know-what-to-do.html' title='You gotta know what to do.'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8116717587486248832</id><published>2009-05-21T23:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T23:11:24.451-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BULLSH.T</title><content type='html'>Mister introduced me to this show. One that debunks all the crazy things we believe works or is actually good for us. Obviously there's a little bias here and there but ultimately it asks us to be critical of what we see or hear. After all, everything's a business and everywhere around us screams for our attention... and our money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe as easily as I used to and I ask questions all the time. Some are answered, and some have yet to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My question now is ... do face products actually work? I've been using these "placenta masks", let's call them, for the past two years now. (I swear it's not as gross as it sounds, it's actually quite therapeutic) It makes my skin silky smoosuh. But I don't really think my skin was that bad to begin with (minus the 3 years of acne)... so is it the products or is it the naturally healing skin cells that repair themselves everyday? Do I even want to indulge in products at all?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8116717587486248832?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8116717587486248832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8116717587486248832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/05/bullsht.html' title='BULLSH.T'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-5776694650042060742</id><published>2009-05-21T18:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T18:48:22.707-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Which is better?</title><content type='html'>Sitting in a cubicle that's far away from the window making money or sitting outside on a hot, sunny day not making money?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-5776694650042060742?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5776694650042060742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5776694650042060742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/05/which-is-better.html' title='Which is better?'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8654861909867712402</id><published>2009-05-20T19:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T19:44:02.049-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Clutterbug</title><content type='html'>That I am, that I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8654861909867712402?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8654861909867712402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8654861909867712402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/05/clutterbug.html' title='Clutterbug'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4205077992302540656</id><published>2009-05-19T14:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T14:08:59.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It only gets better</title><content type='html'>Proof:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShL0knRdr0I/AAAAAAAAAHg/8y40jR9B5gE/s1600-h/051808-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShL0knRdr0I/AAAAAAAAAHg/8y40jR9B5gE/s320/051808-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337597418242158402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;May 18, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShL0lG0Z16I/AAAAAAAAAHo/ktq2KqZHsvw/s1600-h/0515097+-+Copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShL0lG0Z16I/AAAAAAAAAHo/ktq2KqZHsvw/s320/0515097+-+Copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337597426710206370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;May 15, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4205077992302540656?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4205077992302540656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4205077992302540656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/05/it-only-gets-better.html' title='It only gets better'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShL0knRdr0I/AAAAAAAAAHg/8y40jR9B5gE/s72-c/051808-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8091338367343907309</id><published>2009-05-19T11:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T12:01:56.235-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is "love" enough?</title><content type='html'>We always thought it was the immense love that bound them together, kept them together for so many years (relative to relationships nowadays). We considered them the hot couple, the meant-to-be couple ... like how we considered Hollywood couples back in the day ... America's sweethearts re: Jessica Simpson/Nick Lachey ; Chad Michael Murray/Sophia Bush ; Reese Witherspoon/Ryan Phillipe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had broken up recently, after what we knew from the friend circle, a vacation to the tropics. A vacation usually brings two closer, wouldn't you think? I guess that's what one thought as well. The sudden request for a one month break was a surprise. Break requests are never a good sign. Patient as the person is, the break was allowed, space was given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one month is way overdue. And rumours say that one of the two has already found a potential replacement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although it is really none of my business, I am disappointed and I have to say the person should've had more tact and respect in consideration of all those years together. Is this out of spite? Is there a message he/she is trying to get across?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, it is none of my business but I was always a true believer in lasting relationships and I thought this one was one of them. As such, I started thinking of reasons why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only reason I could think of is maybe their love wasn't enough to bind them together. After three years you would think that they would've started planning their future together. Maybe they did, maybe they didn't. But for argument's sake, I am going to hypothetically say that they didn't. They're both great people but with no careers under their belt. Maybe they have the intention to get somewhere but you know that actions speak louder than words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one that should be in control of the relationship wasn't. The one that should always be by the other's side decided that he/she deserved more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the question remains, is "love" enough? (sidenote: I put "love" in quotes because each person has their own defnition of love.) Will "love" empower the two so much to overcome any obstacles? Is it entirely wrong to give up on something like this for selfish desires? (ie. a more promising future of stability and wealth, possibly?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it wasn't enough in their case and I certainly hope that it is in ours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: -moz-zoom-in;" alt="http://www.evilbeetgossip.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/08/rrava.jpg" src="http://www.evilbeetgossip.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/08/rrava.jpg" width="416" height="572" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stay strong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8091338367343907309?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8091338367343907309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8091338367343907309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/05/is-love-enough.html' title='Is &quot;love&quot; enough?'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-3449768440451433654</id><published>2009-05-18T20:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T20:15:57.512-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Past</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"The only way to move on is to let go of the past."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some who say that the past does not matter anymore; it is the person who is in the present that matters, the person who will become ... someone better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the very same time however, I wish to know someone's past... to know what kind of a person they were, that make them who they are today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't mean to pry; it seems a little nosy. I just want to know. Is knowing necessary at all?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-3449768440451433654?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3449768440451433654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3449768440451433654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/05/past.html' title='The Past'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-128196840548368388</id><published>2009-05-15T14:09:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T15:05:22.028-04:00</updated><title type='text'>人情</title><content type='html'>(n) social relationship; (n) favor; good turn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a good long talk with my dad today regarding this term. A few people have done a lot for me in my best interest. I had two job offers today, and although it's a few weeks late to start working... I'm not complaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically I want to take the one I worked for. The other one, I had people help me get it. If I turn the first one down, I may not owe them anything but a simple explanation but I will feel like I am shutting some doors. If I turn the latter down, I'll never be able to rebuild the relationships and never be able to return the favour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the answer is simple.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-128196840548368388?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/128196840548368388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/128196840548368388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title='人情'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-5713201418542601550</id><published>2009-05-11T00:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T00:12:48.327-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Drunken Words are Sober Thoughts</title><content type='html'>There is no greater joy than to see someone appreciate what you've done for him with such sincerity. I do not mind at all going through trouble to see him laugh and smile with ease. I don't need you to do anything for me in return as your requited love for me is more than enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still get butterflies everyday ...&lt;br /&gt;I still, like a little girl, savour each moment, word, text message, hug and kiss like it just happened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-5713201418542601550?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5713201418542601550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5713201418542601550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/05/drunken-words-are-sober-thoughts.html' title='Drunken Words are Sober Thoughts'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2368516790345274488</id><published>2009-05-04T18:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T18:33:38.681-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blood</title><content type='html'>The 'thing' running through us that gives us life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this a sign? ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-2368516790345274488?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2368516790345274488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2368516790345274488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/05/blood.html' title='Blood'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8617304688461990744</id><published>2009-04-30T00:44:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T01:20:42.420-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't want a first for everything</title><content type='html'>We had our first real argument today. By real I mean, full out ... neither of us putting our pride down. Arguments usually start out with a trivial discussion, and then when neither sees eye to eye that's when things get really heated up... and that's exactly what happened. Whatever we were arguing about initially hardly matters, what I'm still fuming is that there should be an understanding that it takes two to argue. And while there may be one instigator, to pin point one through the blame game starts another world war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Regardless, it's over and done with. I love you just as much nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SfkzsDKAYyI/AAAAAAAAAG4/0-cnGIGQZkc/s1600-h/IMG_3288.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SfkzsDKAYyI/AAAAAAAAAG4/0-cnGIGQZkc/s200/IMG_3288.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330348465824228130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Contigo para siempre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8617304688461990744?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8617304688461990744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8617304688461990744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-dont-want-first-for-everything.html' title='I don&apos;t want a first for everything'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SfkzsDKAYyI/AAAAAAAAAG4/0-cnGIGQZkc/s72-c/IMG_3288.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4419823636303872383</id><published>2009-04-28T14:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T14:08:50.966-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Source of Survival</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;These guys used to be my life, and then priorities changed when university took over. Well, they're back in my life now :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SfdE4lGj4wI/AAAAAAAAAGw/BBLwtty-eZs/s1600-h/042709+-+Copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329804422839264002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 292px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SfdE4lGj4wI/AAAAAAAAAGw/BBLwtty-eZs/s400/042709+-+Copy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;-C. S. Lewis&lt;/span&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/8187965-4419823636303872383?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4419823636303872383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4419823636303872383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/04/these-guys-used-to-be-my-life-and-then.html' title='My Source of Survival'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SfdE4lGj4wI/AAAAAAAAAGw/BBLwtty-eZs/s72-c/042709+-+Copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-511826045882869911</id><published>2009-04-28T02:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T02:31:39.556-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In All Honesty</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm still waiting for the one that slow dances with me to some John Coltrane. The one that kisses my forehead from time to time as we cook dinner together on a rainy night. The one that wraps me up in his arms so deeply that I can only get lost in him. The one that stays up all night to watch the stars with me in a warm and fuzzy blanket until the sun rises. The one that sings me to sleep in a tone so soft, I can only guess the song while breathing in his voice, knowing that he will always cure my insomnia. The one that watches me sleep and secretly kisses me, asking for nothing in return. The one that fights for me no matter what nonsense my insecurities may pull because he knows me better than I know myself. The one man enough to handle me but soft enough to cradle me. The one that goes fishing with my father. The one I can see fathering my kids. I'm still waiting...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;- KYS&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don't know if this description is someone you already have to be or someone you develop into ... I think I might have to take the latter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-511826045882869911?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/511826045882869911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/511826045882869911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-all-honesty.html' title='In All Honesty'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-7065423331213563834</id><published>2009-03-06T11:10:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T11:24:26.045-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Slow to Anger</title><content type='html'>I'm rarely ever upset to the extent of anger but the title is just another to describe the difficulty of practicing patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday I encounter things that annoy me such as empty words, constant excuses, inconsideration, etc. I could react, or I could take a breather and just turn the other cheek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually reaction is a result of pride, it feels good momentarily.&lt;br /&gt;And then there's the right thing to do, and it feels good for a longer time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'll be a happier person that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are days when I wish I was my high school self, and then there are other days that I am thankful that I matured. When you see me intoxicated, that would be how I was like sober in high school. I am a lot more contained nowadays for fear of others' opinions ... Sometimes it's sometimes fun to not care what people think and all you know is that being high on life cannot be replaced by another feeling. As such, you look like a happy-go-lucky-nothing-can-bring-you-down person. Oh, and I was so full of love; I was friends with everybody and couldn't see a single flaw in anybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like I have x-ray vision now and suddenly the little flaws are so evident and then you just become a little more guarded, the walls are suddenly under construction to be the highest and longest walls ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.theodora.com/wfb/photos/china/great_wall_china_photo_gov_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 339px; height: 480px;" src="http://www.theodora.com/wfb/photos/china/great_wall_china_photo_gov_2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;"Sometimes you put walls up to keep people up, but to see who cares enough to break them down."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-7065423331213563834?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7065423331213563834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7065423331213563834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/03/slow-to-anger.html' title='Slow to Anger'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-709459578736424901</id><published>2009-02-18T14:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T14:56:41.885-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sincerest of Apologies</title><content type='html'>I haven't been very good lately with seeing friends I used to see almost everyday. I used to clear out my schedule every single day so I could foster these friendships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, although I would prefer to be out and about seeing the currently strange faces, I find myself opting to stay at home and "study".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry that I haven't been there for you guys physically and emotionally but just don't ever forget that not a day goes by where I don't think of each of you individually and hope you're holding up better than okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 345px; height: 234px;" alt="http://users.telenet.be/vandeputairbrush/fantasie/forever-friends.jpg" src="http://users.telenet.be/vandeputairbrush/fantasie/forever-friends.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-709459578736424901?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/709459578736424901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/709459578736424901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-sincerest-of-apologies.html' title='My Sincerest of Apologies'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-7398576802972150536</id><published>2009-02-17T13:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T13:54:29.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Be My Valentine</title><content type='html'>I had a most beautiful Valentines weekend with my dearest. We were celebrating both the Hallmark day of "love" and a year since meeting each other this weekend. It's crazy how this past year unfolded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's not the most romantic of types but when he is, the surprise is all worth it. Thank you for the thoughtful gifts, I fully love them and appreciate it them! We then went snowboarding on February 14, just the two of us. The day after, which marks a year, we went to get ourselves pampered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are simply D'vine! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="http://www.bbtoystore.com/Merchant2/beanies/T_dvine.jpg" src="http://www.bbtoystore.com/Merchant2/beanies/T_dvine.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-7398576802972150536?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7398576802972150536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7398576802972150536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/02/be-my-valentine.html' title='Be My Valentine'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-6041410329676090156</id><published>2009-02-09T03:44:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T03:47:04.978-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One of Those Days</title><content type='html'>There are the days when sometimes I feel it's too good to be true and then there are days when it's just an ordinary day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the day that I feel overwhelmed with love which makes me so happy to be where I am with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-6041410329676090156?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6041410329676090156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6041410329676090156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-of-those-days.html' title='One of Those Days'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-944594978174831934</id><published>2009-02-04T01:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T01:03:53.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Independence</title><content type='html'>I think I grew up with a really independent lifestyle, being the eldest child and all. My mom had to send me away to programs to keep me occupied while she was raising my siblings. I didn't really mind, I learned a lot of stuff while I was at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can go places by myself ie. I don't need a washroom buddy and I usually figure stuff out on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this moment, I don't know if I want to be independent...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does it mean to be independent anyway? It suddenly sounds so lonely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-944594978174831934?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/944594978174831934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/944594978174831934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/02/independence.html' title='Independence'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8576110246730215010</id><published>2009-01-14T21:12:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T21:30:49.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Regrets</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SW6fXweYCTI/AAAAAAAAAGM/MIomnm4d464/s1600-h/pzfreak.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SW6fXweYCTI/AAAAAAAAAGM/MIomnm4d464/s200/pzfreak.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291341842705025330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We all have it and we wish a rewind button existed.&lt;br /&gt;I know I do all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I regret the most over choices I made when I could've taken the other option and mostly doing things out of deliberate defiance and impatience. Or there were regrets for things that I didn't do because I was so concerned about the wrong things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time though, if those choices weren't made and those actions weren't taken, would I still change the way my life is now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to say. Academically, I think I could've made a better choice. Socially and emotionally, I think the past 2 years of events contribute to the way things are now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it comes down to whether or not a rewind button exists, I don't think I'd change a thing despite my random rants otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ugly past makes us better people for the future when we decide to let go of it and learn from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SW6fppJOLtI/AAAAAAAAAGU/kA1xgdZhMDQ/s1600-h/IMG_3046+-+Copy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SW6fppJOLtI/AAAAAAAAAGU/kA1xgdZhMDQ/s200/IMG_3046+-+Copy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291342149974896338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;as long as you love me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8576110246730215010?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8576110246730215010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8576110246730215010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/01/regrets.html' title='Regrets'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/SW6fXweYCTI/AAAAAAAAAGM/MIomnm4d464/s72-c/pzfreak.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-3524092195223231865</id><published>2009-01-14T02:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T02:25:08.705-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Revival</title><content type='html'>Writing on a blog for anonymous readers...&lt;br /&gt;My favourite thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;Because I am an attention seeker and also a time-waster right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might possibly be crazy because in essence I am talking to nobody but myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a wake-up call today, literally by way of a text message. It was one of those things that really strengthened my determination to do better in school because... frankly, I don't think my marks are reflecting my intelligence. It's more so reflecting my work ethic and that really sucks 'cause I do want to work hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working hard is difficult when you don't even know what you're working for. In other words, I don't know what the hell I wanna do. Regardless and at this rate, I have to work hard anyways to see what benefits my diligence reaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll write more often to see how I mature in thinking and in speech. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Our anniversary is soon. ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-3524092195223231865?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3524092195223231865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3524092195223231865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2009/01/revival.html' title='Revival'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-3264065632306250177</id><published>2008-12-30T00:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T00:18:41.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unconditional Love</title><content type='html'>I'm prayin' that you are a person that is an example of unconditional love. Despite my past that I am not too proud of and despite the things you had to witness with your own eyes, you still chose to love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're asking if you can trust me and I know so far there hasn't been a case where your trust in me is jeopardized but yet sometimes I feel as if you will use my past against me. I'm scared shitless that every time I think about it I feel like crying - the way I felt before there was any us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trusting that you are a man of unconditional love because you're all I ever want.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-3264065632306250177?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3264065632306250177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3264065632306250177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2008/12/unconditional-love.html' title='Unconditional Love'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-5408846688842118118</id><published>2008-12-19T13:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T13:50:32.014-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All I want for Christmas, is you.</title><content type='html'>It's hard to buy a present for a non-materialistic person... ie. Mike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ask him, what you want for Christmas&lt;br /&gt;He says, Nothing&lt;br /&gt;Playfully, I ask him again, nothing??&lt;br /&gt;He says, nothing.&lt;br /&gt;I ask him, Nothing, even no one?&lt;br /&gt;He replies smiling, no one.&lt;br /&gt;I ask him, you don't want meeeeeee for Christmas?&lt;br /&gt;He says, I already have you :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-5408846688842118118?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5408846688842118118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5408846688842118118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2008/12/all-i-want-for-christmas-is-you.html' title='All I want for Christmas, is you.'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8452895319815856056</id><published>2008-12-09T20:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:26:00.673-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Long Haul</title><content type='html'>I live by the "whatever's supposed to happen, will happen" attitude - it sounds the most reasonable. But do our current choices not determine what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole God's plan thing is all so confusing to me. Like basically our lives are already planned out, so is there a point in choosing something, hoping for something ('cause that's part of our plan too right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like if we could choose who we would be with for the rest of our life, is that part of His plan or do we have enough power to control it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a confusing topic but yet sometimes I feel like I can change my future and sometimes I feel like it's already set out for me so if I want more than is planned... it won't make a difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike and I have been dating for about nine months now and honestly, I don't wanna be consumed in this relationship (because I really want to) if nothing is going to come of it after. He's old enough to get married and honestly, I don't think he's wasting his time on an "almost adult" like me if he wasn't serious right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure that after dating a few years - it's enough to say that if we can tolerate each other for like 4 years, we can live with each other for 40. But at the same time, it's a choice; we choose who our significant other will be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or do we?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8452895319815856056?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8452895319815856056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8452895319815856056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2008/12/long-haul.html' title='The Long Haul'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-431852159051238623</id><published>2008-12-03T23:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T23:41:04.315-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There's a first for everything</title><content type='html'>We're giving each other our first silent treatment and I am not liking it at all.................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-431852159051238623?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/431852159051238623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/431852159051238623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2008/12/theres-first-for-everything.html' title='There&apos;s a first for everything'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-1527282416358252389</id><published>2008-11-29T17:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T17:45:09.381-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Uneven Distribution</title><content type='html'>And the tears begin to fall...&lt;br /&gt;When you know that one loves the other more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-1527282416358252389?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1527282416358252389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1527282416358252389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2008/11/uneven-distribution.html' title='Uneven Distribution'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-1347381465640492103</id><published>2008-10-08T21:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T21:20:29.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ever After</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right; color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="quote"&gt;Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to doesn't mean they don't love you the best way they know how.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;-Icon&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;                          &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every girl has her envisioned fairy tale. Unfortunately, not all become reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily enough, I am experiencing a taste of a fairy tale, my version. I can admit that I am a bit needy and I like to be flourished with love and affection whenever possible - he is not that type of man, however. He is more of the actions-speak-louder-than-words type.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know he loves me, even though he does not say it as often as I thought he should. My ex - the ones thereafter do not count to me as they never really dug a hole deep inside my heart to claim their part... well he said it to me many times a day. Well that relationship was short-lived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I start to see the irony of saying it. On one hand, saying those special three words so much kind of desensatizes you the effect of expressing it. But on the other hand, constant reminders in words is a sign of affection...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This current man in my life is one that has experienced much and is teaching me even more. The constant TLC he provides is more than I deserve. With that said, I am working my way towards wifey material&lt;span class="quote"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that way I will start to get a taste of my happy ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;pre&gt;The way we held each other's hand,&lt;br /&gt;The way we talked, the way we laughed,&lt;br /&gt;It felt so good to find true love&lt;br /&gt;I knew right then and there you were the one.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Brown Eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-1347381465640492103?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1347381465640492103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1347381465640492103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2008/10/ever-after.html' title='Ever After'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2472033210298135912</id><published>2008-09-25T11:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T11:40:47.015-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To each, their own</title><content type='html'>We're writing about values in Writing 2121 (elementary + high school English combined).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all relative. How each person was raised and how each person perceives their own life. &lt;-(fragment)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My value was, is and always will be,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only because nothing can exceed its power, its indefinite parameters and its ever so comforting attributes. I wrote in my essay, its the only value that sustains over time and the only value that empowers you to value other things that go along with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see examples everyday about how love was and was not demonstrated throughout. I don't ever want people to witness how I didn't show a form of love, but instead with everything I've been taught as a child until now, I will be sharing my hugs, my kisses, my smiles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However most of my love will go towards my boyfriend, my family and my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Ever thine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Ever mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Ever ours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;Immortal Beloved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt; - Beethoven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-2472033210298135912?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2472033210298135912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2472033210298135912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2008/09/to-each-their-own.html' title='To each, their own'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-734766428749763955</id><published>2008-09-19T02:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T02:31:13.622-04:00</updated><title type='text'>With a Cherry on Top</title><content type='html'>Second year has definitely been quite the change from what I was as a froshie.&lt;br /&gt;1. People will keep coming into my life and right back out.&lt;br /&gt;2. Setting my priorities seems so much easier now... My going to the library to finish work and studying is more frequent and so is staying in touch with my family and closest friends in the world.&lt;br /&gt;3. Despite my zeal for versatility, I have joined less clubs than I would have liked to but my energy and my schedule just will not allow it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss being young, wild, free HAHA ie. like going out every weekend but I also like this part of growing up. You start enjoying being at home, saving money and spending some sweet time with quite possibly a significant other :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a bit sad not being able to return home this weekend given that it is my parents` birthdays and I miss the bee-eff dearly :(. Yah I know I am being a pansy and I might just be too sensitive for my own good but I cannot help it. I miss him and I know he does too teehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fruit at the bottom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-734766428749763955?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/734766428749763955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/734766428749763955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2008/09/with-cherry-on-top.html' title='With a Cherry on Top'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-1606134932559142034</id><published>2008-02-26T14:28:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T02:19:25.679-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why was I so surprised? Why did I act like I didn't expect it?&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want to believe it. I was in denial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so stupid to keep playing this game. I was stupid enough to think I would eventually win. I know you still care, I know you still like me, I know you still need me. But you're not ready for me. You apologized and I guess you were right about everything that I did to you, and for that, I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things will never happen between us anymore. But don't ever forget all the promises you made to me 'cause I never will.&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you said you were sorry and I know you feel bad about it. Please think smarter next time. None of the reasons why you did what you did was justified. You knew it all because I told all of it to you and yet you still went ahead and did it. What were you thinking? Were you just completely hoping nothing ever happened between us so you could get a shot at it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was never mad at you, but I'll never forget what you did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-1606134932559142034?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1606134932559142034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1606134932559142034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2008/02/why-was-i-so-surprised-why-did-i-act.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8119564920501434012</id><published>2008-02-19T00:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T00:35:40.504-05:00</updated><title type='text'>0216</title><content type='html'>I wanted to love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After much denial, today I realized that it will never happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how much you run back to me time and time again, and I willingly take you back as if nothing ever hurt me... I can't do that anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired...&lt;br /&gt;Really tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is closure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8119564920501434012?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8119564920501434012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8119564920501434012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2008/02/0216.html' title='0216'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-3126757692457786821</id><published>2008-01-09T00:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T00:39:55.840-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yeayeah, it's annoying when I keep switching between Xanga and blog but... now I feel like posting here. Maybe tomorrow will be different. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot to bring my journal back to London, so now it's just living the lone wolf life in my room. I wrote my New Years' Resolutions in it so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. For starters, I've got QT with God everyday. Definitely a good start/end to the day. Go to every class (or at least try to). Do or start the work the day it is assigned. Be a more patient person. Be myself - like it or not, I can't change just to satisfy one person 'cause in turn, I will just have screwed myself over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I really should be doing my reading first before I do this but haha, already I've got my priorities mixed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something to think about:&lt;br /&gt;Going to university, you meet so many more people beyond your comfort zone - you've got your high school friends who essentially come from the same place that you have, your church friends who have basically got your back... you know them inside and out. Here, you meet everyone and you hardly know what to expect and what they're really thinking. But I guess that's how you set who your real friends are, who the real Christians are - truly passionate about your friendship and God. I guess that's why we gotta always look toward Jesus for an example of how to live. It gets a lot harder when we grow up, we get a lot lazier and a lot more self-centered. But here's a challenge to LOVE beyond limits and SERVE without borders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;"You can’t lead the people, if you don’t love the people. You can’t save the people, if you don’t serve the people."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;- Cornel West, Professor at Princeton University. (The Way I See It #284)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-3126757692457786821?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3126757692457786821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3126757692457786821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2008/01/yeayeah-its-annoying-when-i-keep.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2659141741319786322</id><published>2007-12-30T01:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T01:58:37.738-05:00</updated><title type='text'>MY 2007</title><content type='html'>I thoroughly enjoyed this round of UFC. Last time was fun too. Sigh, male influences always get to me - I am no longer a lady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking I should do my... year's reflection post now... pictures, descriptions, memories and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ski trips, baptisms, goodbyes, birthdays, funerals, China missions, HK, alcoholic escapades, laughing spasms, heartaches, that's what I remember most of my year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... more to come... doing these kinds of posts are so tedious...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-2659141741319786322?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2659141741319786322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2659141741319786322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-2007.html' title='MY 2007'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-3885541768727807087</id><published>2007-12-27T04:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T04:18:30.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>nostalgic tendencies</title><content type='html'>They're kickin' in again.&lt;br /&gt;Even though the first seems more available, it's not right.&lt;br /&gt;The second was short but sweet and I miss it.&lt;br /&gt;And the third, I wish I could say I could start it all over again. I'm pretty bummed out at how it ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drama I'm watching now is &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; good. Which would explain why I'm up at this hour...&lt;br /&gt;Dayyym...&lt;br /&gt;J'ai besoin d'un petit ami maintenant. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-3885541768727807087?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3885541768727807087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3885541768727807087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/nostalgic-tendencies.html' title='nostalgic tendencies'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4874971678001012027</id><published>2007-12-24T00:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T01:02:32.177-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh how I love good clean wholesome fun.&lt;br /&gt;A night of board games, instruments, Xbox, whatever...&lt;br /&gt;along with a bunch of us church softball freaks&lt;br /&gt;yaya, craziness is bound to happen.&lt;br /&gt;Pictionary and Hedband, mmmmmmmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm gonna take it easy the next couple days.&lt;br /&gt;Watch some dramas, fam dinners and such, and then try to put what I need to do before I head back to school in an agenda. Okay, I am on a roll :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4874971678001012027?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4874971678001012027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4874971678001012027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/oh-how-i-love-good-clean-wholesome-fun.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-7841849587289208429</id><published>2007-12-23T01:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-23T01:10:17.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Give or Take</title><content type='html'>So I guess you can't have it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was nice.&lt;br /&gt;Alvin and the Chipmunks and some good ol' Korean food with a panda.&lt;br /&gt;Chillin' with the fam for our traditional dinners.&lt;br /&gt;Bummin' around with some church buddies.&lt;br /&gt;The night ended off with a really nice touch. =)&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for stickin' by 'til now - who would've ever thought?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot of show marathons to go through. So let the fun begin! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things to do:&lt;br /&gt;1. China&lt;br /&gt;2. CAISA FS&lt;br /&gt;3. Workout&lt;br /&gt;4. Shopping&lt;br /&gt;5. See people&lt;br /&gt;6. Clean&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-7841849587289208429?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7841849587289208429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7841849587289208429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/give-or-take.html' title='Give or Take'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-6464355448115040018</id><published>2007-12-22T00:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T00:53:41.097-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Exhausted.</title><content type='html'>A week's passed. I've gotten to see some people, I've slept in enough, had my fair share of food and yet there's still so much for me to do, for me to see. &lt;u&gt;MUST. BE. PRODUCTIVE.&lt;/u&gt; these next two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend's going to be interesting. Can't wait to see what's to come out of it. On the other hand, I just need one crazy night - new years anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of thinking and I'm tired of my previous ways. I've let go and I'm glad a new year is coming so I can do everything new. I need to be renewed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I learned this year, summed up in three phrases:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;LOVE ALL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;TRUST FEW.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;DO WRONG TO NO ONE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;- SHAKESPEARE&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/8187965-6464355448115040018?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6464355448115040018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6464355448115040018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/exhausted.html' title='Exhausted.'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-7686829945061380831</id><published>2007-12-21T01:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T01:09:49.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dramatic Irony</title><content type='html'>It's hard to make good judgments on any given situation when we don't know the full extent of the details. And so, jumping to conclusions usually happens and everything thereafter is affected by it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I wanna know every little bit, I guess life wouldn't be so interesting if we knew everything. How would things change if I knew what made you who you are today? What would be different if you knew my every thought?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe determining real friendships/relationships are defined that way. Who's gonna be patient enough to get to know who you really are beyond the apparent flaws? Who's gonna remain and choose to stick by beyond inconvenient circumstances?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;“Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-7686829945061380831?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7686829945061380831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7686829945061380831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/dramatic-irony.html' title='Dramatic Irony'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-6138455445284856808</id><published>2007-12-20T03:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T03:12:38.865-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything happens for a reason.</title><content type='html'>We hear that so much but yet we never believe in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after a few mishaps that happened tonight, with plans changed - I guess everything worked out for the better. Aside from the sushi I never got and the overpriced dinner, photohunt was some chills times with the girls :D and seeing the AY lovelies definitely made my day =).  If it weren't for changed plans, tonight wouldn't have ever happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think things are as bad as I feel that they are. I'm probably just overanalyzing; I just miss having you there all the time - even if it was only for a short while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, lots to dooooo, lots of people to seeeeee. Gonna get chuggin'!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;There's just no one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Who gets me like you do...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-6138455445284856808?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6138455445284856808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6138455445284856808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/everything-happens-for-reason.html' title='Everything happens for a reason.'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2867777450742558290</id><published>2007-12-18T02:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T02:38:22.301-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And so I wonder...&lt;br /&gt;What would have things looked like now if I didn't screw up?&lt;br /&gt;Would you have let go as fast as you grabbed on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm out of the Christmas hype for the timebeing. I'll probably get back into it this weekend. That's why theres a change in all the festive colours. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;It’s hard to watch people change right in front of you. But the worst part is remembering who they used to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So you didn't end up being who I thought you were and I guess I let you down in the same way. It's all about helping each other get there but I guess you're not ready for it yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Anyway, no time for all of this. Gotta make the most out of my 3 weeks. 4 days down, 18 more to optimize time for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-2867777450742558290?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2867777450742558290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2867777450742558290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/and-so-i-wonder.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-3888910009525735708</id><published>2007-12-15T22:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-15T22:35:24.738-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Since I've Been Back</title><content type='html'>After a totally rushed morning I had yesterday 'cause after telling myself I was just going to sleep for 10 more minutes, I slept for two more hours. It wasn't too bad, although I left a couple of really important things - case and court letters. Ah... hopefully the latter will turn out alright. Which reminds me... I need to write some emails... NTS: Goo Jerng, Carmen, Uncle Bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically roomie and I just went to Eaton Centre to kill time, whether we liked it or not - we were really exhausted though. We met up with Pheebs and walked around for a really short while and ended up just chilling in her room and then went back uptown to eat some Chinese food (mmmm... finally!) and then I went home and just chilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today woke up bright and (too) early for a movie - it was entertaining nevertheless. Shopped at Yorkdale for a while (I'm happy with my few purchases!), went to my dentist to get my teeth cleaned, and ended up at Promenade for a short while with my maja. I dunno, I feel like I should be in a bigger shopping mood with Christmas nearing and all but everything comes off as so expensive now. I always knew things were overpriced for what they were worth but after that marketing unit with all that markup costs and stuff, I honestly think that nothing that's laid out is really worth it. Maybe I'm just bitter 'cause I am in dire need of job. I think I feel this way 'cause this is the first time in two years that I haven't had income and it just takes a little getting used to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm.. I wished for snow. Now I'm not so sure that it's in my favour 'cause now it's not always safe to drive which means transportation is lacking which means going out will be lacking which means staying home is increasing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay on to the happy stuff! Mmm home cooked meals and mmm my own big bed with soft covers and pillows and everything and mmm to family and mmm to friends who I haven't seen in so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I'm bored I tend to go through Bumper Stickers on Facebook 'cause they're so amusing. I came across this one that caught my eye and made me think. I always know what to do in situations like this whether I do it or not but this one quote just put it in another perspective for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;"When life knocks you down to your knees, just remember that you are in the perfect position to pray."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should be in constant prayer nevertheless but that just emphasizes how much we need God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-3888910009525735708?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3888910009525735708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/3888910009525735708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/since-ive-been-back.html' title='Since I&apos;ve Been Back'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4731449970259660006</id><published>2007-12-12T20:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T21:00:07.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a mild case of ADD.</title><content type='html'>So... I'm here 'cause I want to rant about how I have a disorder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I prepared well for my MIT exam but I don't think I did well on it - does that make any kind of sense? I'm not going to talk about it further otherwise I will be depressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the exam, I spent a little time with Robert before I sent him on his way back to Toronto - what an funny guy. I miss HK so much more now. So after, I made my way back to my room and begged roomie to let me watch an episode of GG for therapy. It was good - I teared at the end. I haven't teared in a while. And then... I slept my feelings out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now? Why am I not studying? I don't want to &gt;.&lt; but I'll regret this tomorrow after I write this. I am in deep contemplation of whether or not I should start 286 sweatshop today or tomorrow. Most likely tomorrow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still so dam distracted this is gonna suck. My roomie and I have been yelling... out loud for many reasons. Okay... must... focus... ahhhhhhhhhhh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4731449970259660006?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4731449970259660006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4731449970259660006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-have-mild-case-of-add.html' title='I have a mild case of ADD.'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-5819717605312623806</id><published>2007-12-11T05:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T05:32:37.658-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I am weak.</title><content type='html'>As you scroll towards the end of the post, you will notice the absurd time of day at which I am awake at. Why you ask? I will tell you. Just one sec.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I woke up from my long nap, say... around 7PM. It was time to feed my ever-so-hungry tumtum. After getting food... might as well accompany it with a movie or a show or something right? Well it started out with a suggestion of &lt;em&gt;The Holiday&lt;/em&gt; as I was feeling quite festive... as always you should know by now. And then it moved onto, while-waiting-for-the-movie-to-download-let's-watch-Gossip-Girls-since-Rachel-hasn't-seen-it-before (for a very good reason, I might add -- I'll explain in a bit). So you know, the show starts... and my, all these neurotransmitters from the show totally kick in and totally make me ADDICTED. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;ADDICTED I TELL YOU!!!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, the movie didn't end up getting watched. More episodes kept feeding me... and now I want more. This is the very reason why my DC++ is not up and why I so adamantly refused to start any TV series in the first place. My heart breaks for my weakness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:(:(:( I am sad. I succumbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I currently finished halfway through on my top secret operation which will be revealed in two days' time. I have every intention to study. I will study. In a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is over.&lt;br /&gt;Fare thee well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-5819717605312623806?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5819717605312623806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/5819717605312623806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-am-weak.html' title='I am weak.'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-841776870918991873</id><published>2007-12-10T14:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T14:37:51.844-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All I Can Say is that...</title><content type='html'>I'm exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes are straining to stay awake, my circadian clock is retarded, no longer can my mind function beyond what is given and no longer am I trying to feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psych exam. Well for starters, I think I did better than I did on my midterm considering I put more effort into it this time. However, there is still so much room for me to put in. Next semester, I promise. My working habits will be significantly better. I learned my lesson, seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm waiting for my laundry to be done now. It's sad, over these past few months of living without my mom, I've already shrunk a pair of pants and a fave sweater of mine. I'm paranoid of how many other items of clothing I have yet to shrink this year. It's heartbreaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, train ticket bought for this Friday afternoon. Can't wait to be home. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-841776870918991873?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/841776870918991873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/841776870918991873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/all-i-can-say-is-that.html' title='All I Can Say is that...'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-191136619050130831</id><published>2007-12-09T19:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T20:09:56.206-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain Break #19284792384</title><content type='html'>So after the many contemplations this week of going to the library (what a distant memory) and even being &lt;em&gt;almost &lt;/em&gt;there today, my feet slowly brought me back to my room, that which has served me oh-so-well when I sleep and when I rise (very reluctantly).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow's my first exam... I've studied quite a bit and whether or not I do well (I pray to dear God I do), I like blogging. A lot more than I like Facebook I must say. I don't really mind being away from it for an extended period of time and whether or not my usage of it when I'm back one will increase to the level it once was... my verdict is this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ignorance is bliss.&lt;br&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;No longer will other people's pictures or updates matter to me. If I must be contacted, there are always more efficient ways =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So um... yeah I'm really out of shape. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Gots to go to the gym!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;... After exams.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;One of the best feelings in life is to laugh without reason but yet it is very reason why we laugh. Those are the ones that keep you going. Comprendez? I don't really make sense but I don't really care either.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Lots to do tomorrow!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Ace that exam&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Prepare for the next&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Buy my train tixx yo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Laundry (oh baby, that pile is getting big)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;br&gt;Every time I turn around&lt;br /&gt;I think I've got it all figured out&lt;br /&gt;My heart keeps callin'&lt;br /&gt;And I keep on fallin'&lt;br /&gt;Over and over again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;- Kelly Clarkson's "The Trouble with Love is"&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/8187965-191136619050130831?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/191136619050130831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/191136619050130831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/brain-break-19284792384.html' title='Brain Break #19284792384'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4568264238219303179</id><published>2007-12-09T04:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T04:18:10.534-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Before I sleep in hopes of resting my limbs, my brain for a very long day tomorrow... I just have to lay this out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shouldn't have gotten myself in those situations like I did. I know it's changed the way you perceive me as it did for me. I also don't ever want to see you as you have been lately. I'm not one to say, and I care about you just the same... It's just that I want to remember you as you were... not to long ago =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss the long talks but cheers to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay my eyes hurt from straining to stay awake..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4568264238219303179?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4568264238219303179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4568264238219303179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/before-i-sleep-in-hopes-of-resting-my.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4158635596770587754</id><published>2007-12-08T01:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T02:00:48.754-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Like a Child</title><content type='html'>Okay, I promise...This is the last of my very many brain breaks I've taken today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So roomie and I have been catching up after 48+ hours of absence.&lt;br /&gt;Chick flick and "awwing" and singing to a new jam.&lt;br /&gt;Bonding with our soph, Jugos (Naturales) - pronounced "huge-gose"&lt;br /&gt;Depressing each other with the much needed love that we currently don't have with sappy lyrics...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to my next point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we rush to grow up so much? We laugh at how naive and young people are, and yet that's the very flaw we continually never get rid of. We'll miss our innocent days sooner or later. Me? I always miss it. I miss being four years old and the only thing  I had to worry about was whether or not I was going to see my mom after school, if she was picking me up early or late. I miss being twelve years old with all those petty crushes that send butterflies in my stomach and blush every time someone brought up his name. With that requited, it was certain that "liking" was so genuine, so innocent - no ulterior motives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, we go through this "seeing" or "dealing" phase, most of the time with no follow through. I'm also one to blame. People want to "try" everything out before they settle on what they "feel" is right. It's not that easy nor is it fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, rant over.&lt;br /&gt;The following is what roomie and I have decided on what we miss feeling like, what we wish the significant other ever felt like, if ever confessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And it starts in my soul&lt;br /&gt;And I lose all control&lt;br /&gt;When you kiss my nose&lt;br /&gt;The feeling shows&lt;br /&gt;'cause you make me smile baby&lt;br /&gt;Just take your time now&lt;br /&gt;Holdin' me tight&lt;br /&gt;wherever you go&lt;br /&gt;I always know&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you make me smile&lt;br /&gt;Even just for a while&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;- an excerpt from Colbie Caillat's "Bubbly"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Amazing lyrics...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4158635596770587754?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4158635596770587754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4158635596770587754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/like-child.html' title='Like a Child'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4065028158950707217</id><published>2007-12-07T18:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T18:10:36.526-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Man, being able to sleep in is spoiling me. I set my alarm for 10AM and I end up waking at 2PM, two days in a row. Well at least I'm studying right? How intellectually inspired I am at this point, I'm not able to give an answer but... yeah. YAY for books!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My room is getting messier by the days, my food supply is slowly going down, my laundry is piling up... oh boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also really need to get out of my room. I always said I'd go to the library but I'm just so damn lazy to even walk out of the warmth of the res. Need... more... motivation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, despite hopes and whatnot I'm growing more independent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss high school - friends, the chills and all. Hopefully this Christmas break I'll be able to spend as much time as I can with all my loves. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do not look back and grieve over the past, for it is gone; and do not be troubled about the future, for it has not yet come. Live in the present, and make it so beautiful that it will be worth remembering&lt;/em&gt; - Ida Scott Taylor&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/8187965-4065028158950707217?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4065028158950707217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4065028158950707217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/man-being-able-to-sleep-in-is-spoiling.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-1561952682972063020</id><published>2007-12-06T17:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T17:07:36.457-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Could've Been</title><content type='html'>Well I know what to do now.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you to D.O. for helping me realize what things should look like. And you were the one that kept telling me how things should be. Thanks for giving me a heads up. I was really disappointed before but I'm getting over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more week 'til I'm back home and cozy! =)&lt;br /&gt;Study study study.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one I want to miss me most isn't.&lt;br /&gt;The one who is missing me, shouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;Funny how things work...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Could've been so beautiful&lt;br /&gt;Could've been so right...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/8187965-1561952682972063020?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1561952682972063020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1561952682972063020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/couldve-been.html' title='Could&apos;ve Been'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2649644387164081853</id><published>2007-12-05T22:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T23:13:32.117-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In God's Hands</title><content type='html'>The crazy week of trying to finish assignments is done. Now I've gotta set my mind on writing those three exams I so want to do well in. Hermit mode with occasional moments of living? Yeah that's what my next week's gonna look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month's definitely been a big change for me - mindset, lifestyle, ya know.. and the like. My priorities are being reset and so are my hopes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got anxious too early even though at the moment there was no doubt at all. God speaks time and time again. I'm listening and He's giving me neither a yes or a no. He says wait. I think He sent you into my life at the very moment I needed Him most so you could show me where I needed to be - thanks for that. Too bad you're nowhere near walking with me anymore like you were before. It's probably my fault - shouldn't have got involved in so many of those things - that's what made me so typical. Well anyway, point is... I learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God also spoke through another significant person... amazingly. He was the last person I ever would have thought that would teach me one of my biggest life lessons... He told me that I should never be too busy to talk to my mom. My mom, the rest of my family... man I had the biggest guilt trip... I still do now. The fact that I no longer see them everyday is definitely hitting me hard now. A little late I know but better late than never right? Well a week and I will be back where I belong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Another person also gave me one of the very well needed wake up calls. Again, totally didn't expect it but I'm totally glad he brought it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will."&lt;/em&gt; - Romans 12:2\&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;So that's from me to  you.&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/8187965-2649644387164081853?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2649644387164081853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2649644387164081853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/in-gods-hands.html' title='In God&apos;s Hands'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-7936005101922650025</id><published>2007-12-04T13:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T14:04:41.163-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i knew it</title><content type='html'>Je suis tres tres tres screwed.&lt;br /&gt;I knew I was going to regret spending so much time yesterday downloading Christmas music when I really should be working... SIGH*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more Facebook already. Now... no more MSN.&lt;br /&gt;My outlet will be here as I will have no one else to talk to.&lt;br /&gt;I'll always be a phone call away though ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 more days and my misery will be over, at least for a little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you roomie for getting me soup despite the little mishap you experienced. My tumtum was beginning to hate me for not feeding it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway things are looking brighter again =)&lt;br /&gt;Okay well I am going to carpe diem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finish my last 15 minutes of Psych class ever of 2007. Then it's out to perfecting my Korean skills and then working really hard on Marketing, and then show my prof how my Korean skills are done... and then working really hard on Marketing again... and then spending time with the KCF lovelies and then... working really REALLY hard on Marketing again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;With ordinary talent and extraordinary perseverance, all things are attainable.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;~Thomas Foxwell Buxton&lt;/em&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/8187965-7936005101922650025?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7936005101922650025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7936005101922650025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-knew-it.html' title='i knew it'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-1134197537829073922</id><published>2007-12-03T15:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:03:42.597-05:00</updated><title type='text'>time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;"If you make time for God, He will give you more time than you imagined." - B.Y.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I really should be working/studying just because I feel like I am so pressed for time. There's so much to think about... there's so much need for me to just settle down and stop stressing about everything and just...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;trust.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But I promise right after this I will put my entire focus into... compsci. MY BEST FRIEND!!! And the marketing report that I am so determined to do well in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Coming out of high school, I have begun to realize I wasn't as smart as I was, I'm not diligent enough like others - dam you keeners. It's such a big pressure for me to live up to standards. I guess in everything... I just gotta do my best.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I love Bible verses... after those long nights where I could be studying but instead I was fellowshipping with my B.A.S.I.C., it was so worth the sacrifice. God isn't limited by time and space and neither should we. I will spend as much time as I can with ACF and KCF - it's so rewarding...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Anyway it's snowing like crazy here - I love the feeling of it. It means snowboarding is coming and so are mmmm hot chocolates and just warming up with a big group of people. =)=)=)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1RsDS86KeI/AAAAAAAAACQ/TdelsUZMb6s/s1600-R/montreal13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139851878619294178" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1RsDS86KeI/AAAAAAAAACQ/sBw5VJuQE3Y/s200/montreal13.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1RsDS86KdI/AAAAAAAAACI/oU3DwGfTaMk/s1600-R/acf3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139851878619294162" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1RsDS86KdI/AAAAAAAAACI/i-iBJaYiC84/s200/acf3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1RsCy86KcI/AAAAAAAAACA/SHQQVY1lqcM/s1600-R/200710201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139851870029359554" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1RsCy86KcI/AAAAAAAAACA/zVs1S4qQnFw/s200/200710201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's in Montreal with my girls; small group fun; and back in October for Sam&amp;amp;Jer's 21st.&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/8187965-1134197537829073922?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1134197537829073922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1134197537829073922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/time.html' title='time'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1RsDS86KeI/AAAAAAAAACQ/sBw5VJuQE3Y/s72-c/montreal13.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-2063022393811833594</id><published>2007-12-03T01:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T01:03:42.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'>so much</title><content type='html'>I've had so much to say in the past month but I never got around to posting. I should really start to regularly post again just to get my thoughts out - pointless or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being here at Western has definitely changed the way I look at many things and the way I do things now. I've matured but I still have a long way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten more days and I'm going to be back at home. I need this break for revitalization, to take the time to plan things out for the future and to get back on track with all the stuff I've put off in the last little while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days are packed, but I kinda like it this way so I don't waste anytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures from recent days that aren't posted on Facebook because I deactivated it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1Opdi86KYI/AAAAAAAAABk/-S1ssP6DyP0/s1600-R/CIMG5642.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1Opei86KZI/AAAAAAAAABs/qK2zDcV7oBs/s1600-R/CIMG5639.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1Opdi86KYI/AAAAAAAAABk/-S1ssP6DyP0/s1600-R/CIMG5642.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139637924823443842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1Opdi86KYI/AAAAAAAAABk/5ZgoJv-eoAE/s200/CIMG5642.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1Opdi86KYI/AAAAAAAAABk/-S1ssP6DyP0/s1600-R/CIMG5642.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1Opei86KZI/AAAAAAAAABs/qK2zDcV7oBs/s1600-R/CIMG5639.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1Opei86KZI/AAAAAAAAABs/qK2zDcV7oBs/s1600-R/CIMG5639.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139637942003313042" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1Opei86KZI/AAAAAAAAABs/LUU_6eAVL5c/s200/CIMG5639.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1Opei86KZI/AAAAAAAAABs/qK2zDcV7oBs/s1600-R/CIMG5639.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tonight was CAISA Christmas... so many goodbyes already - it was kinda heartbreaking. God keeps teaching me to never waste time and so I won't. Thanks for a good semester guyses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;~Ralph Waldo Emerson&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/8187965-2063022393811833594?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2063022393811833594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/2063022393811833594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/12/so-much.html' title='so much'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/R1Opdi86KYI/AAAAAAAAABk/5ZgoJv-eoAE/s72-c/CIMG5642.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-4562376546881012716</id><published>2007-10-30T02:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T02:57:45.334-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A break from working... I do need to hide my computer away for a few days though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past two weekends were fun.&lt;br /&gt;I need someone to keep me grounded.&lt;br /&gt;I'm thankful.&lt;br /&gt;I had something more significant to say but it's slipped my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I'm too anxious.&lt;br /&gt;I'll stop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-4562376546881012716?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4562376546881012716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/4562376546881012716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/10/break-from-working.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-1031328976920008587</id><published>2007-10-14T20:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T20:44:31.572-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>As fall is settling in, so are we. I feel that now all the stupid high school drama's over, I can finally begin to manage my time, realize my priorities and make time for them. I see a balanced year for me as much as I regret taking some of my courses, my extracurrics are keeping me sane. Finally met up with some people beyond the ones I met during frosh week and there is definitely a homier feeling that's overtaken the atmosphere despite the cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm off to studying so I don't end up with just a plain ol' arts degree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-1031328976920008587?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1031328976920008587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/1031328976920008587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/10/as-fall-is-settling-in-so-are-we.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-6293079003931380003</id><published>2007-10-09T01:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T01:34:49.729-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"I called... you answered..."&lt;br /&gt;I'm in constant prayer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're the only place I find refuge in.&lt;br /&gt;You're the only One I know I can turn to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-6293079003931380003?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6293079003931380003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/6293079003931380003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-called.html' title=''/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-8900715338492347719</id><published>2007-10-05T23:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-05T23:55:23.358-04:00</updated><title type='text'>wake up call</title><content type='html'>I had every intention to update and keep a track of my life for the past few weeks but different circumstances didn't allow me to and now I don't even remember what I wanted to finish saying in the last post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the last month has definitely been a fun one. Meeting so many people, getting closer to so many people. Joining all this stuff, actually getting things done. Sleeping in, staying up - all that jazz. I think I've done enough partying for the month's worth and I can't afford to spend anymore money or time recooperating. I just wanna chill, think, work hard...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past couple days is so discombobulating for me. What happened last night, I probably just took it too personally 'cause I know I'm better than that but it made me really miss everything that used to be in the last year - my church, my school, my family, etc. I had an hour long conversation with my sister that made me feel so much better and then I slept it off....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad today, the biggest mishap took place. My wallet's lost/stolen... My pictures, my cards and everything... sigh the hassle I have to go through... :S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow's going to be a busy day for me... I have to get all my cards back, my legs waxed, buy a dress... see people. SIGH*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note... I really need prayers for my grampa... he's back in the hospital again... it's a scary thought to know how fast his body is deteriorating... I wish I spent more time with him when I could have...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praying for PCA... it's heartbreaking to know the condition it's in right now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-8900715338492347719?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8900715338492347719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/8900715338492347719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/10/wake-up-call.html' title='wake up call'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8187965.post-7332412604244355283</id><published>2007-09-11T11:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T11:54:01.356-04:00</updated><title type='text'>frosh</title><content type='html'>The first day started out as my anxious family and self ventured into what I would call my home for the next four years. My parents did everything for me, really. The necessities, the worries, the happies - they did it for me. I was kinda indifferent to the reality of it all. The first two nights I thought were rather awkward. Jo and I just essentially had each other. We were like the package deal of small Asian girls in a huge group of Caucasians who are visibly larger than us. All the awkwardly forced conversations took place the first couple days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued... (I have to go to  class now)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8187965-7332412604244355283?l=rahella.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7332412604244355283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8187965/posts/default/7332412604244355283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rahella.blogspot.com/2007/09/frosh.html' title='frosh'/><author><name>rahella</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='14' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Mp0IYNUV4UU/ShYsCRXJI7I/AAAAAAAAAHw/2A3JWh6yRsY/S220/0515095+-+Copy+-+Copy.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
