<?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-374522050531088192</id><updated>2012-02-16T14:14:24.585-08:00</updated><category term='Articles'/><category term='Questions'/><category term='Sugoi'/><title type='text'>From Bubbles to all her Fav. ppl</title><subtitle type='html'>YOU! are my most valuable treasures. We may live miles apart, but i treasure u more because of it.  This blog is for all u ppl out there whom i cannot see/talk to everyday.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>47</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-4310306585559856801</id><published>2012-02-06T20:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T20:39:19.014-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Lapse - Milky Way</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/22439234" width="650" height="370" frameborder="0" webkitAllowFullScreen mozallowfullscreen allowFullScreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/22439234"&gt;The Mountain&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/terjes"&gt;TSO Photography&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-4310306585559856801?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/4310306585559856801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=4310306585559856801' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4310306585559856801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4310306585559856801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2012/02/milky-way.html' title='Time Lapse - Milky Way'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-8495133052946619659</id><published>2012-01-28T20:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T20:38:13.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Audi S7 - Vampire</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lw9ZeXB2uKs" width="560"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-8495133052946619659?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/8495133052946619659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=8495133052946619659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/8495133052946619659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/8495133052946619659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2012/01/audi-s7-vampire.html' title='Audi S7 - Vampire'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/lw9ZeXB2uKs/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-1456214824687245392</id><published>2011-12-03T09:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-03T09:00:04.565-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Questions'/><title type='text'>Success Is....</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Quote from the movie "Fame" (2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;There are some things success is not.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18px;"&gt;It’s not fame, it’s not money or power&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Success is….waking up In the morning so excited about what you have todo that you literally fly out the door&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;It’s getting to work with people you love. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Success is connecting with the world and making people feel.&amp;nbsp; It’s finding a way to bind together peoplewho have nothing in common but a dream.&amp;nbsp;It’s falling asleep at night knowing you did the best job you could&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Success is joy and freedom and friendship.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Success is love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What is Success to you?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-1456214824687245392?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/1456214824687245392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=1456214824687245392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/1456214824687245392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/1456214824687245392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/12/success-is.html' title='Success Is....'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Vancouver, BC</georss:featurename><georss:point>49.261226 -123.1139268</georss:point><georss:box>49.178248 -123.2718553 49.344204 -122.9559983</georss:box></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-4094391559857303105</id><published>2011-12-01T20:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T21:02:40.103-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Articles'/><title type='text'>10 Things I wish I Had Learned Earlier.</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I found an interesting article the other day, so I decided to type it out to share: &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;"10 Things I wish I had Learned Earlier" - By: Tia Singh&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in 1998, Fresh out of grad school and working in my first ever "real" job as an Account Executive in New Delhi Advertising agency, I knew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew that I was going to quit the corporate world within 5 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lasted 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It still took another 5 years of twists and turns for me to start my personal development journey and to bring me where I am today: a place of understanding, expansion, trust, happiness, knowing. I have learned, experienced, struggled, loved, lost and finally come home to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I believe that our experiences are necessary for us to grow and evolve, there are a few gentle reminders that I wish I could have given myself - or should I say, started believing much earlier in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1.) You Don't Have to Know All the Answers.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not being able to make a life decision, pick a career or know what you want to do does not mean that you aren't "living up to your potential" or wasting your life. One day, it will come together. Until then, enjoy the journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2.) You Always Have a Choice.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even when life isn't panning out the way you want, you can choose how to respond. Even when you feel completely helpless, you have a choice! Don't spend your time thinking you have to do what's expected of you or making decisions based on wanting to be liked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3.) Enjoy the In-Between Spaces.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time it takes to make your dreams come true. The periods of singledom. The time spent in relationships. Don't be in one situation and wish for it to be something else. That is truly a sad waste of time because one day you will wish you were more present instead of worrying about when things would change. &amp;nbsp;And believe it or not, those things you'll miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4.) Have More Opinions.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't be scared to share them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5.) Comparison is the Deadliest Disease.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little competition is healthy but know this: there is no race you will not fall behind; there is no one to catch up to - you have all the time in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;6.) Quitting is an Option.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sooner you accept that and stop trying to please everyone, the faster you'll progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;7.) Failing at Something Does Not Make You a Failure.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It may be a Cliche but it's something I wish I'd believed when I was younger. &amp;nbsp;Also, you WILL fail, without Fail! It's fine to dislike it, as long as it doesn't stop you from getting back on the horse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;8.) Don't Make Excuses for Who You Are.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't pretend to like music your friends like or change your mind, behavior or tastes to become someone you're not. If you don't want six figure salary, own it. &amp;nbsp;If you want to make a million dollars, own that too. Whoever you are, whatever you want, is valid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;9.) Travel Will Change You.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be prepared to expand and grow like you never thought possible. Te earlier, the better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;10.) Trust That Feeling in Your Gut.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those times you said one thing, but felt something else - INTUITION! &amp;nbsp;Your inner guidance sstem will never do you wrong, You already know. Trust yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-4094391559857303105?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/4094391559857303105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=4094391559857303105' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4094391559857303105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4094391559857303105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/12/10-things-i-wish-i-had-learned-earlier.html' title='10 Things I wish I Had Learned Earlier.'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><georss:featurename>Vancouver, BC</georss:featurename><georss:point>49.261226 -123.1139268</georss:point><georss:box>49.1783265 -123.2718553 49.344125500000004 -122.9559983</georss:box></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-3138354446060821624</id><published>2011-11-26T19:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-26T20:17:33.427-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas?</title><content type='html'>As we talked about Christmas gift. &amp;nbsp;You put in so much thought into what to get ur parents and your sisters. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Heck, i put in a lot of thought towards what to get them too. then 2 weeks before i "plan" to show up you ask me what i want for Christmas -- but really it only came up coz i ask you what i am getting for Christmas. &amp;nbsp;I really just want some indication that you put in some thought for me. because we've been talking about what you want and watever one else in your family wants. &amp;nbsp;--&amp;nbsp;All i want is for you to say "something good", "it's a surprise" or something that would tell me that u didnt forget about me. &amp;nbsp;-- i dont expect ur family to think about me. &amp;nbsp;I do expect my bf to have thought about me. &amp;nbsp;u asked me what i want. &amp;nbsp;--that just really tells me that u havent thought about it at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but u told me that i already bought my own Xmas Christmas present. $20 ear muffs. &amp;nbsp;apparently that was all i was getting. &amp;nbsp; the same ear muffs i got your sister. &amp;nbsp;trouble is, i wasnt just going to give her the ear muffs. &amp;nbsp;When i told you that i thought i went a little too far with ur sister's Christmas present you told me that it wasnt alot even with the added stuff. &amp;nbsp;-- i know this message is all jumbled up in to one thing. &amp;nbsp;-- but i hope there's an understanding as to why i would be a little psychologically "unbalanced"&amp;nbsp;with the idea. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;-- it wasnt too much for your sister, &amp;nbsp;but for your gf it's enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN made a joking comment about me wanting the most / the best when i half complained. -- well i never said that.... but really... why not? &amp;nbsp;i do want the most, the best. &amp;nbsp; not from ur sisters or ur brother in law. -- but from my bf? &amp;nbsp;YES. &amp;nbsp;i do. &amp;nbsp;ur sisters' got their bf / husband to spoil them. If u want to spoil them, then that's ur thing. &amp;nbsp;But is it wrong of me to expect my bf to spoil me more than he spoils any one else? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's more...it looks like i'm trying to impress ur sister. which i dont understand why i am... i'm not asking her to impress me. &amp;nbsp;and frankly if i was to be a mean bitch, i would say i really care what she thinks of me. &amp;nbsp;If what ur sisters think changes what u feel about me then u dont really love me. &amp;nbsp;u love who ever will make ur family happy. &amp;nbsp;and i'm not it, &amp;nbsp;i'm not an entertainment doll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Get ur parents the $300 receiver. &amp;nbsp;get urself $1100 microphones. &amp;nbsp; ur gf? &amp;nbsp;heck check the dollar store they have some neat stuff there. &amp;nbsp;i'll bet they will still have things in stock the day before Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-3138354446060821624?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/3138354446060821624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=3138354446060821624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3138354446060821624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3138354446060821624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/11/christmas.html' title='Christmas?'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-4696350499768908109</id><published>2011-11-26T17:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-26T19:14:31.635-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Valentines Day"</title><content type='html'>Hello Readers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how many of you still read this blog and i don't blame you because it's not like i update it regularly anyways. But it's one of those days where i think it is about time i get some things I've been thinking about in writing. &amp;nbsp;Clear my head - sort to speak -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I watched a movie called Valentines Day. In this movie there was a guy who was dating and sleeping with this girl and the told this girl that he was divorced when he wasn't. Of course this girl found out on Valentines day. This girl had a great way with words and let him have it in a restaurant in front of his wife. &amp;nbsp;Her friend was worried that she was going to be hurt. &amp;nbsp; how she had those puppy eyes when she's sad. &amp;nbsp;Was there for comfort and support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had them, - puppy eyes i mean - &amp;nbsp;and i was hurt....&lt;br /&gt;just that no one was there to see. &amp;nbsp; --because, instead, i was judged, given the disappointed wagging index finger, and the disapproving shaking heads for hurting the "real girlfriend". &lt;br /&gt;but the truth is she was never hurt. because he never told her. -- i, on the other hand, was told. "yeah... i'm still with her. i love her. i'm sorry" &amp;nbsp; -- but he isn't really sorry now, is he?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God knows i wish i could go back and do exactly what that girl did in the movie.... &amp;nbsp;do what i didnt have the courage to do. Tell the world and his gf that he is a cheating S.O.B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up to this day. my "friends" still refer to that day and deem me&amp;nbsp;untrustworthy. &amp;nbsp;-- for reasons i dont really understand... for being lied to? &amp;nbsp; for being played? &amp;nbsp;for falling for a guy who i thought was single? &amp;nbsp;for liking a guy who's gf goes to the same school? &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--- In that case a shout out to all UBC alumni and to everyone who's dated a UBC alumni according to an invisible handbook and code of honor you're off limits to each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A shout out to finger wagging and head shaking "friends". &amp;nbsp;Thank you for the (non-) support. &amp;nbsp; the (non-) judgement. &amp;nbsp;Thank you for (not) being there. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;The same friends who wonder why I dont like to share my thoughts about my love life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh - I wonder too...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-4696350499768908109?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/4696350499768908109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=4696350499768908109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4696350499768908109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4696350499768908109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/11/valentines-day.html' title='&quot;Valentines Day&quot;'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-7163533161202837417</id><published>2011-10-14T00:21:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T00:21:33.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3am</title><content type='html'>Needing ur touch has never been an easy thing to ignore. &amp;nbsp;lately it's been harder than ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this isnt a path i would choose for anyone. &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my rock. &amp;nbsp; my pillar. &amp;nbsp; my support. &amp;nbsp; the one person who would still be on my side when the world turns on me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- all i want is to make this hurt stop --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that too much to ask for?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-7163533161202837417?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/7163533161202837417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=7163533161202837417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7163533161202837417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7163533161202837417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/10/3am.html' title='3am'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-3321642668833906900</id><published>2011-09-09T23:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T23:43:44.999-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blowfish</title><content type='html'>Woke up by my alarm this morning at 9:15am. &amp;nbsp;I was tired but forced myself to wake up anyways and decided to get some studying done before mom wakes up. &amp;nbsp;Mom kept sleeping while I got up, took a shower and started studying. &amp;nbsp;It wasn't until almost 1pm did she finally woke up. &amp;nbsp;We headed downtown soon after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a bright sunny day. We had a late lunch at Cafe Crepe and parted ways. I stayed at Blenz to study and she went shopping. &amp;nbsp;I studied only a few interruptions of updates from my friends on the phone but that was it. It was quite productive as far as studying goes. I'm growing tired of studying and cant believe i still have so long before my exam. &amp;nbsp;I know there is still a lot of material i have to cover and study. But i've never been very good at studying on my own. &amp;nbsp;-- i miss my study groups and late-nights with my friends at the university library. &amp;nbsp;I can always count on them to keep me focused or distracted (depending on the day) :p &amp;nbsp; but at least i had company and i was entertained. &amp;nbsp;It wasn't just the library where we made our mark. &amp;nbsp;the rez. common rooms and study halls. heck, even the lobby was a place for us to study!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom came back about 3 hours later with bags of goodies from Roots, Danier, American Eagle... &amp;nbsp;I asked her if she had fun, she nodded and smiled. I laughed at her. -- but now we know where i got my shopping tendencies from :p &amp;nbsp; like mother like daughter. :p -- Shopaholics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found out about a horrible news today... all I can say is that I am glad I am not there anymore. If I was, I would feel so shitty. &amp;nbsp;People were right... it was a blessing in disguise. &amp;nbsp;I would have hated doing what I would have to do if I was still there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... Haven't been feeling very well all day today. &amp;nbsp;My eyes are tired and i feel bloated and on edge. (like an angry blowfish, &amp;nbsp;with spikes and all!) -- Time for Bubbles to go to bed. -- soon. :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-3321642668833906900?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/3321642668833906900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=3321642668833906900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3321642668833906900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3321642668833906900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/09/blowfish.html' title='Blowfish'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-4909320140102871920</id><published>2011-09-04T02:28:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T02:28:52.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Decorated Fridge</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;- Decorated my Fridge -&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;A reminder of who and what's important to me. As I take more photos and have them developed I will have a lot more to add to this fridge. -- the surface that was once blank and boring. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;It's a reminder of what i'm made of. The people in my life who shape who I was and who I've become. It's in what they do, what they say and how they make me feel.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;My parents: &amp;nbsp;They will always be proud of me. &amp;nbsp;Though they don't often voice this, I can see in these pictures, such as graduation day, that June 2nd, 2010 was not just my special day, it was theirs too. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;My friends: who's always available to listen and support with open hearts and open mind (mostly anyway). &amp;nbsp;They keep me grounded, feeling secure and brave. &amp;nbsp;They are my safety net. &amp;nbsp;-- the only reason how the dependent me dare make the brave decision to live in a city on my own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;My family: the people who watched me grow up. Though, due to distance, they cant always be around me, but they will always be apart of who I am and who I have become. My cousins who would never treat me like a stranger just because it has been years since we last met. My aunts and uncles who still never fails grasp every opportunity to poke fun and bug the hell out of me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Last but not least: My Boyfriend: &amp;nbsp;Who always tries his best to give me what I want. To make me happy he would do almost anything. Who loves me and listens to all my rambling.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;-- At the end of the day: Love is all that matters. And I can proudly say, I'm not short on that. --&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;-- Bottom Line: I wouldn't trade any one for any thing! --&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ADp_CbpYk40/TmG0rgKCwPI/AAAAAAAAA9I/eEVL1mJoruM/s1600/IMG00233-20110902-2120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ADp_CbpYk40/TmG0rgKCwPI/AAAAAAAAA9I/eEVL1mJoruM/s320/IMG00233-20110902-2120.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&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/374522050531088192-4909320140102871920?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/4909320140102871920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=4909320140102871920' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4909320140102871920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4909320140102871920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/09/decorated-fridge.html' title='Decorated Fridge'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ADp_CbpYk40/TmG0rgKCwPI/AAAAAAAAA9I/eEVL1mJoruM/s72-c/IMG00233-20110902-2120.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-6052374887304860969</id><published>2011-09-01T11:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T11:59:19.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hoodie</title><content type='html'>The summer is almost over and the days are getting chillier. I looked around the room yet again for that hoodie I always like to cuddle up with. I let out a&amp;nbsp;long disappointed sigh as I sat back on my bed, remembering that you took it with you this time. &amp;nbsp;I pouted to myself "that was my favorite!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some nights, when the day's been lonely and the night is too quiet, and when i have trouble settling down, I turn on the radio and put on that hoodie. &amp;nbsp;It always make me feel better and puts me to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reached over to my closet and grabbed the first sweater I laid my hands on. The sweater kept me warm but it just isn't the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told you that it was ok for you to take it, but now i just feel like I have nothing to remember you by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's fair, I suppose, the hoodie is yours after all. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-6052374887304860969?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/6052374887304860969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=6052374887304860969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/6052374887304860969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/6052374887304860969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/09/summer-is-almost-over-and-days-are.html' title='The Hoodie'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-5094799998873967477</id><published>2011-08-29T23:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T23:13:16.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>(Almost) 3 weeks</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s amazing how much (almost) 3 weeks can do to a person.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Through time I was finally getting use to being independent and being alone. It took almost my whole life to get there. Just (almost) 3 weeks, all that training and time given practice were all taken away. The place I call home is now strange and awfully quiet.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;All the things I enjoy doing alone seem obsolete and boring, and all I want is for you to be around again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;From the walk home to actually sitting down at my table I kept having the feeling that something was missing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Walking around the house I still walk around the area where your suitcase once was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Come 9pm I had the urge to go for our usual night walks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Walking around the neighborhood, I passed by the gas station with the convenience store. Reminded me of you, how you would almost always get a smoothie if we pass by. How you remember to put in coke first because that’s the favor I like. Walking down the Avenues of houses we visited, pointing out the ones we like and don’t like.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;– I even giggled to myself as I passed by BOBS.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It seem like everywhere I go we made memories and I can’t get away. Can’t help but feeling so awfully alone in a city I came to know so well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;You’ve trained me well. Its 3am and I’ve just finished a movie but still wide awake.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;– I will probably sleep in til noon tomorrow.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;You know what?&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I don’t even care that some of the movies we watched were stupid.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;It’s enjoyable just being in your arms or next to you.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Sometimes I prefer just being next to you because you are so damn warm all the time. You’re like an all year space warmer. &lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;But now that you are gone, my room is too cold to leave the window open.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;– what can I say? I’m hard to please&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; (not to cold not too warm) :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s amazing how much (almost) 3 weeks can do.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Taken away all my independence and then some.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I was just getting use to not having you around. I was just getting use to being alone. I was just about to stop missing you so much.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;– (almost) 3 weeks was all it took…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;– thinking about going to bed now , it seem so strange to not have your arms around me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-5094799998873967477?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/5094799998873967477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=5094799998873967477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/5094799998873967477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/5094799998873967477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/08/almost-3-weeks.html' title='(Almost) 3 weeks'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-4943036945212577021</id><published>2011-05-18T11:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T12:09:38.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dare to Love Completely.   Love, Dove.</title><content type='html'>My Co-worker, bought a whole package of Dove chocolates and the  inside each of the wrappings it gives you a little note from Dove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CrnASIB07Hs/TdL8pYfThTI/AAAAAAAAA0s/JJU6LWLDiBk/s1600/You+have+a+Great+Laugh.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="275" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CrnASIB07Hs/TdL8pYfThTI/AAAAAAAAA0s/JJU6LWLDiBk/s320/You+have+a+Great+Laugh.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughter's  great. I believe it is often the best medicine. I admit I do have  things I am upset about. I do not lack worries and things I much rather  not have happen to me. There are many things I pout about, but I refuse  to let it disable my ability to laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning to laugh even during the gravest circumstances made me realize that often it is just a matter of point of view. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every  one have a great laugh. Sometimes, a hearty deep laugh is the only  thing you need to feel so much lighter. Lifting the weight of the  stress. Laughter is often contagious and lightens the mood of every one else around you. -- This was a great reminder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i_JfhXMNzIc/TdL8o_0HoBI/AAAAAAAAA0o/iKTjSQCpO74/s1600/Dare+to+Love+Completely.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="280" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i_JfhXMNzIc/TdL8o_0HoBI/AAAAAAAAA0o/iKTjSQCpO74/s320/Dare+to+Love+Completely.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not so great with this one yet.Mainly because I don't know what my heart wants. I'm scared and I believe i have the rights to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think asking me to move to another province is a lot to ask for. I believe asking me to put my trust and total faith in some one is a lot to ask for.&amp;nbsp; -- So in that sense, maybe I do not dare love THAT completely.&amp;nbsp; But it does not mean there is a lack of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love does not conquer everything. &amp;nbsp; I need to feel that my schooling and my career is worth a damn. I've always seen myself as a helpless romantic. - maybe that's not so true after all? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dare to Love Completely. -- But how complete is "Complete"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-4943036945212577021?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/4943036945212577021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=4943036945212577021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4943036945212577021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4943036945212577021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/05/dare-to-love-completely-love-dove.html' title='Dare to Love Completely.   Love, Dove.'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CrnASIB07Hs/TdL8pYfThTI/AAAAAAAAA0s/JJU6LWLDiBk/s72-c/You+have+a+Great+Laugh.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-5162391192943166981</id><published>2011-05-04T14:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T14:02:37.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendship</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AYdDRTRaWr8" title="YouTube video player" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-5162391192943166981?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/5162391192943166981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=5162391192943166981' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/5162391192943166981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/5162391192943166981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/05/friendship.html' title='Friendship'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/AYdDRTRaWr8/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-3771998432538254086</id><published>2011-03-26T23:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-26T23:20:57.309-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sugoi'/><title type='text'>I Guess I Care</title><content type='html'>I've always pretended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always like repeating over and over, reassuring myself that I'm alright. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I'm pretending I don't care. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I'm repeating to myself that if things do not work out I will be ok.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always put up walls to make sure that nothing comes through to me. &amp;nbsp;-- that nothing can hurt me. I seek comfort from people, but most of the time, only from the presence of people. It's quite rare to see me talk about my feelings openly. For some of you, it drives you crazy that I bottle it all up when all you want to do is help me or get to know me more. I apologize over and over and I understand why my non-reaction causes concerns. I do hope you know I do not mean to shut you out, &amp;nbsp;just that when I am hurt, I will do everything in my power to hurt no more. &amp;nbsp;-- my defense mechanism will tell me that I am the only person who cant hurt me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always been my defense mechanism whenever I sense danger. I am also ultra sensitive to signs of danger too. So even if it's miles and miles away and might not even reach me, I put it up just in case. &amp;nbsp;I can take physical pain. &amp;nbsp;Emotional pains are the ones I have problem dealing with. Up til today I still have trouble opening up when things are emotional for me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The change between open communication and millions of iron walls being built around me is often in a matter of seconds. That can be pretty scary for someone close by, watching this change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always say that I don't care. &amp;nbsp;That I will deal with it as they come. &amp;nbsp;That I don't have an emotional response. And often I tell myself that over and over again until I believe it too. &amp;nbsp;-- this time, however, I couldn't help being bitter about it.-- so I guess I do care. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I care about what people say about me behind my back. &amp;nbsp;I care about whether or not my efforts yield the results that I intended to have. &amp;nbsp;I care if people like me. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I care about my job. &amp;nbsp;I care about people around me. &amp;nbsp;-- I tell myself over and over again that I do not care. Sometimes, I lie to myself so much that I believe it. I tell myself that I can adjust, adapt and that I don't have an personal opinion on things. &amp;nbsp;-- Sometimes these thoughts even come naturally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that I got bitter, turned cold and shut people out was proof that it got to me. &amp;nbsp;I was hurting inside but I just simply refuse to show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess ... I care.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-3771998432538254086?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/3771998432538254086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=3771998432538254086' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3771998432538254086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3771998432538254086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-guess-i-care.html' title='I Guess I Care'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-6610244325114654727</id><published>2011-03-14T23:47:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T00:02:21.275-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sugoi'/><title type='text'>Sugoi Performance Apparel - Calling it as it is</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;It was a crazy busy week last week at work. &amp;nbsp;It's been this busy for a while, sometime I forget to eat, drink, breathe. &amp;nbsp;There are times where I literally find myself holding my breath because I was trying to get something &amp;nbsp;done quickly. I just hope that I don't realize that I am holding my breath too late one day and pass out haha!&amp;nbsp;-- sorry M. I know it's not funny. :s &amp;nbsp;There was more than one occasion where one of the hiring managers or Jen tells me I'm too fast. -- well, isn't that a good thing? &amp;nbsp;I mean, that's what businesses want right?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;In addition to doing things quickly they want it to be done right. I'm doing the best I could. As fast as I could. But I'm just one person and there's only so much I can do in one given hour. Most of the time people have 1 person to report to, for me, how ever many people we are hiring for that's how many people I have to report to. Just like University Professors, they all seem to think that their task for me is the most important and that it's the only thing I've got on my plate. Catering to hiring manager's needs is what my job is about, at times I feel like a Genie, &amp;nbsp;there were more than a few occasions when I wanted to say "your wish is my command" cause it just seem like the perfect thing to say after a request. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;People often come to me to answer their questions and to help them solve their problems. Even for things that are not recruitment related. -- so I brought this up during my 3 month performance review. &amp;nbsp;Jen then changed my title and my job description to have added duties. &amp;nbsp;My title is currently: &lt;u&gt;Recruiter and Human Resource Administrator&lt;/u&gt;. &amp;nbsp;This means that I do, basically, EVERYTHING there is to do in HR. &amp;nbsp;This is ok. &amp;nbsp;I was already doing it, so having the title just means that I can&amp;nbsp;legitimately&amp;nbsp;put that on my resume to be my title and describe all the miscellaneous things I do for the HR department.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;I'm starting to worry about my position or rather, the possibility of my position in the future at Sugoi. I'm into the 2nd half my contract term and I have no idea what they have in store for me. &amp;nbsp;Maybe nothing at all. &amp;nbsp;I've spoken to Jen, she thinks it's too soon to discuss the matter. But I cant afford to not have a job. I cant afford to not earn a income here without the risk of being ushered back to Taiwan. Both my parents have tactics of how they would be able to make me go back to Taiwan.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;- Dad's doing the "No financial aid. Back my daughter into a corner and repeat&amp;nbsp;'have you packed yet' repeatedly&amp;nbsp;so she'll come home" tough-guy / &amp;nbsp;Hypnosis tactic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;- Mom's doing the "I'll cry every time my daughter calls so she'll feel bad and come home" emotional threat tactic.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;I also worry about Sandra and Karen if Sugoi decide to get rid of me. &amp;nbsp;I'm sure I'll be fine finding something else. &amp;nbsp;Worse comes to worse I'll head back to Taiwan for a while, my parents will enjoy that. -- But considering how much I do and it being really a full time busy job. &amp;nbsp;To have my job put on to Karen or Sandra's plate... -- I don't really know what else to say but GOOD LUCK to them both if that happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;ON THE BRIGHT SIDE:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;I'm getting good at my job. &amp;nbsp;I no longer feel self conscious when I'm on the phone with people sitting behind me. Even though she listens in on my&amp;nbsp;conversations&amp;nbsp;and openly comments on it. (I guess that part still makes me uncomfortable.) I know the&amp;nbsp;procedures&amp;nbsp;from front to back. &amp;nbsp;Most of the steps I made it up so why wouldn't I know it? :p &amp;nbsp; I know exactly what to do when we have a open position. There's just a lot to do. &amp;nbsp;I know for a fact that a lot of the job posting's dates are overdue. But i just haven't got the time to change them yet. Like I said, there is only so much I can do. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;I know it seems like I didn't put my heart in writing this post. &amp;nbsp;-- if it's ok, I would like to keep this post as is. &amp;nbsp;I'm not trying to run away, it's just that I've spoken so negatively and emotionally about Sugoi lately that I think it would be nice to have just the facts right now. -- we'll have the angry rant later. :P&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;And with that, i'm going to bed. gotta wake up early tomorrow! - as always on a weekday. -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;x.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"&gt;-B-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-6610244325114654727?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/6610244325114654727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=6610244325114654727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/6610244325114654727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/6610244325114654727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/03/sugoi-performance-apparel-calling-it-as.html' title='Sugoi Performance Apparel - Calling it as it is'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-8564691669825785833</id><published>2011-02-19T02:25:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T02:27:21.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Work &amp; Changes to be Made</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;( ~ Stares ~ )&lt;br /&gt;I've been wanting to write this post forever and now that I've actually have it open, I'm lost for words. &lt;br /&gt;( ~ Sits here staring for another 15 mins ~ ) &lt;br /&gt;I cant seem to know where to start. So many things happen each day it's been so crazy I remember being upset but now ... I don't know exactly why. &amp;nbsp;Isn't that crazy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;One thing I know for sure that I'm upset about is being&amp;nbsp;under appreciated. It's the worse feeling in the world when you are busy and tired everyday. But your direct manager doesn't know what you do on a day to day basis and think that you have a lot of free time on your hands. &amp;nbsp;--&amp;nbsp;For a long while, I was bitter.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;-- It's time to take ownership for this misunderstanding. &amp;nbsp;So far, all I've done is pout and accuse her for not understanding what I do. &amp;nbsp;It is true that she hired me and therefore she should know what my job is. She's the HR Director, she "should" know what our processes are. &amp;nbsp;BUT the fact that she DIDN'T know can't be changed now. All we can do is move forward, and if I want anything to change then I have to take action to make these changes. The fact that she STILL doesn't know what I do is now MY fault because I failed to communicate this to her.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;The 2nd thing I was upset about is the lack of guidance and direction I receive. &amp;nbsp;An extension to this is neglect. I understand that I am on contract, but as long as I am working there I am still an employee and should be treated as such. I have never received any training, I made up the process and did the job to the best of my ability. The best way I know how. But I always feel like I'm scrabbling.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Now I don't want you to think that I'm all complaints when it comes to my job. There are times where I feel like I'm going to kill some one. (ok, maybe most of the time I feel like I wanna kill some one.) But I AM learning a lot from this place. &amp;nbsp;I learned to stand my ground, to push back and question authority, to question people who are higher up in the&amp;nbsp;hierarchal&amp;nbsp;chain. -- for those of you who don't know me too well. &amp;nbsp;This is an impressive improvement for a girl who rarely ever talks back to her parent and still work to please.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;There are many things I would like to change and accomplish here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;I wonder if I could just think positive like before and be okay with living solely on optimism. &amp;nbsp;I may not be able to choose what happens to me, but I can choose how I react, how I deal with it. I truly believe that by choosing to face things with the most positive attitude and acceptance I would be able face the work place with a lighter heart. &amp;nbsp; To stop offering people my heart. &amp;nbsp;As one of my coworkers said "work-friends" is totally different from friends outside work. I have to learn to treat people differently and learn to make that differentiation.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Two more weeks I would be half way done my 6 month contract. As much as I hate interviews and looking for jobs and having to get use to a new environment, leaving is probably the best option for me; for my future and my career. &amp;nbsp;I have never imagine myself doing recruitment as a career and the sooner I get out of it the better because I don't want to be stuck in it. &amp;nbsp;-- I want to move towards a Generalist role and I think I'm ready to take the next step and handle more&amp;nbsp;responsibilities&amp;nbsp;and be more hands-on with other HR&amp;nbsp;functions&amp;nbsp;other than recruitment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;That's all the updates for now. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;There are many changes I believe I can make that would make my life a lot happier and easier. :)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Will update on how they turn out :P.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Promise next post is less narrative. :) &amp;nbsp;-- just find that right now, it's easier on my emotions and temper if I think narratively and logically.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;xoxo&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love lots,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;- B -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-8564691669825785833?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/8564691669825785833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=8564691669825785833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/8564691669825785833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/8564691669825785833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/02/work-changes-to-be-made.html' title='Work &amp; Changes to be Made'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-4962991671359525772</id><published>2011-02-07T22:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T22:17:37.854-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Begining</title><content type='html'>Wow, my last post was a year and a bit ago. If this was a resume I&amp;nbsp;would have taken it to the shredder back in Oct. 2010. (as common practice, we keep candidate's resumes for 1year. )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2011. We can definitely call this year a new beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many life milestones were set in 2010:&lt;br /&gt;- I have graduated from UBC.&lt;br /&gt;- Moved in to my new place.&lt;br /&gt;- Living in Canada all on my own for the very first time.&lt;br /&gt;-&amp;nbsp;Started a New/First Job after Graduation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Graduating: DONE!! thinking back, it seem so long ago.&lt;br /&gt;4th year went by so fast i had no idea where my time all went. &amp;nbsp;i studied hard. partied hard. -- i guess in the end that's all that matters :P &lt;br /&gt;Especially because the Winter Olympics being in Vancouver. it made 2010 more exciting than any other year. I went a little crazy with the Olympic&amp;nbsp;souvenirs, I bought most of the stuffed mascots, My favorite being MukMuk and Quatchi, there are more than 2 for each of them :P &amp;nbsp; shhhh dont tell my mom, she'll freak out, considering we thew out 2 garbage bags of stuffed toys when we moved out of our place in Delta. (hahah) Well... actually, they ddint get "thrown out", my mom kindly donated them -- against my constant protest and pouting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though Graduation seem so long ago. I still often get flash back to that day I graduated and many moments during the 4 years of University. &amp;nbsp;Still, for the life of me, (and Sneha) we cant remember how we came to know each other. We worked backwards from when we first remember we hung out together but neither of us can remember the very first time we met. and HOW. or WHY. This is just one of the many wonderful mysteries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving into a new place, a place of my own, is scary. &amp;nbsp;I'm still not use to it. &amp;nbsp;At times, I really hate it.&lt;br /&gt;It's too quiet and there's no one to talk to. &amp;nbsp;I'm a social bug. &amp;nbsp;I need interaction and conversations. I need hugs I need people. My landlords are nice people. They are loud sometimes. Like yesterday, they were fighting with each other, there were people crying, people yelling and people simply stomping. &amp;nbsp;All i could fully get was the daughter screaming "This Is MY Life." &amp;nbsp;--- and because I am a mean and horrible human-being. The first thing that came to my mind was breaking into a song "It's My liiiiffeee~ it's now or ne-ver! " &amp;nbsp;:S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working at my first job, a company that manufactures high performance sports wear, is &amp;nbsp;a challenge to say the least. The process in which I obtain this job was not without upsetting obstacles. The unsureness i feel about this company still remains, but i refuse to let it drag me down. &amp;nbsp;I'll continue working there and I will be happy about it. &amp;nbsp;I am going to continue looking though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first post about my job and i'm sure there are many posts to come that would have more information on this job and my "fantastic" adventures there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The roller Coaster of emotions I had to endure was discouraging first step into the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;This is just a Short&amp;amp;Sweet summary of the year 2010.&lt;br /&gt;The First Post after being MIA for a year and 3 months&lt;br /&gt;The First Post of the year 2011. &lt;br /&gt;The First Post after Graduation.&lt;br /&gt;The First Post since I started living on my own.&lt;br /&gt;The First Post of Independence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Hopefully not the last. :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-4962991671359525772?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/4962991671359525772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=4962991671359525772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4962991671359525772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4962991671359525772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2011/02/wow-my-last-post-was-year-and-bit-ago.html' title='A New Begining'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-7507441435882778581</id><published>2009-10-28T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T08:11:13.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Schooling Affords Categorization</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Alexander Luria, a founder of the Russian-Historical School of cultural psychology, &lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;interviewed Russian peasants with no formal education.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;The participants were given a list of four objects and they were ask to &lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;identify the one that didn’t belong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Often participants &lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;focused on concrete and practical aspects&lt;/span&gt; of how the objects could be used together, and &lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;did not create any categories&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Example questions&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Participant 1:&lt;/u&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt; - “Hammer, saw, log, hatchet.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Which one doesn’t belong?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“They’re all alike.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I think all of them have to be here.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;See, if you’re going to saw, you need a saw, and if you have to split something you need a hatchet.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;So they’re all needed here.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“Which of these things could you call by one word?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“How’s that?&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;If you call all three of them a ‘hammer,’ that won’t be right either.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“But one fellow picked three things - the hammer, saw, and hatchet- and said they were alike."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“A saw, a hammer, and a hatchet all have to work together.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;But the log has to be here too!”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“Why do you think he picked these three things and not the log?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Probably he’s got a lot of firewood, but if we’ll be left without firewood, we won’t be able to do anything.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Participant 2:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“Hammer, saw, log, hatchet.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Which one doesn’t belong?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“It’s the hammer that doesn’t fit!&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;You can always work with a saw, but a hammer doesn’t always suit the job, there’s only a little you can do with it.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Yet one fellow threw out the log.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;He said the hammer, saw, and hatchet were all alike in some way, but the log is different.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“If we’re getting firewood for the stove, we could get rid of the hammer, but if it’s planks we’re fixing, we can do without the hatchet.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“If you had to put these in some kind of order, could you take the log out of the group?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;"No, if you get rid of the log, what good would the others be?”&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Suppose I put a dog here instead of the log?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;“If it was a mad dog, you could beat it with the hatchet and the hammer and it would die.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;  &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;In sum, many cognitive skills and habits that we are often not aware of, emerge as the product from formal schooling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;    &lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-7507441435882778581?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/7507441435882778581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=7507441435882778581' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7507441435882778581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7507441435882778581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2009/10/schooling-affords-categorization.html' title='Schooling Affords Categorization'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-6192258693269768882</id><published>2009-09-16T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T11:13:48.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>End Summer - Back to School</title><content type='html'>Wow.  Last year.  Scared shitless about it...  but at the same time I am so happy that it's my last year.  :)  GRADUATION YEAH!!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far the classes have been great and i am enjoying every moment of it.  Lets just hope that this enthusiasm continues THROUGHOUT the year. But usually my "happiness level" about being in school dies down around end of October. We'll just have to make sure that it doesnt happen this year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year is going to be different from all the other years.&lt;br /&gt;There are a lot of things i want to do this year, in addition to doing well in school that is. &lt;br /&gt;I want to see all the Theatre shows from UBC students production and Music Concerts.  I want to attend all the interesting seminars, go see Terry Talk (UBC version of TED Talk), .... etc. I just want to do EVERYTHING this year. making most of my last year in University. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the summer I've also picked up on a few things i would like to continue doing during the school year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. &lt;/b&gt;I've started to play piano again. It's great. Learning new pieces and practicing. Each new song learnt is an achievement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2.&lt;/b&gt; I've started to read again, extra curricular books, that is.  I remember how much I loved reading. School reading got in the way, cut down my reading time outside school, and eventually I stopped. My goal this year is to continue, no matter the school load. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. &lt;/b&gt;and as you can see, I've started to write on my blogs again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The "Dark Cloud" hovering over my final month of summer is slowly gliding away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Many Thanks to Frank and Samantha&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, who's been there every step of the way.  Not Judging, always encouraging, understanding, loving, and their possitive attitude regardless of the mistakes i made and my stupidity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Thanks to Jocelyn and Jerrick and Tanja&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; who have ALWAYS been there, All the important moments, listening to me, giving advice, supporting me from MILLIONS of miles away.&amp;nbsp; The distance means NOTHING when you have a friendship like ours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This "Dark Cloud" had thunder, had lightning, had quiet rain, had a silent storm's eye, had forest fires and title waves.  --there were casualties along the way, there are concequences, and left scars that are still healing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am hoping, some day in the near future, i will be able to talk about the contents of this "Dark Cloud".  The "Dark Cloud" changed me. For those of you who had read "A Little More Me, A Little Less Me, Yet I am Still..." Post would have had a LITTLE taste of how confused i was at that point in my life. That particular mistake was only 1/4th of all that's going on in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many thanks to Vera's, it was my safe habour, my temparory eye of the storm. A safe, calm, happy place I can always count on to be safe, calm and happy. A place i can go to temparory forget. They never failed to to tell me how much I was liked there. And though they had no idea what's wrong with me, they have no doubts when it comes to who's side they're on, MINE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank You &lt;br /&gt;- B -&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-6192258693269768882?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/6192258693269768882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=6192258693269768882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/6192258693269768882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/6192258693269768882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2009/09/end-summer-back-to-school.html' title='End Summer - Back to School'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-3913011594707897433</id><published>2009-09-05T04:26:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T18:36:00.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Understanding</title><content type='html'>You: "knowing and understanding some one are two very different things" &lt;br /&gt;I have never thought about that. But, now to think of it, i would say that's only partly true. &lt;br /&gt;They're not totally different. To know some one doesnt necessarily mean you understand them. But i would assume you would have to know them first, before you can understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You: "Who would you say knows you?" &lt;br /&gt;without a doubt, without missing a beat, I replied: "Tanja, Jocelyn, Jerrick, Frank, Milan, and Sneha.  And pretty much in that order of familiarity too." Some are really close calls, some with huge gaps, but if i was to put them in some form of order, i guess that would be it.&lt;br /&gt;But could i tell you with the same confidence and certainty that they also understand me? --No, I could not. &lt;br /&gt;Some of these people being in my life the way they are, is a fiction I Made/Force come true.  My only leverage is my presistance and their love for me, for some, it still baffles me to see how much they care. &lt;br /&gt;These people knows me, my moods, my likes/dislikes, my obsessions, my emotions, my hobbies,... &lt;br /&gt;These people knows me, my reaction, my opinions, my decisions, and even my indecisions.&lt;br /&gt;These people knows me, my personality, my career dreams, what i should be doing, what i shouldnt.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, these people knows me, better than I know me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these people takes up an important role in my life.&lt;br /&gt;Tanja the Babysitter, Jocelyn the understanding companion, Jerrick the logical rationalist, Frank the solution giver, Milan the supporter, and Sneha the sympathetic listener. &lt;br /&gt;Of course, it is not the only role they each take on in my life, often they take on other ppl's roles and then some. &lt;br /&gt;To say the least, they care about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were there to lend a comforting shoulder, to offer a warm understanding embrace, most important thing of all, the one they proved themselves true time and time again, They were not people i could simply chase away. &lt;br /&gt;Becase they KNOW I need them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Does that mean they understand me?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When does Knowing become Understanding? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the time i dont understand you and i dare not say I do. But I do want to get to know you, i want to, on some level, understand you.  -- If only you would let me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You: "sometimes communication doesnt help understanding."&lt;br /&gt;I beg to differ.  &lt;br /&gt;-- sometimes-- it depends if you want to.  Willingness to undersatnd goes a long way. &lt;br /&gt;-- sometimes-- it start with accepting and acknowledging their decisions and actions. As well as respecting it.&lt;br /&gt;-- sometimes-- checking your own emotions, preconceptions, prejudice, and attitude at the door goes with the package.&lt;br /&gt;-- sometimes-- it is pointless to try and understand everything because, &lt;br /&gt;-- sometimes-- even the person themselves may not fully understand why they did, what they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accpeting with no judgement, with a sincere smile, with an open mind, with support and encouragement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unconditional love = Understanding  (?)&lt;br /&gt;almost sounds like it, doesnt it?  -- But then, there's more to it.&lt;br /&gt;I guess, it will have to do, --to start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-3913011594707897433?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/3913011594707897433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=3913011594707897433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3913011594707897433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3913011594707897433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2009/09/understanding.html' title='Understanding'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-3399930565623515522</id><published>2009-08-31T21:17:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T22:24:08.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little More Me, A Little Less Me, Yet I am Still...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" http-equiv="Content-Type"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;meta content="Word.Document" name="ProgId"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Generator"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;meta content="Microsoft Word 12" name="Originator"&gt;&lt;/meta&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CSandy%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CSandy%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx" rel="themeData"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;link href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CSandy%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml" rel="colorSchemeMapping"&gt;&lt;/link&gt;&lt;style&gt;&lt;!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face	{font-family:新細明體;	panose-1:2 2 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;	mso-font-alt:PMingLiU;	mso-font-charset:136;	mso-generic-font-family:roman;	mso-font-pitch:variable;	mso-font-signature:-1610611969 684719354 22 0 1048577 0;}@font-face	{font-family:"Cambria Math";	panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;	mso-font-charset:0;	mso-generic-font-family:roman;	mso-font-pitch:variable;	mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1107304683 0 0 159 0;}@font-face	{font-family:Calibri;	panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;	mso-font-charset:0;	mso-generic-font-family:swiss;	mso-font-pitch:variable;	mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;}@font-face	{font-family:"\@新細明體";	panose-1:2 2 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;	mso-font-charset:136;	mso-generic-font-family:roman;	mso-font-pitch:variable;	mso-font-signature:-1610611969 684719354 22 0 1048577 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal	{mso-style-unhide:no;	mso-style-qformat:yes;	mso-style-parent:"";	margin:0cm;	margin-bottom:.0001pt;	mso-pagination:none;	font-size:12.0pt;	mso-bidi-font-size:11.0pt;	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-fareast-font-family:新細明體;	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;	mso-font-kerning:1.0pt;}.MsoChpDefault	{mso-style-type:export-only;	mso-default-props:yes;	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} /* Page Definitions */ @page	{mso-page-border-surround-header:no;	mso-page-border-surround-footer:no;}@page Section1	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt;	margin:72.0pt 90.0pt 72.0pt 90.0pt;	mso-header-margin:42.55pt;	mso-footer-margin:49.6pt;	mso-paper-source:0;	layout-grid:18.0pt;}div.Section1	{page:Section1;}--&gt;&lt;/style&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Something happened this summer,&amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;I did Something this summer,&amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Something I never wish to repeat&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Something I'm not proud of.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;But because of this experience, I grew up a little.&amp;nbsp;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;New perspective, New outlook on (lol, not life) men and relationships.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;A little more realistic view&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;A little more scared because of the reality I see&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;A little more cruel, for my defense mechanism&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;A little more heartless, because it hurts too much to care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;A little less of that Sandy y'all used to know. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;A little less of that Sandy y'all used to pat on the head&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;A little less of that Sandy y'all used to hug and protect  &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;A little less of that Sandy y'all used to say "she doesn't know, lets keep it that way"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;A little less of that Sandy y'all Still to call "Bubbles" -- for many different reasons.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;But at the same time, I'm still that Bubbles y'all love and adore.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;(--Dont argue with that phrase, you know, on some level, in some twisted way, with certain definition of Love, y'all love me and adore me. and you care or else you wouldnt be reading this. Am I right?)&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;I still shut my eyes and cover my ears whenever a scary movie trailer comes on TV.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;I still refuse to watch scary movies &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;I still cry by just watching something as small as a sad music video&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;I still have to fight back the tears when I see homeless kids on the streets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;I still get Very uncomfortable when I have to say "No." or to decline anything that isn't out of politness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;I still pour my heart out to my best friends&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;I still trust in the goodness of people and their intentions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;I still care just a little too much about people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;When it comes to the core and heart of me, no one else could understand me more than y'all.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;There are still many things I do not know,&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;There are still many things I do not understand,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;There are still many things I do not like knowing,&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Things that make me uncomfortable,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Things that make me close my eyes and cover my ears.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;But I intend to find out now, stepping out of my comfort zone,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;out of your protection, out of my Bubble&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;( --Before you jump at the idea, scary movies are still Off Limits.--)&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;After all that, y'all understand what I'm trying to tell ya?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;No? that's ok.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;The point is, I've changed. (for the better, I hope.)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;But still yours truely.&amp;nbsp; -- Very much so.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-ZMi3OtZmCo/SpyefHUFOYI/AAAAAAAAABY/OXzj-S_kXdI/s1600-h/DSC04659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="95" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-ZMi3OtZmCo/SpyefHUFOYI/AAAAAAAAABY/OXzj-S_kXdI/s200/DSC04659.JPG" width="127" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;XOXO&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;- B -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #674ea7; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-3399930565623515522?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/3399930565623515522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=3399930565623515522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3399930565623515522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3399930565623515522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-more-me-little-less-me-yet-i-am.html' title='A Little More Me, A Little Less Me, Yet I am Still...'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-ZMi3OtZmCo/SpyefHUFOYI/AAAAAAAAABY/OXzj-S_kXdI/s72-c/DSC04659.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-3613043066723200922</id><published>2008-09-29T16:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T01:59:50.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Unspeakable --One</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Studying in UBC have always been... One of my dreams&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But studying here... i've come to terms with becoming some one I never knew I COULD become&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Cold hearted bitch to ppl I dont care about / ppl i dislike, but appearently warm and loving at the same time to them.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The plan scheming, self preserving, ppl sabotaging, low-life kind of person i've always been afraid of.   those kind of ppl I HATE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've become one of THEM. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of whom knew me from before may be shocked (or not) and wonder where your old Sandy went.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wonder the same thing.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All i know is that She's scared... she's hating every inch of this new person she is becoming and she dont know how to turn back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;she wants to survive here, to get through without getting hurt, and she see no alternative ways to do this, but become Cold Hearted and Bitter in every way possible. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This came to her as a hammer to the head, when her close friend, presumebly bestfriend here in UBC. chatted with (for convinience sake) GuyA, with friendly gustures, extended invitation and light touches on the arm.   only to turn to me at the end of the conversation when the guy had walked away to say,  "I Fucken Hate That Guy."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This stirred up a few thoughts.  first of all... just a couple of days ago she was telling me how she does not miss (in fact she is glad ) that one of her close friends last year didnt come back to UBC this year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1st Horrifying thought that i made plans with GuyB that i have no intention to keep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2nd Horrifying thought, if she could do this with GuyA, and with her close friend, what does she REALLY think of me?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3rd Horrifying thought,   i'm a horrible person to even think that she isnt a real friend, but yet. i cant help wondering... and doubting...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-3613043066723200922?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/3613043066723200922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=3613043066723200922' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3613043066723200922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3613043066723200922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2008/09/unspeakable-one.html' title='The Unspeakable --One'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-2454031401199101195</id><published>2008-05-21T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T07:05:27.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Baby Niece</title><content type='html'>I am so very happy to be able to meet my baby niece.  she is 2 months old and she absolutely adorable.   though she is just a baby, i can tell she LOVES me!! she would be all fussy, moving around and all.  or she would be annoyed but as soon as i held her she would stop fussing and smile. &lt;br /&gt;when she fuss, i dont mean crying, she doesnt cry that much. such a good baby~ &lt;br /&gt;she would just move around a lot when you hold her, or show that she's uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;amazing thing is that she sleeps through the night, she would want to be feed at 4a.m. like all babies, but as soon as she's been feed she would go back to bed.   making her working parent's life so easy. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I havent seen her for 4 days.   i miss her like crazy...  i wanna steal her and bring her to canada with me!! wahhaha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working like crazy... work is busy and i'm so very tired..., every day!!  (sobb.)  &lt;br /&gt;this is so not a  vacation!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-2454031401199101195?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/2454031401199101195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=2454031401199101195' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/2454031401199101195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/2454031401199101195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-baby-niece.html' title='My Baby Niece'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-5457566113274477089</id><published>2008-04-17T13:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T14:01:14.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Success!!!!</title><content type='html'>ooooooooo look ~~  Look what Bubbles did down there!! wooooo!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-5457566113274477089?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/5457566113274477089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=5457566113274477089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/5457566113274477089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/5457566113274477089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2008/04/ooooooooo-look-look-what-bubbles-did.html' title='Success!!!!'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-3601886346361811927</id><published>2008-04-17T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T14:00:40.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trial~~Will it Work?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="left: 0px ! important; top: 0px ! important;" title="Click here to block this object with Adblock Plus" class="abp-objtab-034511463022546407 visible" href="http://audio.xanga.com/mp3embedplayer.swf?c=2&amp;amp;i=2121839&amp;amp;m=4c052"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;embed style="width: 400px; height: 80px;" src="http://audio.xanga.com/mp3embedplayer.swf?c=2&amp;amp;i=2121839&amp;amp;m=4c052" wmode="opaque" bgcolor="#ffffff" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-3601886346361811927?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/3601886346361811927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=3601886346361811927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3601886346361811927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3601886346361811927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post.html' title='Trial~~Will it Work?'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-160276577568061769</id><published>2008-04-17T13:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T13:55:50.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ok ~&lt;br /&gt;so ... bubbles figure out how to put songs on the Blogger site THROUGH Xanga lol...&lt;br /&gt;coool eh.  ~  but it cant be a blog post it has to be a section all on it's own.&lt;br /&gt;also mean that Bubbles can only have one song at a time on the website.&lt;br /&gt;but Bubbles guess it's better than nothing...&lt;br /&gt;Wait,  Bubbles just thought of something.. if Bubbles can do this... then... can Bubbles just post the song code directly on to a blog post entry? would that work?&lt;br /&gt;let Bubbles try a try.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-160276577568061769?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/160276577568061769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=160276577568061769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/160276577568061769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/160276577568061769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2008/04/ok-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-4395224252992058994</id><published>2008-04-12T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T22:05:02.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Heart</title><content type='html'>My heart is not where it wants to be,&lt;br /&gt;It keep telling me so...i chose to ignore it,&lt;br /&gt;but all i want now is to be free,&lt;br /&gt;to stop feeling so confused, to stop struggling.&lt;br /&gt;if only i was brave enough to step up.&lt;br /&gt;to step up and tell the world what my heart screams out each night.&lt;br /&gt;every night dream of the future i desire,&lt;br /&gt;when i wake up each morning and realize it was all a dream,&lt;br /&gt;i return to my usual routine, with no enthusiasm, no courage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've been waiting for some one to come and force me to take action&lt;br /&gt;i know that wont happen. but i wish....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i could handle this...&lt;br /&gt;i ignored my honest friends and loving teachers and my caring aunt,&lt;br /&gt;and i stumbled into this world, where people and things are cold and distant.&lt;br /&gt;a world that seem so shallow and emotionless.&lt;br /&gt;a world in which i do not belong. &lt;br /&gt;now all i want is out.  to run away.&lt;br /&gt;but i have no energy, no courage to make any more changes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-4395224252992058994?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/4395224252992058994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=4395224252992058994' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4395224252992058994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4395224252992058994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-heart.html' title='My Heart'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-3915466616421730368</id><published>2008-03-15T18:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T01:40:22.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255);"&gt;世界上最傻的人, 明知道他眼中沒有自己…卻還是死心踏地的愛他。&lt;br /&gt;the world's silliest person, is knowing there is no you in his heart, but still love him the way you do.&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人,  他可以沒有自己…自己卻還是不能沒有他。&lt;br /&gt;The world's silliest person, he can live without, but you can't live without him.&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人, 愛的苦、愛的痛、愛的累，卻還要堅持去愛。&lt;br /&gt;The world's silliest person, love is bitter, love is painful, love is tiring, but you still keep loving&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人,  明明他就在你的旁邊…卻還是不告白。&lt;br /&gt;The world's silliest person, is knowing that he's right there be side you, but doesnt have the guts to tell him you love him&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人,  不在乎自己會傷的有多麼重...卻在乎他是否快樂。&lt;br /&gt;The world's silliest person, doesnt care how much you are hurting, but is concerned whether or not he is happy.&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人,  只會關心著他事情…卻不懂得多愛自己一點。&lt;br /&gt;The world's silliest person, only cares about him, but doesnt know how to love yourself more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-3915466616421730368?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/3915466616421730368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=3915466616421730368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3915466616421730368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3915466616421730368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2008/03/worlds-silliest-person-is-knowing-there.html' title=''/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-4333229103463187823</id><published>2008-01-22T14:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T20:14:34.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Every Girl Has Her Own Charm</title><content type='html'>"every girl has her own charm"&lt;br /&gt;some girl has that Sexy thing&lt;br /&gt;some girl has that Cute thing&lt;br /&gt;some girl has that Smart thing ... etc.&lt;br /&gt;i've got Nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-4333229103463187823?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/4333229103463187823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=4333229103463187823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4333229103463187823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4333229103463187823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2008/01/every-girl-has-her-own-charm.html' title='Every Girl Has Her Own Charm'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-7069896196844415453</id><published>2007-12-28T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T20:12:35.091-08:00</updated><title type='text'>世界上最傻的人</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;世界上最傻的人, 明知道他眼中沒有自己…卻還是死心踏地的愛他。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人,  他可以沒有自己…自己卻還是不能沒有他。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人, 愛的苦、愛的痛、愛的累，卻還要堅持去愛。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人,  明明他就在你的旁邊…卻還是不告白。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人, 即使心裡不願意...卻還是會誠心祝福他幸福。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人,  永遠只會看著他和別人快樂,自己卻每晚躲在棉被裡哭泣。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人, 掩飾自己對他的情感不說...眼睜睜看著他對別人好。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人,  不在乎自己會傷的有多麼重...卻在乎他是否快樂。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人, 只在乎他到底快不快樂，卻不在乎自己有多難過。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人,  只會關心著他事情…卻不懂得多愛自己一點。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人, 是只會一廂情願的人。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人, 是不求他回報自己的人。&lt;br /&gt;世界上最傻的人,  是愛他說不出口的人。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204); font-weight: bold;"&gt;我就是世界上最傻的人&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-7069896196844415453?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/7069896196844415453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=7069896196844415453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7069896196844415453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7069896196844415453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2007/12/blog-post.html' title='世界上最傻的人'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-4105248424877375926</id><published>2007-12-20T00:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T09:09:00.557-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tired Day At Work</title><content type='html'>Today, i started work at 11am, i work with 2 other guys, one of which is my boss.  and the other is one of those 'big brother' figure for me. so i was really happy working the first shift.&lt;br /&gt;Usually when ppl work double shifts, the night ppl know, and will cut you some slack and not ask you to do a lot at night.&lt;br /&gt;but the guy i worked with tonight night was... sigh. well...&lt;br /&gt;simply put.   i can barely keep my smile to the customers (barely... but i managed).  nearing the end of the night shift i had to lean against the counter to ease the pain of my back and feet.&lt;br /&gt;(job requires me to keep standing, so working for 12 hrs means standing for 12 hrs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i asked him to do something, he would stroll around til i got tired of  waiting and go do it myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at some point i would kneel down to get something in the lower drawers and wish i could kneel like that for a while longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know u are REALLY tired when kneeling becomes a luxury.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-4105248424877375926?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/4105248424877375926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=4105248424877375926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4105248424877375926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4105248424877375926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2007/12/tired-day-at-work.html' title='Tired Day At Work'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-7286467620817021156</id><published>2007-12-11T00:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T00:20:54.761-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The Leo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Great talker. Attractive and passionate. Laid back. Usually happy, but when unhappy tend to be grouchy and childish. A leo's problem becomes everyone's problem. Most Leos are very predictable and tend to be monotonous. Knows how to have fun. Is really good at almost anything. Great kisser. Very predictable. Outgoing. Down to earth. Addictive. Attractive. Loud. Loves being in long relationships. Talkative. Not one to mess with. Rare to find. Good when found.&lt;/p&gt;Yup! that's a Leo alright~ totally me!!!~ &lt;br /&gt;well i dont know about being a    &lt;strong&gt;Great kisser &lt;/strong&gt;or &lt;strong&gt;Addictive&lt;/strong&gt; or not.&lt;br /&gt;but absolutely &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Out Going&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, and &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loves Being in Long Relationships&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt; and totally &lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Talkative&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not some one u wanna mess with!! haha  (definately good when found hehe)&lt;br /&gt;just a little heads up~.  &lt;br /&gt;:P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-7286467620817021156?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/7286467620817021156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=7286467620817021156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7286467620817021156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7286467620817021156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2007/12/leo.html' title=''/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-4906476490772842874</id><published>2007-11-20T17:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T17:51:35.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nov. 20th 2007~  !!</title><content type='html'>Nov. 20th 2007~~&lt;br /&gt;Hummm it started off as a very aweful midnight hw session.&lt;br /&gt;Economics was driving me crazy...  been working on this assignment for quite a while... 2 weeks to be exact. and well Wednesday (tomorrow) is the due date.   So i was making final adjustments and etc.    and our very lame(but nice and goood) professor ask us to type up our assignments.. so i was trying to make all sorts of formulas and equations, and formating appear on my stupid hw.&lt;br /&gt;That was my awful Tuesday 2am.&lt;br /&gt;Finally finished, and got into bed at 3am and decided it wasn't worth the effort to attend my morning class. ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--zzZZzz--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept in until 10, showered and got ready for work...&lt;br /&gt;was in a very grumpy mood. ~   Got to Vera's (place where i work)&lt;br /&gt;Said a quick hello to my boss. and went straight to the back to see what i could do that doesnt involve me having to deal with the customers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shahin(my boss), however,  was in a extremely happy mood today.  Started Dancing and singing around me.  he's always been silly, but today was even more so.&lt;br /&gt;he asked me to do the recycling, i was glad i could, (means i could go and take as long as i want flattening the cardboard all on my own.... no customers) &lt;br /&gt;Yes very Dark and unhappy Sandy at that moment. ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one thing about working at Vera's,  ppl are so nice there, and Shahin is so polite and silly it is hard to stay grumpy even if u were having a bad day....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so as i worked, my mood got better~     then Shahin put in a DVD (i dont know what it was) into our flat screen TV,  and it was showing ppl who cant dance but is dancing hah!   look sooo funny, that got me laughing.    i guess shahin notice my unusually quiet mood and point at me and said "look JP (my coworker) i made her laugh!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we take ur order we ask for ur name and when ur order is ready we call out ur name for u to pick it up at the counter.&lt;br /&gt;~~  so later on that night,  this guy in his mid 20's came in with his friend and ordered.  JP took the order, and i was making the food... she turned to me and told me i have to say the guy's name really loud..  i didnt get what she was saying at first coz i always make sure our customers can hear me and come get their order...&lt;br /&gt; not until i had to call out the name for the order i realised...&lt;br /&gt;the name was:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;               "Sexy Pants"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol~  i turned to JP and asked.  are u serious?   she said yea, Dead serious. really loud plz.&lt;br /&gt;so i called "Sexy Pants"   and this guy turned around and grinned and ask "SORRY!?!? I CANT HEAR YOU WHAT'S THAT? Louder plz!!"&lt;br /&gt;So i YELLED... "SEXY PANTS"&lt;br /&gt;and he went "ohh!  that's gotta be me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next customer thought that was funny and decided to do a name of his own....&lt;br /&gt;and called himself "Sir Cocks A Lot"...&lt;br /&gt;i ....sigh...  ppl.. you should see my face after that Sexy pants episode.. it was Pink..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now with this Sir Cocks A Lot, my face was BURNING HOT....  not coz of the name but coz they are forcing me to scream those things out....&lt;br /&gt;i've gotta say,,, Vera's a VERY VERY good restarant  so needless to say it was a full house packed with ppl grinning at me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but after that, i could no longer keep a straight face.  my day ended with me here, now, grinning to myself as i write about my Not So Average Day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-4906476490772842874?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/4906476490772842874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=4906476490772842874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4906476490772842874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4906476490772842874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2007/11/nov-20th-2007.html' title='Nov. 20th 2007~  !!'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-3535824416853917845</id><published>2007-10-22T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T14:02:35.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;It is sad when some one who you find comfort and understanding in, become the source of your confusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;It is painful to watch the person you loved being with, become the person you hid from.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;It is frustrating to think that, through your best efforts to salvage what is left of your friendship, that person could not care less about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;It’s agony and torture to the soul, heart and mind, when all 3 causes of your unhappiness, is from one single person, and one person only.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-3535824416853917845?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/3535824416853917845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=3535824416853917845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3535824416853917845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3535824416853917845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2007/10/it-is-sad-when-some-one-who-you-find.html' title=''/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-8237602579899027046</id><published>2007-09-17T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T03:03:16.714-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I wanna Feel...</title><content type='html'>I wanna feel "love",&lt;br /&gt;like Ryan Loves Marissa (in The OC)&lt;br /&gt;like Seth Loves Summer (in The OC)&lt;br /&gt;like Derick Loves Merideth (in the 3rd Season of Grey's Anatomy)&lt;br /&gt;like Clark Loves Lana (in Smallville)&lt;br /&gt;like Ross Loves Rachel (in Friends)&lt;br /&gt;like 五阿哥 Loves 小燕子&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some one who thinks I'm worth the Effort,&lt;br /&gt;Some one who would sit in the rain for hours, just so that they could talk to me&lt;br /&gt;Some one who wants to protect me&lt;br /&gt;Some one who wants to be there for me through good times and bad&lt;br /&gt;Some one who would tell me to expect him to be there, and be there.&lt;br /&gt;Some one who doesnt quit on "us" the second we run into problems&lt;br /&gt;Some one who believes I'm worth the effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna feel the rush&lt;br /&gt;I wanna feel the racing of my heart when "he" walks into the room.&lt;br /&gt;I wanna feel myself blushing&lt;br /&gt;I wanna feel like I cant help myself smiling&lt;br /&gt;I wanna feel safe, secure, and charished&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna cuddle&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be able to make "him" feel happier when i am near&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be able to lean against him&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be able to trust "him", and "him", me.&lt;br /&gt;I wanna be able to feel him near&lt;br /&gt;feel he cares, feel he wanna care, feel he will care and take initiative to care...&lt;br /&gt;(yes, they are different..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;我不需要天涯海角,  我不需要天長地久. 我只要現在擁有&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anything,&lt;br /&gt;I wanna feel "love"  (what ever that may be)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-8237602579899027046?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/8237602579899027046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=8237602579899027046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/8237602579899027046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/8237602579899027046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-wanna-feel.html' title='I wanna Feel...'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-9174468109474928872</id><published>2007-08-20T01:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T01:57:43.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I Cant believe… sigh…&lt;br /&gt;“If you have some time, you wanna do something?”&lt;br /&gt;after months and months of shutting me out, pushing me away AND ignoring me…&lt;br /&gt;how can some one be so cold?   I tried to talk to him… and the funny thing is that I didn't even know him, haven't even met the guy. But I want this friendship to work. He was the first guy I could talk to when I came to Canada.   We talked for hours, we were friends, great friends.&lt;br /&gt;Then one day he told me he had feelings for me, I was shocked, but I didn't run away.&lt;br /&gt;I stayed where I was, I didn't change, I talked how I use to, I acted the way I use to.&lt;br /&gt;Then, a week later he said he was hurting, by this other girl. His ex.   --A week!!!  And said he needed some time.&lt;br /&gt;He remind me so much of this Korean ASS I “kinda” dated, a DAMN week.. &lt;br /&gt;How could any one do that to another person?  If they didn't mean it, why do they say it?  Why? It doesn't make any sense, it just doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Months and Months Later…&lt;br /&gt;Now when the time is convenient for him he asks me if I have time, if I wanna do something with him.  After all this time, ignoring me.  After all this time.&lt;br /&gt;What did he expect? That I just pretended all the absence in the middle didn't happen?  That I was ok with all the ignoring?  He didn't explain, he didn't do anything. Just asked me if I wanna do something, if I was bored.  Why does he fricken care if I was bored?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of all these lies ppl tell me.  Told me they care when they don't.  Told me they like me when they don't.  Told me they'll take care of me when they know they wont.  Told me that they'll be there for me when they don't want to. &lt;br /&gt;I'm tired.&lt;br /&gt;I hate it but I cant seem to cut these ppl out.  I tried to quit Daniel and claimed that I did.  But. I haven't.  to be perfectly honest, I haven't.  it's killing me.  But I haven't, and that's the reason it is killing me, it's coz I haven't. I still wish that one day he would come say hi. You know just the casual saying hi.  So far no such luck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back at some point i had two "bros" now i've got a guy who couldnt care less if he tried but still make small talk once in a while.  and another who likes pretending i dont exsist.&lt;br /&gt;that worked out great...   sigh.   &lt;br /&gt;Emotion is a stupid thing. wish i had none of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-9174468109474928872?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/9174468109474928872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=9174468109474928872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/9174468109474928872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/9174468109474928872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-cant-believe-sigh-if-you-have-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-8768468635750532156</id><published>2007-08-06T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T20:50:55.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Taiwanese Side of Sandy: Her All Time Favorites</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#000099;"&gt;All Time Favorite Chinese TV series: 還珠格格 &lt;br /&gt;Watched the first two seasons 5 times and still haven't got tired of it yet!!&lt;br /&gt;All Time Favorite Chinese Actor: 蘇有朋 (from TW)&lt;br /&gt;All Time Favorite Chinese Actresses: 趙薇(China) ，林心如(TW)&lt;br /&gt;All Time Favorite Chinese Singers: 羅志祥(TW) ， 張韶涵(TW) ， 林俊傑 ， 王力宏(TW)&lt;br /&gt;All Time Favorite Chinese Food: 雞湯麵&lt;br /&gt;All Time Favorite Chinese Quote: 山無稜  天地合  才敢與君絕&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Me, Chinese is a language full of passion, love, 是能讓一對情人之間最能了解的語言  雖然許多時候, 中國人常說 一切竟在不言中.  但是我覺得, 如果感情的事沒有辦法用中文來表達的話, 那其他的語言也不用說了&lt;br /&gt;只有用中文我才能夠灑嬌 能夠裝可愛  能夠讓我孩子氣的一面顯示出來&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;用英文這些是 一點都不通  我一直認為 英文是一個很嚴肅的語言  是一個很straightforward, 很action driven 的語言   就比如說 我看英文的愛情片/ 連戲劇 一直都是 I Love You? 接下來不會多說一定就是動作來表示他有多愛 Of course I dont mean kissing and making love.  我也在說為愛的人做的一切  there is action, but rarely taking of how these action should be taken.  But I guess it should be explained as being realistic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;可是在看中文的愛情片 裡中的愛情  花言巧語 甜言蜜語 種種不少&lt;br /&gt;再加上 天盟海誓    天涯海角    天長地久   白頭偕老    這些聽起來多麼動人&lt;br /&gt;許多時候 每個人聽了這些話 除了動人之外   還有想像空間    讓自己的心為電視螢幕裡的主角動搖&lt;br /&gt;心動的程度, 想像的空間 比任何導演的畫面都強烈阿&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;再說, 你在會演電影 也演不出 天盟海誓 白頭偕老 獨一無二 的畫面阿&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;就算 "盡在不言中" 這也是英文最好的解釋和翻譯 也翻譯不出中文簡簡單單的這幾個字的強烈意思  When translated into English, it becomes long-winded, and wordy.  No longer express the passion, appreciation and strength of the 5 simple word it was in Chinese.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-8768468635750532156?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/8768468635750532156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=8768468635750532156' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/8768468635750532156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/8768468635750532156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2007/08/taiwanese-side-of-sandy-her-all-time.html' title='Taiwanese Side of Sandy: Her All Time Favorites'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-7753123890374962547</id><published>2007-03-17T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T22:55:26.653-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I turned around today and found the ugliness of the world. I turned around and see the poor, the starved, the angered and the unhappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look ahead and the right of me and see hope, dreams, smiles and those of the past i took with me. My friends and family, my fav. ppl in the world, my life, and my supporters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look behind me of me and see all the things I left behind, willingly, those whom I abandoned and those who abandoned me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked on the left of me and see all the things I dream of having, those who urge me to abandon but i refuse to let go... those of whom i ought to delete from my msn list but couldnt... pulling them along side of me. -- these are the events, objects, and ppl that allow me to taste the different tastes of life, the shocks...the supprises.. and of course the pressure, and pain-- the burden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked at my contact list on MSN yet again... maybe it is time to let go of my heaviest burden, the one which gave me the most pain and greif.  But, this line, is so hard to cut, after all we've been through.   i felt like i should write an email, to say that i'm sorry, to say that i hate the way we've ended up, to say that i dont want this to end, to say that i wish we could be close again like we used to...  but how will i start? will it work? will it ever be the same again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a Lighter and Happier Note.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to a Formal Masquerade Party tomorrow.   I am Excited and Scared.&lt;br /&gt;i have an Awesome Mask (not lame halloween mask) a real Masquerade mask with feathers and everything lol ~ it's so damn cool..&lt;br /&gt;i have a beautiful long floor sweeping Black dress.&lt;br /&gt;and a beautiful lady like watch.   so i know when midnight is. ~ haha!!&lt;br /&gt;sigh... ~  so much excitment, and so much fear.  very mixed feeling. lol&lt;br /&gt;at least i will have friends to go with me.  ~  i when i know when i will be protected.. just like back in SSIS.   &lt;br /&gt;the only differences between here and SSIS are the different ppl, and in SSIS iKNOW and i trust ppl around me to take care of me. here i have to convince myself so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss being able to act younger than my age... i miss being able to act myself.&lt;br /&gt;it's not to say that i dont like the new me.. but, it's new.  and it doesnt feel "me".&lt;br /&gt;but again, i'm like this so often, it feels like it IS me...&lt;br /&gt;i change, but i prefer the old me.  can ppl change into some one they dont wanna be?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-7753123890374962547?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/7753123890374962547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=7753123890374962547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7753123890374962547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7753123890374962547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-turned-around-today-and-found.html' title=''/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-6859791433696688354</id><published>2007-02-07T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T16:55:14.427-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dark And Scary Secrets #2</title><content type='html'>Things sometimes are not what they seem to be, people are sometimes are not who they claim to be. Things change, people change. I don't expect you to be any different.&lt;br /&gt;I am giving you a chance to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that there are times when you think that I am a bump in your smooth road. That's why I am letting you go. I can take care of myself, i can!,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I claim that I cant, to hold on to something/some one that doesn't belong to me. You allow me to think that I need to be taken care of, you allow me to become ur liability. I thank you for that, but I know one day you will want to go and explore the world of your own with out having to consult me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I've chased away many jealous gfs, you've always laugh and said that they just didn't know who they are dealing with. I laughed with you and agreed. But lets face it… how long are you willing to hang on to me / let me hang on to you… how long/ how many amazing girls are you willing to see me just simply chase away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, this amazing relationship between you and I, will never compare to having a gf. We grew up together. Our moms grew up together. And we will always see each other, always have each other. No relationship is closer than one bonded by blood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those jealous gfs KNOW (well they better…) that they are your gfs and not me. They just cant stand the fact that you put me as your top priority. I confess that it feels good to be priority in some one's life. actually not just good, it is GREAT.&lt;br /&gt;And I know once I let you go, things might start to drift apart. Things will change. And I know that my little sport at top of the list will slowly slip downwards… but this has to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also know that you will always be there for me if and when I need you. But right now, (other than the fact that I am overstressed) my life is well on its way, so should yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You told me that you wont let go of my hand, until I let go of yours.&lt;br /&gt;Well… now I'm letting go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm writing here because I am not ready to tell you this yet… But I know that day is soon to come… For your good and for mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-6859791433696688354?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/6859791433696688354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=6859791433696688354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/6859791433696688354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/6859791433696688354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2007/02/things-sometimes-are-not-what-they-seem.html' title='My Dark And Scary Secrets #2'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-9179055285294972698</id><published>2007-01-02T21:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T21:23:52.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my dark and scary secret #1</title><content type='html'>i kept all his secrets. i kept it even from my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;i didnt breath a word to any one about things he doesnt want me to tell. and he turns around, for no reason and pushed me out... worse, he said he cant tell me things because i'll tell everyone. that hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is different... so different it hurt. he gets ppl close enough to the door than slams it right in their face. ok maybe not Ppl.. but at least. Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was the only.. and i mean ONLY person he talked to about his feelings, and what-nots for a little while.. He Came to me for Advise, HE was the one who asked me to get closer to him. HE was the one who invited me TO HIM. HE was the one who CLAIMs that he was gonna be my bro and take care of me. I took all those things he said and do very seriously. i treat all my friends VERY seriously. but&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HE...is also the one who BROKE all of those promises and slamed the door in my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was in shock... i tried to open the door to get close to him. but all i do is open the door wide enough each time so that he can slam it shut again.&lt;br /&gt;In my face,&lt;br /&gt;And each time it hurt more and more. it's like cutting urself again and again, and like putting salt on a open cut. it's painful... so painful that each time i think about it i scream with agony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now. i'm walking away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The door is closed forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's locked from my side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've thrown away the keys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"&gt;There is only 4 friends who can hurt me and cause so much pain and damage,&lt;br /&gt;he's the first of the 4. i hope he's also the last.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-9179055285294972698?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/9179055285294972698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=9179055285294972698' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/9179055285294972698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/9179055285294972698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2007/01/my-dark-and-scary-secret-1.html' title='my dark and scary secret #1'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-4497979757058268853</id><published>2006-12-19T17:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T17:16:19.359-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair Color</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD" align=center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your Hair Should Be Purple&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatsyourfunkyinnerhaircolorquiz/purple.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intense, thoughtful, and unconventional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're always philosophizing and inspiring others with your insights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourfunkyinnerhaircolorquiz/"&gt;What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?&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/374522050531088192-4497979757058268853?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/4497979757058268853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=4497979757058268853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4497979757058268853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/4497979757058268853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2006/12/hair-color.html' title='Hair Color'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-3313625999949355750</id><published>2006-12-11T20:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T00:07:39.653-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Updates~ For now.</title><content type='html'>Well, i dont know what has got into me. i guess i am just a bit stressed out&lt;br /&gt;one of the side effects of stress is being overly emotional... and for those of u who knows me quite well will know that i am emotional, regardless whether or not i am under stress or pressure. so can even begin to imagen the state i am in now? i can bring myself in tears no matter what i do.. i can cry in things on newpaper, emails from friends, TV Series (has any one ever cried while watching Smallville?!?! it's rediculous!), and even just sitting and thinking can get me watery eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for those of you who have read my previous post "Guys with strange effects" will know what i am talking about when i say, Guy #3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my First Exam:&lt;br /&gt;(also in xanga) {i went in, sat down, looked around.. all those ppl ~ i turned around and he was sitting there. he saw me and smiled (one of those smiles that makes you think that there can be nothing wrong in the world) he mouthed "Good Luck" and smiled some more. i smiled back and mouthed "thank you, u too!" and turned around. }&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;(not in Xanga)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/u&gt; { i know, like i said. he's got a gf... but MAN do i wish his gf was prettier... lol he deserve much better... he's not like HOT, where when you see him right away u go "god he's cute" he's nothing like that. he sorta just grows on you.&lt;br /&gt;he's got this Amazing smile... he doesnt give those half/ quick smiles, when he smiles he gives it fully. (do i make sense do u know what i mean?) just none of that half hearted smiles. when he sees u and smiles, it's like u were the person he wanted to see most, and that he's so glad he saw you.&lt;br /&gt;even during the exam his smiles makes it seem like, there is no trouble in the world and that the exam means nothing. (well probably not to him, he's so smart.) but all the same, it really rubs off on you, and makes you feel like everything is going to be alright, even the exam. &lt;strong&gt;sometimes, &lt;/strong&gt;just sometimes, i wish he didnt have to be so damn nice. lol ~ we are gonna stay friends for a REALLY long time lol ~I Hope.}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guy #2 just talked to me on msn and asked me to teach him Econ tomorrow...&lt;br /&gt;i dont kow what i can teach him.. i didnt do so great on the midterm.. to be exact i failed it lol (thought the class average ws 53...) still.. it felt really bad that i didnt at least past concidering that i did Econ for 2 years in IB... it felt like i wasted 2 years...&lt;br /&gt;about him... ~ well... i dont know... i kinda figure that it's time for me to give up(not that i ever did anything to try.. lol) but still i think it's a good time to stop liking him.. preferably before tomorrow when i have to see him alone to teach him econ....&lt;br /&gt;as much as i want to "not" like him.... my heart felt sour when a good friend sorta started flirting with him during math today... eventhough she knew i like him... isnt that what a friend ISNT suppose to do? sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i havent talked to Guy #4 for quite a long while... ~  i think it's done me some good... did my share of thinking.. and prioritizing. (did i spell that right?)  o well.. i think i'm good with him being just a really good friend.   a friend who is always there when i need him.. a friend who says all the right things in important times... though he cant stand me crying, he never failed come and ask what was wrong, and sometimes just sit quietly beside me, or bring friends to sit beside me and just talk to cheer me up.    as far as i can remember, he's always there for me.  and i like it that way...   though, i'm older *just by a few months*  and i should be more mature and taking care of him *haha!*  it's always the other way around... &lt;br /&gt;as much as he hates me crying, he is always there to hug and remind me that everything will work out soon, and that everything will be alright... one of the 5 friends who will always be there for me in a heart beat when i am down... tanja, joce, jerrick, vic and guy #4.    and i know we will be Friends for life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love u guys all so much.  ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all for now fokes.&lt;br /&gt;next update is probaby gonna be after all my exams which is on the 16th. talk to u guys then~&lt;br /&gt;Love U!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-3313625999949355750?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/3313625999949355750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=3313625999949355750' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3313625999949355750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3313625999949355750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2006/12/some-updates-for-now.html' title='Some Updates~ For now.'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-1326481862877634376</id><published>2006-11-30T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-30T15:18:24.154-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guys, With Strange Effects.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;the world is white...&lt;br /&gt;it was snowing yesterday, again...&lt;br /&gt;it's kinda annoying now, coz i have to walk 20 min in the snow to get to class everyday... i love the snow when i dont actally have to go to clas. like in the holiday i wish it would snow some so that i can go skiing. that would be fun.&lt;br /&gt;but right now.. snowing isnt such a great idea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nothing much is going on right now.. i am so addicted to YouTube, it's so bad... sigh, i can watch just random stuff one after the next and never stop. i try to stop myself.. but look... studying is so boring... lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes that you know something is not going to work out... but you still cant help urself. you cant control it. espeically when it comes to feelings...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Guy #1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Origin:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; Norway &lt;strong&gt;Fact:&lt;/strong&gt; Great Smile, Cute&lt;br /&gt;i was in class today, (same as any other day), he saw me, smiled and waved. caught me off guard. lost my breath for a moment. i doubt he knew my name though, but he sees me so often he's bound to know that i am in his class. i managed to recover my shock in time to smile and say hey back. ~ we've been classmates for 4 months.. i think that was the first time he said hi to me... felt weird, but better late than never right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Guy #2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Origin:&lt;/strong&gt; HK. &lt;strong&gt;Fact:&lt;/strong&gt; Great Personality, Nice, Smart, Cute.&lt;br /&gt;i've been in SSIS long enough and hung out with "you-know-who" long enough to expect that i wasnt going to get my things back if i lend it out. ~ so, i lend my pencil to one of the guys in my class yesterday, by the end of the class i havent got my pencil back... i didnt expect too much, i just went "o-wel there goes another one." haha. today in math class, he sat beside me. i think we made the longest conversation we had in 4 months... lol that was amazing, especailly coz he sat beside me EVERY Math class.. we never spoke more than 10 sentences to each other...&lt;br /&gt;ok back to my pencil.&lt;br /&gt;at the end of the class i asked him if i could borrow pencil from him (*hint) coz i need to fill out a bubble-sheet (u'all know what that is right?) and i dont have a pencil any more (since he took mine). so he said i have yours, i meant to give it back~ so i got my pencil back. ~... ok not an interesting story.. ~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Guy #3&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Origin:&lt;/strong&gt; Taiwan (speaks chinese with Canadian Accent) &lt;strong&gt;Fact: &lt;/strong&gt;Smart, Nice, Nice Smile&lt;br /&gt;today was the Last OB class. it was an interesting class where, the first part of the lesson, we finished off group presesntations, some listened, some stared into space, some were busy filling out peer assessments, some slept.&lt;br /&gt;he sat beside me and he slept; he have always been the one who makes me laugh, even when times it's not funny. in OB class we were divided into groups who we have to work on 2 projects with the group we are with, he was in my group. being with him, working in a group with him were the most "laughable" moments in UBC. first glance at him he's this very logical and up-right guy (if u know what i mean) if u dont get to talk to him or get to know him u would never guess that he's got a fun side. he feels like the kind of guy that u know you can depend on. not to mention he is good looking too.lol. ~&lt;br /&gt;**now now dont get too excited.. he's got a gf(though we can always change that LOL jk jk)**&lt;br /&gt;i have a good feeling that he is gonna be one of the long term friends here in UBC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Guy #4 ***&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well... we've been friends ever since i was in 9th grade. thinking back to 9th grade i know we werent that close then.. but, now it seems like i've known him for my entire life/&lt;br /&gt;for those of you whom i discribe my "ideal" bf to will know and see that it is true when i say there are many falt in him and lots of my "ideal bf criteria" that he does not meet, not even close. but strangely enough, (though i keep denying it), he seems to be the one who draws me towards him most. not that he is doing it on purpose, (which gets even more creepy and annoying for me).&lt;br /&gt;i didnt dare think of him more than what i've always been calling him. it would be too much of a mess and trouble if otherwise. besides the possibility is vurtually zero.&lt;br /&gt;and also, i love my friends too much to make such foolish/ selfish move even if i dared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know, i love something called internet.&lt;br /&gt;i think it's the greatest means of communication ever invented..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-1326481862877634376?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/1326481862877634376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=1326481862877634376' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/1326481862877634376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/1326481862877634376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2006/11/guys-with-strange-effects.html' title='Guys, With Strange Effects.'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-13514178677562010</id><published>2006-11-27T18:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T19:58:39.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feelings. Love. Me.</title><content type='html'>having a love life for all those pretty, sophisticated, sexy, cute girls out there always seem so easy.  it's so obvious which kinds of girls guys go for...  it's also clear to me, that i'm not one of them.  they make average/ below average girls' life so difficult. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i talked to one of my highschool guy friends, he asked me if i think being pretty, sophisticated, sexy or cute is all that matters.   i told him that i dont think that it is all that matters. but it seems like guys think that they are of some importance.  first impressions seem so important for guys,.. but average/below average firls never make any (let alone good) first impressions for guys.  so for us, it is important for guys to know us a bit more, to know what's in the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love the fact that i was able to go to small size schools because it allow guys in my class to get to know me more.  To be able to get use to the guys, to come out comfortable enough to laugh, joke, hang-out, and to some, even share my thoughts and feelings.  being able to go out with guys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;though sometimes, i have this feeling that maybe the guys whom i was with, was with me becuase they dont have many other choices. may not be true, but who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a friend told me that for average girls, it's important for us to make friends with guys, to show them what's inside. how them the values within.  i asked her what if i dont have any?  she told me that's maybe what i think, but it's not true.   &lt;br /&gt;Me: is that so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are times where i wish i have some one beside me, who i could share my troubles, worries, thoughts, my heart.  to have a shoulder to cry on, or to have someone who would call me just to tell me i was missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i envy those ppl who always seem so independent.  ppl who act as though they dont need a 2nd person to complete them....  where as me, without my friends and ppl who supports me along the way, i feel unstable, incomplete, like a chipped plate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The closest thing i feel in terms of being loved here in UBC is when i am talking to my highschool friends online.  one of them... i dont know what my feelings are towards him, actually, i know what my feelings are, but i'm controlling it.  &lt;br /&gt;for him and me, it's impossible.  it was impossible back in SSIS, its even more impossible now.  i treasure him as a friend, and i never want to lose that, and i wont do anything that would ever risk that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am only able to say these things here because i know no one is reading this blog.  haha, some may ask me what's the point.  well it feels great to let my feelings out... it's killing me inside.  ppl may read it.  but i know it wouldnt be him. so it wouldnt matter.  ppl who read it, well probably knows about most of these things already.  maybe not about him, but they wont spoil the secret so no worries there too, ppl who read this blog, are my closest friends, it is time for them to know the truth anyways, i never kept anything from them for so long..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-13514178677562010?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/13514178677562010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=13514178677562010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/13514178677562010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/13514178677562010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2006/11/having-love-life-for-all-those-pretty.html' title='Feelings. Love. Me.'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-3637023377488264824</id><published>2006-11-26T15:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-26T15:56:40.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Continuous Studies</title><content type='html'>Continuous studies... what does that mean... &lt;br /&gt;well it's kinda simple, it is just studying continuously.~ &lt;br /&gt;it just that they make it sound nicer by switching it around.  but actually that is what it means.  ~  people manipulate things so that it sounds better than it actually means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well wat can i do about it... nothing areally...  i just really hope these 4 years can fly by in a flash... so i can get out of here.&lt;br /&gt;i'm not saying that i dont like my classes... dont get me wrong.. i actualy dont mind them coz they are interesting.. but the exams and test... they really get to me... i dont know why they do.. but they just do... i hate it that it is...because i can do so well in projects and classwork.. but when it comes to exams... i just go blank... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont see what is the point of the exams.. and tests. because really in real life project and assignments are what really happens right? no one is going to test you what u know about calculus when u are in work... they might require you using it.. but u can always look up the calculation formula if u forget.. so what's the point?  so math you can give lots of work and stuff but what's the use of banning us from Calculator and Formula sheets?  who is really gonna ban you from calculator at work... in fact i dont think there is any kind of work that requires you to be able to do calculus in ur head...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so math exams with out formula sheets and calculator is totally unrealistic... really no point... sigh.. and yet that is what we are ended up with in uni... along with all the other subjects.. who really is goning to test if u know all the concepts in Economics when u apply for a job?  if u dont know it.. just look it up... that's what books are for.. and when u know the stuff well enough gradually you will be able to memorise the ones u use most... but u dont have to remember EVERYTHING RIGHT?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;totally insane... i wish i was the school board.. i would change everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-3637023377488264824?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/3637023377488264824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=3637023377488264824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3637023377488264824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/3637023377488264824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-continuous-studies.html' title='My Continuous Studies'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-8981527229142094421</id><published>2006-11-13T20:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T20:20:54.129-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Justin Timberlake</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="202" height="233"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent" /&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="configUrl=http://www.sonybmg.com/musicbox/mb2/community/singletitle/timberlake.xml"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.sonybmg.com/musicbox/mb2/community/singletitle/SingleVideoShowcase.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed FlashVars="configUrl=http://www.sonybmg.com/musicbox/mb2/community/singletitle/timberlake.xml" wmode="transparent" src="http://www.sonybmg.com/musicbox/mb2/community/singletitle/SingleVideoShowcase.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="202" height="233"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-8981527229142094421?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/8981527229142094421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=8981527229142094421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/8981527229142094421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/8981527229142094421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2006/11/justin-timberlake.html' title='Justin Timberlake'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-374522050531088192.post-7928942877723861814</id><published>2006-10-10T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T13:43:11.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First BLOGGER</title><content type='html'>Hello all u bloggers out there..&lt;br /&gt;i guess this is gonna be just a short short blog telling you how "excited" i am to be using Blogger LOL  hummm ~  i dont know why i am using it anyways..... i've got xanga, i've got hi5, got friendster, got facebook, got my space...really dont see why i created blogger along with them...&lt;br /&gt;It looks cool... ~ other than that there isnt much to say.. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well i dont expect alot of ppl coming here anyways... which is sad..&lt;br /&gt;every one else i suppose is used to my xanga... so.. if u find that there isnt much updates as one would hope.. it's probably coz i've given up here. &lt;br /&gt;and come visit my xanga site. :  &lt;a href="http://www.xanga.com/sandybubbles0815/"&gt;www.xanga.com/sandybubbles0815/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have fun blogging&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/374522050531088192-7928942877723861814?l=sandybubbles.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/feeds/7928942877723861814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=374522050531088192&amp;postID=7928942877723861814' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7928942877723861814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/374522050531088192/posts/default/7928942877723861814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sandybubbles.blogspot.com/2006/10/first-blogger.html' title='First BLOGGER'/><author><name>Bubbles</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17246252257228059533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6ZYEcRJjEZI/TpnRx8KiFeI/AAAAAAAABGE/hJ94lsmhTWo/s220/Me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
