<?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-7687419</id><updated>2012-02-17T03:27:23.455+08:00</updated><category term='arts'/><title type='text'>Itsie Bitsie</title><subtitle type='html'>A Demented Princess. A Desolate Angel.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-7040096359110391892</id><published>2007-07-20T13:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T14:17:29.165+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Try try try</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_01.swf"&gt;01&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_02.swf"&gt;02&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_03.swf"&gt;03&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_04.swf"&gt;04&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_05.swf"&gt;05&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_06.swf"&gt;06&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_07.swf"&gt;07&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_08.swf"&gt;08&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_09.swf"&gt;09&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_10.swf"&gt;10&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_11.swf"&gt;11&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_12.swf"&gt;12&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_13.swf"&gt;13&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_14.swf"&gt;14&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_15.swf"&gt;15&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_16.swf"&gt;16&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_17.swf"&gt;17&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_18.swf"&gt;18&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_19.swf"&gt;19&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_20.swf"&gt;20&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_21.swf"&gt;21&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_22.swf"&gt;22&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_23.swf"&gt;23&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_24.swf"&gt;24&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_25.swf"&gt;25&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_26.swf"&gt;26&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_27.swf"&gt;27&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_28.swf"&gt;28&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_29.swf"&gt;29&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_30.swf"&gt;30&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_31.swf"&gt;31&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_32.swf"&gt;32&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://users.cyberone.com.au/mackiewa/BootyCall/Booty_Call_33.swf"&gt;33&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-7040096359110391892?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/7040096359110391892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=7040096359110391892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/7040096359110391892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/7040096359110391892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2007/07/try-try-try.html' title='Try try try'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-2748548156295793374</id><published>2007-03-12T16:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T17:00:01.988+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lohan Hair</title><content type='html'>When it comes to haircolors, Lindsay Lohan is definitely the goddess. She has probably tried every hair color there is. I think all of these colors suit her. But my absolute favorite is her jet black hair. Dark colors make her look more sophisticated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/168/416243461_8a73cb7e9a_o.jpg"/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-2748548156295793374?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/2748548156295793374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=2748548156295793374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/2748548156295793374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/2748548156295793374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2007/03/lohan-hair_12.html' title='The Lohan Hair'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-5437974524573691304</id><published>2007-02-27T16:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T16:20:58.859+08:00</updated><title type='text'>On Sexual Harassment...</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dear _____:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am filing a formal sexual harassment complaint against _____.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a very considerable period of time now, I have fallen prey to his unceasing indecent and sexually violating remarks that I have been miserably tolerating in the vague hopes that he will stop doing not only a very unprofessional characteristic but also a very demeaning and sexually harassing behavior.  He has been incessantly trying to acquire my mobile phone number that I constantly refuse him and made very clear of my having no intention of giving him now, or even in the future.  In addition to this, he keeps on asking me out on a date in a very irritating and unpleasant manner.  But what really enrages me is the way he blurts out his lewd, shrewd, and ill-bred oral remarks, which are very sexually harassing in nature.  I have already reached the limits of my patience and decided to escalate this very serious matter to a formal complaint.  It is very hard to be efficient, and or lest even maintain a good and professional working relationship with this kind of person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you take action in this very urgent matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, and I’ll be expecting to hear from you soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Moi&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;This was my letter indeed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOBODY has the right to treat any woman unrightfully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all the women, if you feel that you are violated in anyway, SPEAK UP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fight for your rights!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-5437974524573691304?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/5437974524573691304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=5437974524573691304' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/5437974524573691304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/5437974524573691304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2007/02/on-sexual-harassment.html' title='On Sexual Harassment...'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-5983685491828750030</id><published>2007-02-27T15:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T16:00:08.001+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweetest</title><content type='html'>I'm blogging about my valentine's date though it's been two weeks since I met up with my very dear friend, Alvin. It wasn't really a date and let me just make this clear: our relationship is very platonic and there's no way in the world we'll ever be romantically linked to each other. But here's the sweet part, it's the best valentine's day I have ever had so far in the history of mankind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alvin is working in china with Bert. So before Alvin went home that week, Bert emailed me saying that Alvin will be arriving just in time for the valentine's day and so just in case I don't have a date, he'll be my back up. They're both very good friends of mine and it's always a joy seeing them because Alvin really cracks me up. And Bert, well, he always surprises me with his weird antics. That week, Bert will be in Malaysia so he can't come home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Alvin and I met up.  He gave me his&lt;i&gt; pasalubongs&lt;/i&gt;. Yes, &lt;i&gt;pasalubongs&lt;/i&gt;! He gave me Gucci rush perfume and a big big box of Cadbury's. &lt;i&gt;Yun palang, ok na&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were suppose to eat at Bellini's but since it was Valentine's day and we have no reservations, the place was crowded; and so we ended up at Italianni's. Italian&lt;i&gt; pa rin&lt;/i&gt;! My favorite food. Then we had coffee at Figaro, my choice &lt;i&gt;pa rin&lt;/i&gt;. But I guess, the most important thing that night was our conversation. Our best conversation ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really feeling so special that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that with or without a boyfriend, I'm fine. I feel blessed having such wonderful friend who loves me genuinely, who gives so much without asking for anything in return, and who will always stay in my life forever no matter what. And that's the sweetest! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-5983685491828750030?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/5983685491828750030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=5983685491828750030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/5983685491828750030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/5983685491828750030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2007/02/sweetest.html' title='Sweetest'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-3166192913712207031</id><published>2007-02-06T11:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T11:57:23.223+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Lips Of An Angel"</title><content type='html'>Bakit kaya I can relate to this song? Sobra! Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;Honey why you calling me so late?&lt;br /&gt;It's kinda hard to talk right now.&lt;br /&gt;Honey why are you crying? Is everything okay?&lt;br /&gt;I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my girl's in the next room&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish she was you&lt;br /&gt;I guess we never really moved on&lt;br /&gt;It's really good to hear your voice say my name&lt;br /&gt;It sounds so sweet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming from the lips of an angel&lt;br /&gt;Hearing those words it makes me weak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I never wanna say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;But girl you make it hard to be faithful&lt;br /&gt;With the lips of an angel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny that you're calling me tonight&lt;br /&gt;And, yes, I've dreamt of you too&lt;br /&gt;And does he know you're talking to me&lt;br /&gt;Will it start a fight&lt;br /&gt;No I don't think she has a clue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well my girl's in the next room&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish she was you&lt;br /&gt;I guess we never really moved on&lt;br /&gt;It's really good to hear your voice say my name&lt;br /&gt;It sounds so sweet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming from the lips of an angel&lt;br /&gt;Hearing those words it makes me weak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I never wanna say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;But girl you make it hard to be faithful&lt;br /&gt;With the lips of an angel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really good to hear your voice say my name&lt;br /&gt;It sounds so sweet&lt;br /&gt;Coming from the lips of an angel&lt;br /&gt;Hearing those words it makes me weak&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I never wanna say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;But girl you make it hard to be faithful&lt;br /&gt;With the lips of an angel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I never wanna say goodbye&lt;br /&gt;But girl you make it hard to be faithful&lt;br /&gt;With the lips of an angel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honey why you calling me so late?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabi nga sa Grey's Anatomy (I just rephrased it):&lt;br /&gt;"I want to forget you, I want to escape you but, you know, I can't."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-3166192913712207031?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/3166192913712207031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=3166192913712207031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/3166192913712207031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/3166192913712207031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2007/02/lips-of-angel.html' title='&quot;Lips Of An Angel&quot;'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-1767592017022101911</id><published>2007-01-09T15:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T15:12:22.743+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Target: 50 Books</title><content type='html'>I was looking at the list of books I read in 2005 and 2006 and, boy, I was surprised I could count them in just one hand. Well, actually, I have already started reading some books but I was just able to finish 5 in 2005 and 5 in 2006.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;2005&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;The Unbearable Lightness&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt; of Being&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Milan Kundera&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Lolita&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Vladimir Nabokov&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Waiting&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Ha Jin&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Rage of Angels&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Sidney Sheldon&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Identity&lt;/strong&gt; by&lt;i&gt; Milan Kundera&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My note: Most of these books in 2005 are the best (ever!)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;2006&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Angels and Demons&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Dan Brown&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Sands of Time&lt;/strong&gt; by&lt;i&gt; Sidney Sheldon&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Master of the Game&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Sidney Sheldon&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;The Other side of Midnight&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Sidney&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; Sheldon&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Shopaholic Ties the Knot&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Sophie Kinsella&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;i&gt;yes! I'm a huge fan of Sheldon&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am currently (or at least have started) reading the following:&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Bergdorf Blondes&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Plum Sykes&lt;/i&gt; (Hilarious!)&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Love in the time of Cholera&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Gabriel Garcia Marquez&lt;/i&gt; (Quite dragging, but I'm sure the reading experience is all worth it. Just like &lt;i&gt;Lolita&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;The Fountainhead&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Ayn Rand&lt;/i&gt; (Really thick book. At least 700 pages. And very tiny font. But will finish this. Seriously!)&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;Eats, Shoots and Leaves&lt;/strong&gt; by &lt;i&gt;Lynn Truss&lt;/i&gt; (For sticklers like me. Nice Brit humor)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really need to read more books! And I really really need to finish reading those 4 listed above. I promised myself to read at least 1 book a week. I was so inspired by the blogger known as "&lt;a href="http://50books.blogspot.com/"&gt;Doppelganger&lt;/a&gt;" and Ms. &lt;a href="http://jessicarulestheuniverse.com/"&gt;Jessica Zafra&lt;/a&gt;'s habit of reading 50 books a year. So I need to add 46 more books to the list above. And finish reading them all. Seriously! I mean it, seriously!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-1767592017022101911?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/1767592017022101911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=1767592017022101911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/1767592017022101911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/1767592017022101911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2007/01/target-50-books.html' title='Target: 50 Books'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-4219053092005364628</id><published>2007-01-08T17:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T17:24:57.390+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Third Tattoo</title><content type='html'>I got a new tat last January 3. I was ecstatic. I've always wanted to get a tattoo on my nape and finally when I found the right design, I quickly contacted my tattoo artist friend, Juan Lou, and asked him to ink the design on my skin...permanently!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the least painful tattoo experience of the three. It took 1 hour for us to finish the design and only 15 minutes for him to tattoo it on my skin. I was impressed, I must say. He did a similar design as Nicole's (Richie), where I got the inspiration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a certain liberating feeling it gives me everytime I get a tattoo. No wonder Angelina Jolie is addicted to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/IMG_1363xx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/IMG_1363xx.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/7687419-4219053092005364628?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/4219053092005364628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=4219053092005364628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/4219053092005364628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/4219053092005364628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-third-tattoo.html' title='My Third Tattoo'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-6617988323229824493</id><published>2006-12-21T13:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T13:44:41.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Great lessons I learned this year.</title><content type='html'>5. &lt;strong&gt;Your beauty is going to go. Concentrate on your brains&lt;/strong&gt; - &lt;em&gt;Maria Shriver's mom&lt;/em&gt;. Although I'm never going to neglect taking care of myself and striving hard to make myself to look very pleasing everyday, that quote has somehow changed how I would want to become when I grow old. I think in my old age, I wouldn't want my face to be stretched and everything in my body lifted. I would want to have gained wisdom and knowledge that even old age could never take away from me. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;Accept loss forever&lt;/strong&gt; - &lt;em&gt;Jack Kerouac&lt;/em&gt;. There are lots of things I lost this year.  But after losing a dear coworker last November, I have learned to accept that there are things (and people) that you just have to let go. And just accept the bitter fact that they're never coming back. It will defintely help you move on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;It's &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; better to give than to receive &lt;/strong&gt;(rephrased by me). And I really need to put "always" in that sentence. It gives me great joy to just give. If only everyone could be selfless and just give, I think they would really find great joy too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;Always trust your instincts&lt;/strong&gt;. It will save you from a lot of heartaches. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;Just love&lt;/strong&gt;. Without asking for anything in return. I once read from a Sheldon novel (The Other Side of Midnight, I think) that more crimes are committed in the name of love than in the name of hate. I say, it's not love. When you love, you let go, you just give, you don't ask for anything in return. You just love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-6617988323229824493?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/6617988323229824493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=6617988323229824493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/6617988323229824493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/6617988323229824493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2006/12/5-great-lessons-i-learned-this-year.html' title='5 Great lessons I learned this year.'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-4910192743381835301</id><published>2006-12-19T12:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T12:14:33.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eyelash Extensions... To get or not to get?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;This should have been posted two weeks ago, but there's some error I'm encountering. So, anyways...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been wanting to get eye lash extensions eversince I read &lt;a href="http://www.shopcrazy.com.ph/2006/09/14/lash-extensions/"&gt;this article&lt;/a&gt;  from &lt;a href="http://www.shopcrazy.com.ph"&gt;Shopcrazy&lt;/a&gt;. I've been weighing the pros and cons..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why I should get eye lash extensions?&lt;br /&gt;- My eyes will look bigger (I have "half chinese eyes", by the way)&lt;br /&gt;- No need for eyelash curler and mascara&lt;br /&gt;- There'll be lots of important events this month (including my birthday =))&lt;br /&gt;- Just look at this before and after pics from &lt;a href="http://www.novalash.com"&gt;Novalash&lt;/a&gt; and see the difference extensions make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/anaeli-novalash2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/anaeli-novalash2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/anaeli-novalash.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/anaeli-novalash.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/the20lash20co-before.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/the20lash20co-before.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/the20lash20co-after.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/the20lash20co-after.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why I shouldn't get eye lash extensions?&lt;br /&gt;- It will only last for about 3 weeks&lt;br /&gt;- I have this tendency to scratch my eyes all the time&lt;br /&gt;- I'm scared that my real lashes will fall off with the extensions&lt;br /&gt;- It wouldn't match my daylook since I'm not used to wearing too much make-up during daytime. In other words, I might look ridiculous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I haven't decided yet. Have to think hard before I throw away 500 pesos on something I just might regret in the end. Oh well..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-4910192743381835301?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/4910192743381835301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=4910192743381835301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/4910192743381835301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/4910192743381835301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2006/12/eyelash-extensions-to-get-or-not-to-get.html' title='Eyelash Extensions... To get or not to get?'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-1232130510500029102</id><published>2006-11-28T19:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T12:19:38.298+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just some blah blah</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Wanna see the Cascades concert?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell, yeah! I'm a very big fan!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Alrighty, I'll get us tickets.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Gin Blossoms!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How'd ya know this is what I want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You always give me what I want. In everything. Even in bed. I'm serious. Why are you so perfect?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;For what?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For everything I've wanted for us but couldn't bring myself to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm not dating anyone. I don't wanna date anyone.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm afraid they'd all fall short of you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You really think that highly of me? I'm not perfect, you know..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You are&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you promise to stay in my life forever, no matter what happens?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I think we'll forever be in each other's lives.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-1232130510500029102?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/1232130510500029102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=1232130510500029102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/1232130510500029102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/1232130510500029102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2006/11/just-some-blah-blah.html' title='Just some blah blah'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-3597286550033783804</id><published>2006-11-27T12:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T13:01:37.536+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogthings</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEE9E9" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Are A Total Shopaholic!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFAFA"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.yournewromance.com/areyouashopaholicquiz/shopaholic.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have a keen eye for spotting trends before they are hot&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes your credit rating takes a beating as a result&lt;br /&gt;Consider a job in retail to subsidize your gorgeous outfits&lt;br /&gt;Over time, you could become a famous stylist or designer!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://ynr.blogthings.com/areyouashopaholicquiz/"&gt;Are You a Shopaholic?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You Belong in Paris&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.yournewromance.com/whatcitydoyoubelonginquiz/paris.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stylish and a little sassy, you were meant for Paris.&lt;br /&gt;The art, the fashion, the wine, the men!&lt;br /&gt;Whether you're enjoying the cafe life or a beautiful park...&lt;br /&gt;You'll love living in the most chic place on earth.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://ynr.blogthings.com/whatcitydoyoubelonginquiz/"&gt;What City Do You Belong In?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEE9E9" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;You are a Brainy Girl!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFAFA"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.yournewromance.com/whatkindofgirlareyouquiz/brainy-girl.gif" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether you're an official student or a casual learner, you enjoy hitting the books.&lt;br /&gt;You know a little bit about everything, and you're always dying to know more.&lt;br /&gt;For a guy to win your heart, he's got to share some of your intellectual interests.&lt;br /&gt;An awesome book collection of his own doesn't hurt either!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://ynr.blogthings.com/whatkindofgirlareyouquiz/"&gt;What Kind of Girl Are You?&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/7687419-3597286550033783804?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/3597286550033783804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=3597286550033783804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/3597286550033783804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/3597286550033783804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2006/11/blogthings.html' title='Blogthings'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-7140858717920995759</id><published>2006-11-24T16:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-24T16:22:52.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Before they were stars...</title><content type='html'>Got these really interesting transformations from celeb sites that I visit. I was so surprised to see &lt;strong&gt;Victoria Beckham&lt;/strong&gt; a.k.a. Posh Spice looking like that. My reaction was ....Eeeeekkk!! Ugly!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/victoriabeckham_123b.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was not really ugly. But I'm looking at one of the most admired fashion icons of today. So my reaction is quite acceptable. And besides, she's not &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; beautiful to begin with. I think she just knows how to carry herself in an elegant and classy kind of way. And she has done a lot (I mean &lt;em&gt;a lot&lt;/em&gt;!) on her face to improve her looks. AND...her husband (David Beckham) is soooo yummy! I also think she's just overrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src ="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/katemoss-star95.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kate Moss&lt;/strong&gt;. Love her style! One fashion blogger said she's two seasons ahead of the other fashionistas. But this picture...oh man! Gives me hope. It's the reality that supermodels are not really born with it. They pay a lot of people to make them look gorgeous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/compare21ib1.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, when I saw &lt;strong&gt;Angelina Jolie's&lt;/strong&gt; picture. Omigod! She's really gorgeous. She doesn't need to pay anyone to make her look beautiful. She was born with it. As what &lt;a href="http://www.stylecritics.com/"&gt;Mean critic&lt;/a&gt; said, she's the only one who appeals to all gender. I remember telling my friend, "Only Angelina would make me want to be a Lesbian" Hahaha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-7140858717920995759?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/7140858717920995759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=7140858717920995759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/7140858717920995759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/7140858717920995759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2006/11/before-they-were-stars.html' title='Before they were stars...'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-7378462663344695135</id><published>2006-11-23T12:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T13:00:28.870+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so loving Eric Gamalinda</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Letters to Theo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another day &lt;br /&gt;I found a bird's nest &lt;br /&gt;and brought it back to my studio. &lt;br /&gt;For days it sat at my window, &lt;br /&gt;and the sun and the wind &lt;br /&gt;nourished it as though &lt;br /&gt;the nest itself were still capable &lt;br /&gt;of nourishing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later it began to unravel, &lt;br /&gt;the twig frame coming apart &lt;br /&gt;to reveal hidden fiber, &lt;br /&gt;a bed of leaves, the patterns &lt;br /&gt;of weaving. The more I tried to fix it &lt;br /&gt;the more it fell apart, &lt;br /&gt;and so I left it alone to fulfill &lt;br /&gt;its inevitable decay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the questions one would expect &lt;br /&gt;from this experience came to mind: &lt;br /&gt;Who had lived there? &lt;br /&gt;Do their memories contain &lt;br /&gt;lost sunlight, and this softness? &lt;br /&gt;Do they leave to let things &lt;br /&gt;fall apart? And how can I save them, &lt;br /&gt;when they never come back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Source: &lt;a href="http://mysite.verizon.net/vzeslrlq/gamalinda/id27.html"&gt;Zero Gravity&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-7378462663344695135?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/7378462663344695135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=7378462663344695135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/7378462663344695135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/7378462663344695135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2006/11/im-so-loving-eric-gamalinda.html' title='I&apos;m so loving Eric Gamalinda'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-7810789649908136739</id><published>2006-11-23T12:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-24T11:18:02.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just fucked up. Awww...shit!</title><content type='html'>I wanna get so tired. So physically tired that my body aches from head to toe.  So tired that I would feel nothing else but exhaustion. Physical exhaustion would numb me from all my emotional pain.. It would keep my mind from thinking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I once read, it's the thinking that brings the suffering. It's the thinking over and over again that causes mental torment. But how can I stop thinking when &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; is all I can do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;You know what hurts the most?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When you can't fight for the one thing that would make you happy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-7810789649908136739?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/7810789649908136739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=7810789649908136739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/7810789649908136739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/7810789649908136739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2006/11/just-fucked-up-awwwshit.html' title='Just fucked up. Awww...shit!'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-5057263853527535494</id><published>2006-11-08T10:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T10:04:47.504+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Six Words</title><content type='html'>Inspired by Hemingway's heart wrenching six-word short story ("For sale: baby shoes, never worn."), &lt;strong&gt;Wired&lt;/strong&gt; Magazine asked writers/novelists/editors to write a &lt;a href="http://wired.com/wired/archive/14.11/sixwords.html"&gt;six-word very short story&lt;/a&gt;. Here are some of my favorites:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Longed for him. Got him. Shit.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Margaret Atwood&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tick tock tick tock tick tick.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Neal Stephenson&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three to Iraq. One came back.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Graeme Gibson&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw, darling, but do lie.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Orson Scott Card&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve ignores editor's word limit and&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;em&gt;Steven Meretzky&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's mine:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Drained. Destroyed. Dead. All hope's gone.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-5057263853527535494?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/5057263853527535494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=5057263853527535494' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/5057263853527535494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/5057263853527535494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2006/11/six-words.html' title='Six Words'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-116046174304897785</id><published>2006-10-10T14:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T14:29:03.056+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a Zen Shopper! Yey!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;You're a Zen Shopper!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did someone say retail therapy? For a seasoned and soulful shopper like you, the mall is more than just the place you go when you need a new pair of shoes or a birthday present for your best friend. It's your sanctuary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For you, shopping is a relaxing retreat that takes your mind off the stresses of the day and lets you unwind. Browsing the new arrivals, checking out the sales, catching a movie, or enjoying a snack in the food court makes a trip to the mall more of a journey than a destination. And finding a great new purchase or two? That's the icing on an already delicious cake. Just say, om!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Got this result from Emode.com. I think it was &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;What kind of shopper are you?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; quiz.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Isn't that amazing? I find my solace at the mall. I think living there would truly be a blissful experience. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-116046174304897785?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/116046174304897785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=116046174304897785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/116046174304897785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/116046174304897785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2006/10/im-zen-shopper-yey.html' title='I&apos;m a Zen Shopper! Yey!!!'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-115933516519755111</id><published>2006-09-27T12:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T16:59:03.756+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Crazy Night</title><content type='html'>Last Saturday night, we're feeling weird and crazy. Maybe it was our frustration to go swimming at the Edsa Shangri-la hotel (Or maybe something else). My bestfriend's mom forgot to give us the vouchers so we could avail of the "free swim" at the hotel. Although we have the membership card, they can't let us in. F*ckin shit! We were so excited and ready to swim! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can't let that ruin our night. So we've got to do something! The funny thing was... we have turned that night into one of the craziest nights we had in a loooong time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we learned that the membership card we had with us won't let us in for a swim at the Shang (unless we're checked-in, of course), we had dinner at Cyma. I was inspired by &lt;a href="http://anton.blogs.com"&gt;Anton&lt;/a&gt; for taking pictures of every food he eats. I did my own pics too so I could remember how yummy the food looked and so I could remember what it tastes like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/118/251936575_ec9a9bd3fa.jpg?v=0/" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicken Kebabs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/108/251936580_b65955494a.jpg?v=0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greek Osso bucco (with pasta)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food were sooo good as they look good in the photos.&lt;br /&gt;Note: These were taken before we went crazy and go bugging everyone.&lt;br /&gt;Also, I just wanna post some pictures and I'm not reviewing their food whatsoever! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Details? Alright! So after being rejected by the Shang, our mission is to find a hotel that would let us use their swimming pool and would only charge us a relatively small amount. But since it was already late (around 9 p.m.), they are already closed. Our frustration increases double by the minute! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, our new target is the SPA! Ooohh, yes! The spa! Since we realized that we are not going to swim that night, then we better get body scrubs and massages! So we inquired (take note: we only INQUIRED!) at so many spas that I never realized Ortigas has so many of. We took pictures of almost every spa we went in to. As if the spas in Ortigas weren't enough, we went to QC (Timog-Tomas Morato Area) to look for spas. Still, we can't find the right spa. Either the services are too pricey or the spa is closing in about 30 mins or there are too many clients or the ambiance wasn't so good for our taste. At about 11:30p.m., we got so tired of walking around and taking pictures of everything we see. The last spa stop was near UCC Cafe so we just went in there without thinking of what we are going to do next. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were seated at the cafe, we just realized how crazy we are, taking pictures, that the person-in-charge would tell us to stop and we would be making crazy excuses like, "Oh, this is the best restroom we've seen that's why we're taking pictures of it." And then the weird look on their faces. Priceless! Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We looked at the pictures and saw how funny they are. So we just laughed the whole night that my stomach hurt so bad. I was also happy to drink one of the best drinks I've ever tasted, Yin yan cha (Coffee milk tea). At first I thought it was a weird combination but when I got to taste it, it's the best! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conclusion: The night... was bittersweet. For some reasons, we were both feeling sad and low. And we ended cheering each other up. I guess, that's what best friends are for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-115933516519755111?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/115933516519755111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=115933516519755111' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/115933516519755111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/115933516519755111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2006/09/one-crazy-night.html' title='One Crazy Night'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-115694544052064397</id><published>2006-08-30T21:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T09:18:50.379+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Broken Road</title><content type='html'>This song is for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rascal Flatts - Bless The Broken Road&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I set out on a narrow way many years ago&lt;br /&gt;Hoping I would find true love along the broken road&lt;br /&gt;But I got lost a time or two&lt;br /&gt;Wiped my brow and kept pushing through&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Every long lost dream lead me to where you are&lt;br /&gt;Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars&lt;br /&gt;Pointing me on my way into your loving arms&lt;br /&gt;This much I know is true&lt;br /&gt;That God blessed the broken road&lt;br /&gt;That led me straight to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think about the years I spent just passing through&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you&lt;br /&gt;But you just smile and take my hand&lt;br /&gt;You've been there you understand&lt;br /&gt;It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every long lost dream lead me to where you are&lt;br /&gt;Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars&lt;br /&gt;Pointing me on my way into your loving arms&lt;br /&gt;This much I know is true&lt;br /&gt;That God blessed the broken road&lt;br /&gt;That led me straight to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-115694544052064397?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/115694544052064397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=115694544052064397' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/115694544052064397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/115694544052064397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2006/08/broken-road.html' title='The Broken Road'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-112770888539355701</id><published>2005-09-26T12:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T12:28:05.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Type of Drink are You?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.liquidgeneration.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.liquidgeneration.com/quiz/images/wine.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-112770888539355701?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/112770888539355701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=112770888539355701' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/112770888539355701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/112770888539355701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2005/09/what-type-of-drink-are-you.html' title='What Type of Drink are You?'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-110957084654663083</id><published>2005-02-28T14:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-28T14:12:19.686+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moon River</title><content type='html'>I have loved the song &lt;strong&gt;Moon River&lt;/strong&gt; even before I saw the movie &lt;em&gt;Breakfast at Tiffany's&lt;/em&gt;. My dad used to listen to those classics when I was young. It was funny because when I was in grade school, my classmates would ask me for the lyrics of the song and they would even ask me to teach them how to sing it. And I know that by heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In SATC Episode 66 I Heart NY, they played Moon River at the end of the show. This episode, I believe, was dedicated to the 9/11 victims. I remember that last scene when Carrie was walking along Fifth Avenue passing by Tiffany's while this song was playing in the background. That was beautiful. Just like Audrey's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music artists love to have their own version of this song. Louis Armstong, Frank Sinatra, Barbra Streisand, Sarah Brightman, Andy Williams, Ray Charles and all the others. And recently, one of my favorite American Idol 4 finalists, Anwar Robinson, also did a very good rendition of the song.(http://www.americanidol5.com/audio/seasonfour/top24/Anwar Robinson - Moon River.mp3)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my ultimate favorite is definitely the original... Henry Mancini's version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Moon River, wider than a mile, &lt;br /&gt;I'm crossing you in style some day. &lt;br /&gt;Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker, &lt;br /&gt;wherever you're going I'm going your way. &lt;br /&gt;Two drifters off to see the world. &lt;br /&gt;There's such a lot of world to see. &lt;br /&gt;We're after the same rainbow's end-- &lt;br /&gt;waiting 'round the bend, &lt;br /&gt;my huckleberry friend, &lt;br /&gt;Moon River and me.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having said all that, I want this song to be played in all the special occasions in my life. Even to my death. Hehehe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-110957084654663083?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/110957084654663083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=110957084654663083' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110957084654663083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110957084654663083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2005/02/moon-river.html' title='Moon River'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-110854272669745359</id><published>2005-02-16T11:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T12:20:21.078+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='arts'/><title type='text'>My Mini Art Gallery</title><content type='html'>I have this fascination with paintings eversince I was little. Believe it or not, when everyone my age dreams to become a doctor someday, I dream to become a painter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandfather discouraged me to pursue this career so I did not bother to cultivate whatever skills I have in painting anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dream has vanished but my love for the arts will stay with me forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is an attempt to make my mini (blog) gallery to honor the painters that I admire together with their famous works that I truly adore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://windyweb.com/gallery/Bars/Metalic/silver.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My most favorite painter is &lt;strong&gt;Vincent Van Gogh&lt;/strong&gt;. A brilliant painter, yet insane. He tried to burn his hand, he mutilated the lower portion of his left ear, he tried to ingest his own paints. Van Gogh did not sell a single painting in his lifetime. But today, his works are among the most beautiful arts in history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"As for me, I am rather often uneasy in my mind, because I think that my life has not been calm enough; all those bitter disappointments, adversities, changes keep me from developing fully and naturally in my artistic career." -Vincent Van Gogh&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="350" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/Starrynight.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Starry Night&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saint-Rémy: June, 1889&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/cafeterrace.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Cafe Terrace on the Place du Forum, Arles, at Night&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Arles: September 1888&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://windyweb.com/gallery/Bars/Metalic/silver.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Edvard Munch&lt;/strong&gt;, a Norweigian painter. Known as the father of Expressionism. &lt;em&gt;The purpose of Expressionism is to show emotions that the artist feels in hopes that the viewer will be stirred and feel them as well.&lt;/em&gt; -&lt;a href="http://www.edvardmunch.info/biography.asp"&gt;EdvardMunch.info&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His paintings depict misery, sickness, fear and death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"We want more than a mere photograph of nature. We do not want to paint pretty pictures to be hung on drawing-room walls. We want to create, or at least lay the foundations of, an art that gives something to humanity. An art that arrests and engages. An art created of one's innermost heart." -Edvard Munch&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.edvard-munch.com/Paintings/anxiety/scream_3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Scream (or The Cry)&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;1893&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://windyweb.com/gallery/Bars/Metalic/silver.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Claude Monet&lt;/strong&gt;, a French painter. Although &lt;a href="http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/manet/"&gt;Edouard Manet&lt;/a&gt; is said to be the father of Impressionism, it was Monet who gave birth to the style. &lt;em&gt;The term Impressionism was derived from his picture Impression: Sunrise. A title was needed in a hurry for the catalogue of the exhibition in 1874. Monet suggested simply Impression, and the catalogue editor, Edouard, added an explanatory Sunrise. The artist was not to know that because of criticism which seized upon the first word he had given the entire movement its name.&lt;/em&gt;- &lt;a href="http://www.expo-monet.com/"&gt;Expo-Monet.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"His scenes shimmer, like memories. They are single, fleeting moments, reminders of life's beauty and transience." -John Berger about Monet&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="350" src="http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y20/ItsieBitsie/sunrise-monet.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Impression, Sunrise (or Impression, soleil levant)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; 1873&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://windyweb.com/gallery/Bars/Metalic/silver.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pablo Picasso&lt;/strong&gt;, a Spanish painter and sculptor. His unending evolution in style throughout his entire career made him one of the greatest artists in the 20th century. His early works were the Catalan "modernisme" then followed by the Blue Period. He then embarked on what is known as the Rose Period. His love for primitive art opened the doors for Cubism. He first started with Analytical Cubism or the abstract. Then his style later evolved to Synthetic Cubism, the modern style (or semi-abstract). After the first world war, his style reverted to a Classicist mode of representation. At the twilight of his career, two decades after the second world war, he has produced a lot of work experimenting different styles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;"It takes a long time to become young." -Pablo Picasso&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://a1259.g.akamai.net/f/1259/5586/1d/images.art.com/images/PRODUCTS/large/10090000/10090421.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Aficionado&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; 1912&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://windyweb.com/gallery/Bars/Metalic/silver.gif" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Leonardo da Vinci&lt;/strong&gt;, an Italian painter. His works are few of the most recognized paintings around the globe. One of these is the Mona Lisa, the most famous piece of art in the world. He used the &lt;em&gt;sfumato&lt;/em&gt; technique where the details in the background disappears in the misty atmosphere, as people describe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Mona Lisa painting is famous for her enigmatic smile. &lt;em&gt;The Da Vinci Code&lt;/em&gt; by Dan Brown, though fiction, has revealed the secret for this. But this I leave for the reader to discover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Iron rusts from disuse; stagnant water loses its purity and in cold weather becomes frozen; even so does inaction sap the vigor of the mind." -Leonardo da Vinci&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="440" src="http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/vinci/joconde/joconde.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mona Lisa (or La Jaconde)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; (1503-06)&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-110854272669745359?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/110854272669745359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=110854272669745359' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110854272669745359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110854272669745359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2005/02/my-mini-art-gallery.html' title='My Mini Art Gallery'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-110601247108015822</id><published>2005-01-18T09:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-18T09:41:11.080+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dead Stars</title><content type='html'>by Paz Marquez Benitez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's one of my favorite short stories in Philippine Literature. Click &lt;a href="http://www.sushidog.com/bpss/stories/stars.htm"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for the complete story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my favorite lines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"Mystery--" she answered lightly, "that is so brief--"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not in some," quickly. "Not in you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You have known me a few weeks; so the mystery."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I could study you all my life and still not find it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So long?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I should like to."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally... The last part, also my favorite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;The young moon had set, and from the uninviting cot he could see one half of a star-studded sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why had he obstinately clung to that dream?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all these years--since when?--he had been seeing the light of dead stars, long extinguished, yet seemingly still in their appointed places in the heavens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An immense sadness as of loss invaded his spirit, a vast homesickness for some immutable refuge of the heart far away where faded gardens bloom again, and where live on in unchanging freshness, the dear, dead loves of vanished youth.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-110601247108015822?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/110601247108015822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=110601247108015822' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110601247108015822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110601247108015822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2005/01/dead-stars.html' title='Dead Stars'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-110508704035809150</id><published>2005-01-07T16:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-07T16:45:43.350+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If I'm Not Vain</title><content type='html'>If I'm not vain, I would have saved a lot of money by now. Moisturizers, toners, cleansers, bath gel, bath salt, body lotions (I have 7 different brands right now), body scrub, eye cream, face creams, sunblock, foundations (liquid, panstick, powder), eyeshadow (different colors), eye liner, mascara (lengthening, thickening, waterproof), cheek blush (cream, powder, tint, gel -- every single blush that comes out), lipsticks, lipgloss/lacquer, lip tint, lip balm, concealer, perfume, foot scrub, pumice stone, foot lotion, nail polish, haircuts (Propaganda or Basement Salon), hair treatments, massages, body peeling, eyelash perming, hair products (PhytoSpecific, Kerastase, etc). Whew! And oh.. I forgot to mention my regular visits to my dermatologist, plus the products I get from her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm not vain, I could save a lot of money in the future. Diamond peel or maybe microdermabrasion, laser hair removal, liposuction, lipodissolve, breast augmentation, butt injections, regular skin care treatments, Obagi system, and more make-up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But who cares about saving money?*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so vain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's me. Vanity is my favorite sin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Selfish mode switch is on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-110508704035809150?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/110508704035809150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=110508704035809150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110508704035809150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110508704035809150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2005/01/if-im-not-vain.html' title='If I&apos;m Not Vain'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-110292490560908374</id><published>2004-12-13T16:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-13T16:01:45.610+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wiser? or just Older?</title><content type='html'>I turn 23 today. Darn I'm old! I don't really want to leave age 22. Its one of my favorite numbers and it has been a perfect year for me, well... almost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard somewhere that you should choose your favorite age and you could just stay in that age forever, I believe this is from Sex and the City, again. (What can I say... the show has greatly influenced my life.)  So when people ask me how old I am today, I would say, "Today, I'm celebrating my 22nd birthday Part 2". And so next year will be the 3rd part of my 22nd birthday celebration, and so on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The message that the priest gave us, before he prayed for my grandmother, was about letting go. He gave an analogy about women being afraid to get old and clinging to their youth that's why they're never happy. They risk going under the knife and availing whatever treatments they can afford just to preserve themselves. (As if someone told them they're already nearing extinction.) Of course the message was for us to grieve then learn to let go and move on. The life clock continues to tick, and therefore life must go on. The secret to life's happiness, as what I've understood from that simple analogy, is learning to leave the past behind and embracing the future. And same thing goes for a woman and her beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not afraid of getting wrinkles, varicose veins, and all those other signs of aging... yet. Hopefully, when the time comes that I have to worry about them, I could already afford those cosmetic procedures. Haha! Right now, its scarier to think that I'm a year older and yet still the same person I was a year ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year, I promised myself to try everything, well at least once, and to do just whatever I want to do. Just go for whatever I feel like doing at that moment. I will only live once. And so, I told myself, that later in life I won't have any regrets. This year I did a lot of things I've never done before and....I've never been happier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this is another key to happiness...seize the day and cherish every moment of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm wiser, after all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah right.... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-110292490560908374?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/110292490560908374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=110292490560908374' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110292490560908374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110292490560908374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/12/wiser-or-just-older.html' title='Wiser? or just Older?'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-110129161464768702</id><published>2004-11-24T18:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T09:30:05.041+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Faking It</title><content type='html'>What's the "in" thing today? Faking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faking has become part of our lifestyle. We fake almost everything. From our tanned skin to our Hermes Jelly Kelly bag. Women fake orgasms, men fake relationships (thanks to Paolo of GT for the idea). Sometimes, its the other way around. Men fake orgasms (although, this is a bit hard to prove), women fake relationships (much harder to prove) Name it, we fake it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite show (you should know by now), Sex and the City, has an episode on this one. Samantha dated a guy who faked a future to get what he wants in the present (from the words of Carrie Bradshaw). He lured her to spend the night with him and offered her a house at the Hamptons where (he said) they could build a family together. But after that night, she never saw him again. Although we all know that Samantha would be more than willing to sleep with him even without those empty promises, but then she felt deceived. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The now popular &lt;a href="http://news.inq7.net/opinion/index.php?index=2&amp;story_id=18883&amp;col=83"&gt;Faye Nicole San Juan and her mother&lt;/a&gt;, Cathy, faked winning a fake contest and their fake story circulated everywhere,  from broadsheets to the internet. Faye's story touched everyone's heart and everybody just wants to know who this Faye character is, so then they could help her. But later they found out that it was just another hoax made by some insane attention-seeking mother  for the gullible Filipino readers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People pretend to have it all, to know it all and to be good at it all. People pretend to be happy. They pretend to be strong, to be rich, and to be wise. What is it with faking that people has become obsessed with it that they can't live without fooling someone by making a fool of themselves?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we need to fake it when we can just be true to ourselves and be real? Why do we love to complicate things when simpler things can ease a lot of stress and pain? Howcome in the "Real World", the word "Real" almost doesn't exist anymore? Well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-110129161464768702?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/110129161464768702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=110129161464768702' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110129161464768702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/110129161464768702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/11/faking-it.html' title='Faking It'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109907705797085791</id><published>2004-10-30T03:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-30T03:10:57.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Personality Disorder....Cool!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width="300" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" border="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="180"&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Disorder&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="120"&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Rating&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/disorder_information2.html#paranoid"&gt;Paranoid&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#cc0033" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;High&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/disorder_information2.html#schizoid"&gt;Schizoid&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#cc0033" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;High&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/disorder_information2.html#schizotypal"&gt;Schizotypal&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#990099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Moderate&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/disorder_information2.html#antisocial"&gt;Antisocial&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#990099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Moderate&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/disorder_information2.html#borderline"&gt;Borderline&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#000099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Low&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/disorder_information2.html#histrionic"&gt;Histrionic&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#cc0033" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;High&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/disorder_information2.html#narcissistic"&gt;Narcissistic&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#990099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Moderate&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/disorder_information2.html#avoidant"&gt;Avoidant&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#000099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Low&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/disorder_information2.html#dependent"&gt;Dependent&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#000099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Low&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/disorder_information2.html#obsessive"&gt;Obsessive-Compulsive&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font color="#000099" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;Low&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" align="center"&gt;&lt;font color="#000000" face="arial" size="-1"&gt;&lt;br&gt;-- &lt;a href="http://www.4degreez.com/misc/personality_disorder_test.mv"&gt;Personality Disorder Test - Take It!&lt;/a&gt; --&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paranoid&lt;br /&gt;Paranoid personality disorder is characterized by a distrust of others and a constant suspicion that people around you have sinister motives. People with this disorder tend to have excessive trust in their own knowledge and abilities and usually avoid close relationships with others. They search for hidden meanings in everything and read hostile intentions into the actions of others. They are quick to challenge the loyalties of friends and loved ones and often appear cold and distant to others. They usually shift blame to others and tend to carry long grudges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Schizoid&lt;br /&gt;People with schizoid personality disorder avoid relationships and do not show much emotion. They genuinely prefer to be alone and do not secretly wish for popularity. They tend to seek jobs that require little social contact. Their social skills are often weak and they do not show a need for attention or acceptance. They are perceived as humorless and distant and often are termed "loners."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Histrionic&lt;br /&gt;People with histrionic personality disorder are constant attention seekers. They need to be the center of attention all the time, often interrupting others in order to dominate the conversation. They use grandiose language to discribe everyday events and seek constant praise. They may dress provacatively or exaggerate illnesses in order to gain attention. They also tend to exaggerate friendships and relationships, believing that everyone loves them. They are often manipulative. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting, huh? &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109907705797085791?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109907705797085791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109907705797085791' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109907705797085791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109907705797085791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/10/my-personality-disordercool.html' title='My Personality Disorder....Cool!'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109868853952844415</id><published>2004-10-25T15:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-26T09:02:14.123+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bus Ride</title><content type='html'>My friend, Jen, and I were talking the other day and she told me, "&lt;em&gt;You'll only have one great love in your life.&lt;/em&gt;" This has been a topic in one of the episodes of Sex and the City too.  But there, Charlotte said you'll have two great loves. So which is true? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer hardly interest me. I don't believe on those things. Whoever said that in the journey called life, there's only one bus. And once you missed it, you'll never see another bus again. Then, what will happen to you? Trapped in that place forever? Scary thought, or even more so.. lonely thought!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever happened to the "try and try until you succeed" cliche. If there's only one great love in your life, and you failed to keep it, would you still continue to try knowing that there won't be any other as great as that? Isn't that "one great love" idea so pessimistic? I thought every single woman is dying to meet "the one" a.k.a. Mr. Right that they try so hard to find him and mistakenly identify every guy they date as Mr. Right. Is "&lt;em&gt;the one&lt;/em&gt;" equal to "&lt;em&gt;your one great love&lt;/em&gt;"? How would you know that the bus had passed by and you just missed it? Okay this is sounding like one of those Carrie Bradshaw monologues. I need to stop questioning!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people say that searching for that great love could be like searching for a needle in a haystack but whoever said there's only one needle in the haystack. And heck, if the needle is in the haystack, I won't waste my time trying to find it. I would buy another one. That would make the task a lot easier. &lt;em&gt;Buy?&lt;/em&gt; Ooops! Bad analogy! Hehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the bus analogy... Is the bus the only ride I could take to get home? Well sure I could take a cab or ride the train or maybe even drive my own car. But who knows... maybe one day a helicopter might come along and take me to places where the bus could never take me to. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109868853952844415?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109868853952844415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109868853952844415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109868853952844415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109868853952844415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/10/bus-ride.html' title='Bus Ride'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109834663356007834</id><published>2004-10-21T16:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-21T16:27:31.816+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Dates</title><content type='html'>Time for some serious blogging!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to write something about love (for a change) but since I have a very little knowledge of that, I'm going to write about dating, which i have a PhD in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This topic was inspired by a thread LagunaMan posted in Urban-Princess forum. The questions are: What do women expect in a date? And if you accept a date invitation from a guy...does that mean you "like" him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the basic question is...Why do you date?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There could be gazillions of reason why people date. But I will focus on the reason why women date, since I could only speak in behalf of the female populace (as if i'm representing them!). Or better yet, I'll focus on the reasons why &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; date. Answering this question will also lead me to answer the other question: If I accept a date invitation from a guy, does that mean I like him? So I should just probably answer the latter. Hehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay first, I have accepted date invitations from guys I don't like. So why did I? One reason is that..some are really &lt;em&gt;makulit&lt;/em&gt;. This could probably be the worst reason why I date. I go out with them so they would stop bugging me. After that, adios baby! Why can't they get it? No means no. Am I sending the wrong signal? Or do they have a glitch in their system that's why they're processing the wrong signal? Beats me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another reason is... there are some really nice guys out there and so I'm trying to open my doors for the possiblity of a romantic connection. But I guess since it wasn't there at the beginning, it will never be there..ever! And so one date is enough. Ciao honey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the best dates I've had were with the guys that I like. those that im attracted to in one way or another. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the best dates were those that aren't planned. When you'll just find yourself in a coffee shop, having a good conversation, enjoying each other's company and ending up wanting for more. And you'll just realize you're actually on a date. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what I want. Not a candlelit dinner with roses and serenading violinists, so superficial. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my kind of date....sweet and yet, real.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109834663356007834?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109834663356007834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109834663356007834' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109834663356007834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109834663356007834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/10/best-dates.html' title='Best Dates'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109825170247935645</id><published>2004-10-20T13:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-28T13:28:43.976+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dementia of a Lunatic Princess</title><content type='html'>Questions I've been wanting to answer, but people don't ask me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Given the chance, who do u want to kill at this very moment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Male chauvinist pigs!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're a doctor, what field would you want to specialize in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cosmetic Surgery&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're a lawyer, what field would you want to specialize in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Women's rights&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're an engineer, what field would you want to specialize in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Funny, I never thought about that!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's your long-term goal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;World Domination!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's your painful pleasure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tattoos. I have this constant urge to ink my skin. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you like about Britney Spears?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Her Arabic character tattoo on her nape&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you like about Pink?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Her bar code tattoo on her nape&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you like about Nicole Richie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Her ribbon tattoo on her nape&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have a thing for nape?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;NO! I have a thing for TATTOO! Damn it!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What supernatural power do you want to possess?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The power to possess everything!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What should a guy do to convince you to marry him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Buy me a Badgley-Mischka wedding dress. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you have plans of getting married?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;NO! I only want the dress!! hihihi!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Were you always schizophrenic as a child?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who said anything about schizophrenia?!? I have dementia!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think engineering caused your dementia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Abso-fuckin'-lutely!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Note: Please pardon my insanity. I'm not usually this crazy. Just testing! Hehehe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109825170247935645?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109825170247935645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109825170247935645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109825170247935645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109825170247935645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/10/dementia-of-lunatic-princess.html' title='Dementia of a Lunatic Princess'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109808716081347015</id><published>2004-10-18T16:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-18T20:11:07.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vagina Blog</title><content type='html'>In an episode of &lt;strong&gt;Sex and the City &lt;/strong&gt;(Ep 50 The Real Me), Charlotte has a Vulvodynia. In layman's term, her vagina is depressed. Her gynecologist advised her to make a vagina journal. So when she told the girls about this, naturally, their reactions were:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Miranda&lt;/strong&gt; (sarcastically): &lt;em&gt;What...a dear-vagina-why-so-blue kind of journal?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Carrie&lt;/strong&gt; (in a sheepish voice) : &lt;em&gt;Dear Vagina, guess who I have a crush on?&lt;/em&gt; *smirks*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Charlotte&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;No! Its more like... itchy today? not itchy.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder....how does a vagina journal look like? *grins*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found a very funny thread in one of my favorite forums (or fora? hehe!), Girltalk, the topic is &lt;a href="http://www2.femalenetwork.com/board/viewtopic.php?t=21375"&gt;"If your vagina could speak"&lt;/a&gt;. This was inspired by the book &lt;strong&gt;The Vagina Monologues &lt;/strong&gt;by &lt;em&gt;Eve Ensler&lt;/em&gt;. If your vagina could speak, what would it say? Here are some of the responses from the Girltalkers, they're so hilarious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I'm in drought!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sick and tired of waiting!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need another corn dog!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When am I going to get some action?!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm so tight dearie, I'd better try loosening up a bit!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm dead tired...give me some rest honey!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember a classmate in high school named Gina. We used to call her Gina Vagina (Gina, pronounced rhyming vagina). We're not actually making fun of her name. Well, okay sort of... but with her consent! Hahaha! She laughs with us about that. Oh those crazy high school days when saying the word "vagina" makes you blush because you feel that people who hear you might think you’re a pervert or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its funny how we can openly and loudly say that word today. And even discuss about its needs and wants...in an appropriate manner, of course. Is it because of the power that women have today? Where did that power came from anyway? From the vagina? Uhmm...so which came first, the chicken or the egg? That, i wouldn't know. I'm just glad that "Vagina" is now making a big name for herself. Kudos to women!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109808716081347015?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109808716081347015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109808716081347015' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109808716081347015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109808716081347015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/10/vagina-blog.html' title='Vagina Blog'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109784902256995743</id><published>2004-10-15T22:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-15T22:06:26.126+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What personality elements make up your Personality cocktail?</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align=center border=1 bordercolor=black cellspacing=0 cellpadding=4 width=200px&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=#ffcccc align=center&gt;&lt;font style='color:black; font-size:18pt;'&gt;How to make a Louise&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=white&gt;&lt;font style='color:black; font-size:12pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 part success&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 part crazyiness&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 part instinct&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=#ffffcc&gt;&lt;font style='color:black; font-size:12pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Method:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;BR&gt;Layer ingredientes in a shot glass. Add a little cocktail umbrella and a dash of emotion&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align=center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;form method="POST" action="http://www.go-quiz.com/cocktail/cocktail.php"&gt;Username:&lt;input name="uname"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;input type=submit value="How do you make a 'you'?"&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.go-quiz.com/cocktail/cocktail.php"&gt;Personality cocktail&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt;From &lt;a href="http://www.go-quiz.com"&gt;Go-Quiz.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109784902256995743?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109784902256995743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109784902256995743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109784902256995743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109784902256995743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/10/what-personality-elements-make-up-your.html' title='What personality elements make up your Personality cocktail?'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109773340310402932</id><published>2004-10-14T13:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-15T08:13:56.223+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's talk about (a little bit of) politics</title><content type='html'>Ok no rants for today. There are more important things than my ruined nail polish because some guy at the MRT stepped on my foot or my aching body due to my ever strenuous workout or my mishaps because of the so-called &lt;a href="http://soloflite.blogspot.com/2004/08/gospel-according-to-murphy.html"&gt;Murphy's Law &lt;/a&gt;. Lo, no egoistic entry for today. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was reading the &lt;a href="http://www.inq7.net"&gt;Philippine Daily Inquirer&lt;/a&gt; the other day when Conrado de Quiros' column, There's The Rub, caught my attention. The article was entitled &lt;a href="http://news.inq7.net/opinion/index.php?index=2&amp;story_id=14490&amp;col=77"&gt;Still, Hunger&lt;/a&gt;. Let me give you a very brief summary of the article if you're too tired to read lengthy stuff, although i still recommend you to read the full article. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is about the food coupons that Pres. Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo is giving away to the poorest of the poor. Sounds generous, huh? But we all know there's an ulterior motive for this. Almost everyone would agree that this idea is all bullsh*t. As De Quiros pointed out clearly in his analogy: &lt;em&gt; It is giving people fish after robbing them of the means to catch fish. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get so frustrated everytime I look at my payslip and see the deductions column. The tax I pay monthly to the government is more than the total of my three days salary. I can't even spend that amount of money in one shopping day. Oh... I'm ranting again, sorry I can't help it, because the worst thing about this is that I know that the taxes I'm paying goes directly to the pocket of some greedy politicians (isn't that redundant?). This is one of the worst feelings... you know you're being robbed but you can't do anything about it. These people have the power, they have control. And what do I have? Just this blog to complain about their money-hungry asses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Countless unemployed Filipinos, homeless street children, people dying of poverty... there are millions. I'm beginning to lose hope. I'm feeling sorry for these people. I feel sorry for us, Filipinos, who will never have a taste of the good life because it was already stolen from us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109773340310402932?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109773340310402932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109773340310402932' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109773340310402932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109773340310402932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/10/lets-talk-about-little-bit-of-politics.html' title='Let&apos;s talk about (a little bit of) politics'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109757179921203899</id><published>2004-10-12T16:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-20T09:58:44.776+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jaded me</title><content type='html'>I'm tired. Been doing &lt;strong&gt;nothing&lt;/strong&gt; for days. Not exactly nothing, i've been surfing the net, chatting, posting at &lt;a href="http://www2.femalenetwork.com/board/"&gt;Girltalk&lt;/a&gt;, and blogging.. take note: in the &lt;strong&gt;office&lt;/strong&gt;!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I've been working here for 4 months already. They should give me more projects!! I don't know if I'm lucky to get paid for nothing. I'm supposed to undergo a 6-month training. But right now, I'm not doing anything. I was given a project that doesn't need a lot of thinking. Is it because i'm a trainee or is it because i'm a lady engineer working in a testosterone-dominated company?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do i feel that people here (my co-workers) don't take me seriously? They think i'm just another girl who's never good at anything but shopping. They would sometimes explain to me that the current is equal to the voltage divided by the resistance. I mean...&lt;strong&gt;hello?!?&lt;/strong&gt; I'm an engineer. I know Ohm's Law more than any other laws in the universe! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well maybe if Elle Woods is to law, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is to engineering. Hahaha! Its just so funny that my coworkers alert me on which mall is having their midnight sale and the schedules of bazaars and tiangge blah blah blah. As if that's the only thing I care about. That's unfair! I'm more than that. I'm way beyond that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't need to prove myself to anybody. I spent my entire college life doing that. And I'm tired. I don't need their opinions, anyway. I believe in myself, even if no one else will believe in me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;*****************************&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Women are judged inferior until we prove ourselves. Men are judged superior until they prove what assholes they are."&lt;/em&gt; (Nothing Last Forever by Sidney Sheldon) &lt;em&gt;hehehe!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109757179921203899?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109757179921203899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109757179921203899' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109757179921203899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109757179921203899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/10/jaded-me.html' title='Jaded me'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109722474805039602</id><published>2004-10-08T16:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-28T09:23:54.912+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotions</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Previous post deleted&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;**********************************&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Great Expectations &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(starring Ethan Hawke and Gwyneth Paltrow) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finn &lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;What's it like not to feel anything? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Estella &lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Let's say there was a little girl, and from the time she could understand, she was taught to fear... let's say she was taught to fear daylight. She was taught that it was her enemy, that it would hurt her. And then one sunny day, you ask her to go outside and play and she won't. You can't be angry at her can you? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Finn &lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;I knew that little girl and I saw the light in her eyes, and no matter what you say or do, that's still what I see. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Estella &lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;We are who we are. People don't change. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109722474805039602?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109722474805039602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109722474805039602' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109722474805039602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109722474805039602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/10/emotions.html' title='Emotions'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109698796358757374</id><published>2004-10-05T22:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-13T16:06:20.380+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love You Quio!</title><content type='html'>My dog is dying. He's my favorite of all our dogs (we had 14, by the way). He's an English Bulldog. Gosh! I've never cried over a pet like this before. I love that dog. Shit! Why does he have to die? Fuck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quio: R.I.P.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109698796358757374?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109698796358757374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109698796358757374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109698796358757374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109698796358757374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/10/i-love-you-quio.html' title='I Love You Quio!'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109681561814113733</id><published>2004-10-03T22:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-18T20:18:54.066+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quizzes...ahhh....to kill time</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a target="new" href="http://www.stomps.org/Quizzes/Friends/index.html"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.stomps.org/Quizzes/Friends/results-rachel.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm Rachel Green from Friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a target="new" href="http://www.stomps.org/Quizzes/Friends/index.html"&gt;Take the Friends Quiz here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ok so i'm Rachel Green. (Yeah..I wish!) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a target="new" href="http://sarah.urbanique.net/stranger/quiz3/quiz3.html"&gt;&lt;img src="http://surreal.divinereverie.net/quizzes/3/unique.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;What's YOUR Style? &lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You are UNIQUE! There is no ONE word to describe who you are, and it's equally hard to define your style. Exotic? Extraordinary? Different? It's most definitely unique. You follow your own style and your own path; nothing and nobody dictates your actions.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://sarah.urbanique.net/stranger/quiz3/quiz3.html"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;What's your style?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizilla.com/users/intransfer/quizzes/Which%20Supermodel%20Are%20You%3F/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.quizilla.com/I/intransfer/1068784437_lquizmilla.jpg" border="0" alt="Milla Jovavich"&gt;&lt;br&gt; &lt;font size="-1"&gt;Which Supermodel Are You?&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt; &lt;font size="-3"&gt;brought to you by &lt;a href="http://quizilla.com"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=280px bgcolor=#000099 border=1 bordercolor=black&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;Td bgcolor=#ccffff align=center&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: arial,verdana; font-size: 12pt; color: black;"&gt;Your Icecream Flavour is...&lt;/font&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: arial,verdana; font-size: 16pt; color:#000099;"&gt;Neopolitan!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;Tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=white&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.go-quiz.com/icecream-neopolitan.gif" align=right&gt;&lt;font style="font-family: arial,verdana; font-size: 12pt; color: black;"&gt;You aren't satisfied with just one flavor. They say variety is the spice of life and this shines through in your Ice cream of choice! Just don't eat all the chocolate and leave the strawberry and vanilla behind!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.go-quiz.com/icecream/icecream-test.php"&gt;What is your Icecream Flavour?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find out at &lt;a href="http://www.go-quiz.com/"&gt;Go Quiz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109681561814113733?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109681561814113733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109681561814113733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109681561814113733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109681561814113733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/10/quizzesahhhto-kill-time.html' title='Quizzes...ahhh....to kill time'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109540889063333152</id><published>2004-09-17T16:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-17T17:40:21.273+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Diet Plan</title><content type='html'>Goal: Shed a few pounds and look thin.&lt;br /&gt;Plan: Be anorexic or bulimic, whichever comes first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else can I do? I tried waking up so early in the morning so I could run on my treadmill and do some sit-ups for 30 mins or so. But..can't do. I'm just so lazy in the morning that I couldn't sacrifice my precious 30 mins of sleep for physical activities. Although I try to walk as much as I can, i.e. walking around the mall until my feet hurts, and I try not to use the elevator and use the stairs instead in our office building (our office is on the 3rd floor).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other plans didn't work either. I tried to starve myself. But food always seem to find their way to my mouth. Urgh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't understand why do I look fat when I only weigh 105 lbs (by the way, I stand 5'2" tall) and I wear size 'small'. Isn't that ridiculous? What should my target weight be? 75 lbs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it so easy to catch a cold but I find it hard to catch anorexia or bulimia? Will somebody please tell where can I get those? I need to have them...immediately!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Target date of accomplishment: end of 2004.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109540889063333152?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109540889063333152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109540889063333152' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109540889063333152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109540889063333152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/09/my-diet-plan.html' title='My Diet Plan'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109383973640850689</id><published>2004-08-30T12:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-31T14:38:12.420+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Second Tattoo</title><content type='html'>Aug 29, 2004.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a tribal butterfly design on my right hip bone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is not as painful as my first tattoo experience. But this time, I passed out during the procedure. Its not because of the pain but because it was closer to my face (i mean compared to my ankle where i got my first tattoo on..hehe!) and I was staring at it while the artist is tattooing my skin. So I was unconsciously holding my breath everytime i see or feel the needle touches my skin. I didn't know that i shouldn't be doing that because it will really make you faint, well until that incident happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to get the tattoo finished that day so after I rested for a few minutes, the artist proceeded to ink my skin. The butterfly tattoo turned out good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of that experience, i'm not sure if this tattoo will be my last. I hope not...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here's my tattoo =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos.friendster.com/photos/03/00/2450030/5740877726382l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109383973640850689?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109383973640850689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109383973640850689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109383973640850689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109383973640850689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/08/my-second-tattoo.html' title='My Second Tattoo'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7687419.post-109383057947530318</id><published>2004-08-20T09:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-17T17:42:12.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Tattoo</title><content type='html'>Aug 19, 2004.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a pink flower design on my left ankle. Ankle is one of the most painful part of our body to get a tattoo on. Nonetheless, I endured the pain. I'm so proud of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took hours before it finally sinked in to me that i am really inked for life. I was just shocked for the first few hours. I can't believe i just got my first tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before i went to bed that night, I was already thinking what design to get for my next tattoo. That's me. I'm a freak. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, here's my tattoo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos.friendster.com/photos/03/00/2450030/5740866852655l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7687419-109383057947530318?l=itsiebitsie.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/feeds/109383057947530318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7687419&amp;postID=109383057947530318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109383057947530318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7687419/posts/default/109383057947530318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsiebitsie.blogspot.com/2004/08/my-first-tattoo.html' title='My First Tattoo'/><author><name>ItsieBitsie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17492003465715267914</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
