<?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-22313421</id><updated>2011-07-07T16:27:45.661-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my pineapple under the sea</title><subtitle type='html'>the sun, the moon and the stars look fuzzy from down here..</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>176</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-6726264753308144543</id><published>2010-09-03T22:38:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T23:08:30.021-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks BEB! :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/TIG_5u_dPHI/AAAAAAAAAOI/0OMN8djdM-w/s1600/2010__unfold_speedd7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/TIG_5u_dPHI/AAAAAAAAAOI/0OMN8djdM-w/s320/2010__unfold_speedd7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512898417465834610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay to Marco! He helped me buy this bike that is so awesome it folds! LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do hope I get to use it to commute to work. Taking the metro is getting so expensive since I moved here in DC. It's about $3.05 one way. I know it does not sound like it's a lot but it adds up! If I do use the bike (which I have to!), roundtrip from home to work will be about 20 miles (32.18 km). I hope I make it. Tomorrow, marco is being brave enough to ride my route with me so I'll know what to do on Tuesday when I go back to work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so glad it's the long weekend. We have been so busy with moving that we have not taken any breaks. The apartment looks better now and all I need to do is sort out my crap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-6726264753308144543?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/6726264753308144543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=6726264753308144543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6726264753308144543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6726264753308144543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2010/09/thanks-beb.html' title='Thanks BEB! :)'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/TIG_5u_dPHI/AAAAAAAAAOI/0OMN8djdM-w/s72-c/2010__unfold_speedd7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-6341199398071403703</id><published>2010-08-15T22:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T22:21:56.892-05:00</updated><title type='text'>im back!</title><content type='html'>I'm sure people who read my blog before have long moved on to reading someone else' because I have been out of the loop for a year! I cannot believe this. I've been so busy at work and with everything going on in my life, I just don't have the time to do anything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Feb 2009, I was moved to the Preschool room to be one of the lead teachers. Preschool has been kicking my butt. I am exhausted every night and I hardly have time to think! I have been very cranky to Marco and to my co-teachers and it's because I am always so tired!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what, Preschool is fun! The kids are the best and even if they keep calling my name for EVERY THING that they need and I mean EVERY THING, I love them to bits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a year and a half of doing this and I am still sane, so I guess I am doing ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year is going to be a big year for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm moving and it's going to be awesome..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-6341199398071403703?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/6341199398071403703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=6341199398071403703' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6341199398071403703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6341199398071403703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2010/08/im-back.html' title='im back!'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-4154560264968444401</id><published>2009-05-20T21:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T21:34:13.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'>maybe not</title><content type='html'>I do not know if we are good together. I mean, it should all be working out, right?  but most times, when we are apart, it's difficult. im tired and i know it's my fault too, but it's tiring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-4154560264968444401?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/4154560264968444401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=4154560264968444401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4154560264968444401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4154560264968444401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2009/05/maybe-not.html' title='maybe not'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-1821587287359337641</id><published>2009-04-12T21:28:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T21:52:30.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My late Valentines Day post</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SeKouOfwwRI/AAAAAAAAAN0/I_SQ4wdQ9S4/s1600-h/IMG_1141.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SeKouOfwwRI/AAAAAAAAAN0/I_SQ4wdQ9S4/s320/IMG_1141.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324003221624111378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SeKoj418UVI/AAAAAAAAANs/QnPOxvmxuJk/s1600-h/IMG_1129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SeKoj418UVI/AAAAAAAAANs/QnPOxvmxuJk/s320/IMG_1129.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324003044012872018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gave me my first ever bonggang valentines day. (Thanks beb!) It was awesome. I've been so lazy at updating my blog but this is something that I'll have to write about. The friday before Vday, I was telling him how I felt about him not buying me flowers, ever! He was just quiet and nodded and I stopped bugging him about it. When we woke up the next day, we decided to cook a special lunch of steak and potatoes (i know, heavy, right? but still good!). While we were in the kitchen, someone knocked on the door and I was wondering who could it be (we don't get a lot of visitors, you see). When I opened the door, there was a huuuge box waiting for me by the door. I knew instantly that he will have a smug look on his face as soon as I turned around to see him. The box had a dozen and a half roses and he had my heart. I teared up. I almost cried and all I could say was, "stupid, why did you do this?". It was overwhelming and he was so happy to see that I was surprised. He rarely gets the chance to surprise me and when he does, he goes all out. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that afternoon, we headed over to his place in DC. We dressed up and got ready for our big dinner at Oya, in Penn Quarter. When we got there, I tried to stop myself from gushing. The lights were turned down low, the walls were see-through and had fireplaces in between them so there was a romantic glow to the whole restaurant. Once seated, we looked at the menu and did not know that they had a fixed menu for the night. Ooops. I looked at the list of the food served that night and then I got to the price. Dang, It was $95 per person and it doesn't include tax and tip. I asked him if he was sure about it and I was ready to get the heck out of there. He said for me not to worry and to just enjoy the night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love him. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He ordered a glass of wine for me and took charge of everything. I like it when he does that :D So the food came course after course. We both had the mostly the same things except for the entree. We had raw tuna for starters, then duck confit crepes, sorbet to cleanse the palate (naks) and red velvet cake for dessert. His entree was the lobster and mine was the (what else!) steak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so romantic. We talked about us and about the past year and how it was to be with each other and how annoying we were at times to each other. I had a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked from Penn Quarter to Scott Circle and enjoyed the pretty warm weather considering it was still winter that time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-1821587287359337641?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/1821587287359337641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=1821587287359337641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1821587287359337641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1821587287359337641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-late-valentines-day-post.html' title='My late Valentines Day post'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SeKouOfwwRI/AAAAAAAAAN0/I_SQ4wdQ9S4/s72-c/IMG_1141.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-6431409928900081663</id><published>2008-12-15T22:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T22:38:57.184-05:00</updated><title type='text'>happy birthday daddy :)</title><content type='html'>Today (in the Philippines) is my Dad's birthday. It would've been his 51st. I miss my Dad. I feel like I did not make enough memories with him to last me through my lifetime. I regret not doing a lot of things with my Dad while I was still back home. The truth is that I am very disappointed that I do not remember a lot about my Dad. I don't know why but I can not seem to remember events unless someone tells me about them. That's why when my sister came to visit me here, all I wanted her to do was tell stories of my Dad to me. I wanted her to tell me all about his last days, all about while I was gone and all about him and his everyday things. I remember all the good stuff about him. I remember him taking me to school every day of my pre-school, elementary and high school life. I remember he taught me how to be tough, and I learned how to be "barumbado" because I knew that he would back me up whenever. He accepted every part of me and he taught me how to fend for myself. I loved him in silence. I never told him how much I loved him until I was far away from him. And then I appreciated everything he did for me and our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he died, I did not even expect it. I was blown out of my mind. I felt lost and depressed and sick to my gut. All I could think about was I did not even tell him that I love him so much. It was too late. As much as my family assured me that my Dad knew, I did not. My whole life that is my only regret. Not saying to my Dad how much I love him. And now, I cant say it enough. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;I love you Daddy. I will love you till the end of time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-6431409928900081663?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/6431409928900081663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=6431409928900081663' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6431409928900081663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6431409928900081663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-birthday-daddy.html' title='happy birthday daddy :)'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-7591145880046289965</id><published>2008-11-30T16:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T16:25:37.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ows?</title><content type='html'>i am the one daw?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-7591145880046289965?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/7591145880046289965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=7591145880046289965' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7591145880046289965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7591145880046289965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/11/ows.html' title='ows?'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5686577241889816642</id><published>2008-11-29T16:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T16:44:40.305-05:00</updated><title type='text'>and now they're back in..</title><content type='html'>just when i thought that it's going great, i feel THIS way. Like im out of the loop, like im not really part of the picture. in our lives, there are people who are important to us and i wish that i am important to some people too, that im worth the drive or that being with me is worth it all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;important things first, i always say to you. i know that, and every time i tell you that, all i wanted was for you to tell me that i am important to you, that i am one of those important things to you.  but you never do. i do not truly understand what you feel or how you see things so this is why im giving up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;important important important important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one day, i'll be important too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5686577241889816642?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5686577241889816642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5686577241889816642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5686577241889816642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5686577241889816642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/11/is-this-how-it-is.html' title='and now they&apos;re back in..'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-1192480659870607031</id><published>2008-11-15T01:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T01:23:48.687-05:00</updated><title type='text'>and they're out</title><content type='html'>Yes it's official. Kame na nga. :) We finally came out to our friends here in DC although a lot of my friends back home already know. I still consider this the official coming out of the closet for us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinikilig ako :) and it's making me happy. I can finally answer with a straight face when they ask me who he is :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend, we are going out with the barkada for the first time as a couple. EEK, a couple? gosh, it's so new to me, I'm not used to it. So wish me, us, luck and hope that the spotlight won't be on us :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why this was such a big deal to me. But he's right, some things are worth the wait, and this is one of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and another one worth the wait is my other baby. The new Mac Notebook! I am sooo loving it and even if with the same price I could've bought a laptop and a wii if i chose a sony laptop, this is sooo worth it. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an official couple, we are planning our big vacay for next year. I know, July 09 is still a long way from now, but cramming all the activities you can do up and down Cali, plus Las Vegas in a little over a week takes a bit of planning and strategy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the timeline and the tentative places we are going to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 24 - fly to san diego&lt;br /&gt;July 24, 25, 26- stay in san diego with my family. maybe go to disneyland since marco has never gone there.&lt;br /&gt;July 27, 28 - Las vegas&lt;br /&gt;July 29, 30 -  fly to San Fran then drive to Sacramento and stay overnight&lt;br /&gt;July 30, 31, Aug 1, 2 - Drive down from Sac, stay in San Fran with Tanya then fly out to DC on the 2nd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wheew.. it's a whole lot to do in just a week, but we are very excited about this big trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you know any good places we can go to inbetween, let me know:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-1192480659870607031?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/1192480659870607031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=1192480659870607031' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1192480659870607031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1192480659870607031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/11/and-theyre-out.html' title='and they&apos;re out'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5670528600951671226</id><published>2008-10-21T21:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T21:11:51.570-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>here i was thinking that it was different. but it's not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5670528600951671226?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5670528600951671226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5670528600951671226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5670528600951671226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5670528600951671226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/10/here-i-was-thinking-that-it-was.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-9091312347884310995</id><published>2008-10-12T20:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T21:18:03.419-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i likey the way</title><content type='html'>- you snore in my ear while we sleep&lt;br /&gt;- i actually fall asleep to your snore&lt;br /&gt;- you ask me if i ate my miryenda or if i napped&lt;br /&gt;- we always talk in the morning before work. and now, we talk after work too.&lt;br /&gt;- we sleep in a twin bed and (so far) no one has fallen off it!&lt;br /&gt;- you're malikot when we sleep&lt;br /&gt;- im malikot when i sleep and you don't mind&lt;br /&gt;- we go to mass&lt;br /&gt;- we hold hands during mass&lt;br /&gt;- we go to the farmer's market after mass&lt;br /&gt;- we have brunch every sunday&lt;br /&gt;- we cook together&lt;br /&gt;- we try new restaurants and new food!&lt;br /&gt;- you eat slow and i eat faster than you.&lt;br /&gt;- you eat what i cook and actually like it!&lt;br /&gt;- you walk&lt;br /&gt;- we just go out and walk around dc. hhww.&lt;br /&gt;- you stretch out your hands when you ask for a hug&lt;br /&gt;- you open up to me&lt;br /&gt;- you are yourself when you're with me&lt;br /&gt;- your goofy side comes out&lt;br /&gt;- you know when im sad or if something is wrong even through text&lt;br /&gt;- you know how to make me feel better most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;- we hug after what feels like a loooong week.&lt;br /&gt;- you pout when you want something&lt;br /&gt;- you say "hmpf" when i don't give you what you want&lt;br /&gt;- you're selos sometimes&lt;br /&gt;- you make me happy whenever you can&lt;br /&gt;- you always try to make things right for me&lt;br /&gt;- you get mad at me for being too bratty&lt;br /&gt;- you still give in to what i want&lt;br /&gt;- we eat breakfast in bed, and now, breakfast at your place&lt;br /&gt;- we hold hands when we're just sitting there and doing nothing&lt;br /&gt;- we do chores together. and we actually get things done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is so much more i like about you and us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss you so, that's why i came up with this list to help pass the time, but it's making me miss you even more. come back na.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-9091312347884310995?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/9091312347884310995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=9091312347884310995' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/9091312347884310995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/9091312347884310995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-likey-way.html' title='i likey the way'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5934063723643769770</id><published>2008-10-07T21:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T21:05:43.124-05:00</updated><title type='text'>we want the funk!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1cNDSPutas8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1cNDSPutas8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this right here is my favorite mastercard commercial so far. the boy is blue is just awesome. they are soo cute! enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5934063723643769770?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5934063723643769770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5934063723643769770' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5934063723643769770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5934063723643769770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/10/we-want-funk.html' title='we want the funk!'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-3501830304435684587</id><published>2008-09-28T16:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T21:25:51.158-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Chicago Trip</title><content type='html'>First things, first, it got rained on. Yes, the whole time we were there, it poured and poured till it actually set a new record for the most rainfall in one day.And I had so many things planned and I have been researching from the time Marco told me we were going to Chicago which was about 6 months before the actual trip. But you know what, it was all good. A hotel room, a king sized bed, cable t.v., rain tapping our window and someone to cuddle up to, I can not ask for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day I got there, We headed to Portillo's for early dinner. I had their Famous Italian beef Sandwich and Marco finally had his Chicago Dog. They were both good and satisfying although they did not have the WOW that I was looking for. That night, we both relaxed and settled in and just spent the whole night together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, we woke up early and hoped that the rain finally stopped, but alas, the weather man said that it will unfortunately rain all weekend long. So we dressed up, had breakfast at the hotel atrium and enjoyed hot chocolate while watching the rain fall. I met some of his co-trainees and we talked about going into downtown Chicago at around lunch time so, we did. Well, at least Marco and I did. It took us almost 4 hours to get to the city which usually takes just 45 minutes because the train tracks we're flooded and everybody else was in their cars causing huge jams on the roads. And that was on a Saturday! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We eventually found our way to White Castle since Marco has been craving for their sliders and there were no White Castles near DC. We ordered their mini cheeseburgers and ordered some to take back to the hotel. They were good. We were so hungry that we scarfed down 6 burgers each in under 5 minutes. We were soaked from walking and we both decided to just head home. But because I have been whining about wanting to get a bubble bath, Marco suggested we get off a random station in the loop and magbakasakali that there's a drugstore nearby. So we got off Jackson and voila, a Walgreens and a Garrett's Popcorn all in one corner! Yay! We got our stuff for our bubble bath and dessert all in one stop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got back, we soaked in the tub for a bit and then headed downstairs to have dinner at Old Chicago. We ordered Spaghetti with meatballs(yum!) and their Chicago Seven Deep Dish Pizza(yum! yum!). We had a couple of beers and then retreated to our room for a good night's rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morning after we slept in and took our time to get out of bed for breakfast. When we did, we saw that it was still raining out and decided to just stay in. We watched TV and napped till about 5 pm. When we woke up, we saw that the it was a bit brighter outside. We looked out and saw that the rain has stopped! I was so happy! I made aya to go downtown but Marco was a bit hesitant since he had to wake up early the next day for his training. But I gave him the best pout I can give and begged him to say yes, until he finally gave in! Yay! So at 6pm we were headed to downtown, and did not know what to do first, but we knew that we had to go up either the Sears Tower or the John Hancock Observatory. SO we decided on the latter because in the same building, there is this lounge where instead of paying to see the views, you can get yourself a drink and enjoy the same view you'd see if you went up the tower or the observatory! So we went up the Signature lounge and enjoyed a drink and an appetizer. The elevator ride only took a little over a minute to get up 96 floors! The view from the top was awesome. You can see the lights of the city and a dark portion which is the lake!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we were headed towards our late dinner. Deep Dish Pizza. And the people we asked had one answer to "Which joint serves the best deep dish pizza?" and it was Giordano's! We walked a couple of blocks and got there hungry and excited! We ordered a small pizza before seating and it still took them almost an hour to make our pizza. The result was a gooey, meaty, yummy pizza that looked like it was made out of pure cheese! We only had to eat one slice each before we felt full and then took the rest of what seemed like more than 5 pounds of food.We headed home and had another good night's sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Marco left early for his training which left me with the whole day to waste. So I took my time eating breakfast and I read half of my book (which he gave me for my bday! thanks marco :)), got a bit of a tan and headed up for another bubble bath. Finally, he came back and we had Greek chicken for dinner and cheesecake for dessert. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall it was a fun trip even if we got rained on. What's important (sabi nga ni lorraine) is that we were together. So, im hoping we can go back and enjoy Chicago even more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-3501830304435684587?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/3501830304435684587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=3501830304435684587' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3501830304435684587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3501830304435684587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/09/our-chicago-trip.html' title='Our Chicago Trip'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-8818477961446435750</id><published>2008-09-09T21:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T21:04:21.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>for his birthday</title><content type='html'>I think it's cool that our birthdays are so close together. Double celebrations are always fun. Celebrating both our days felt like it lasted a whole month. Last August, I planned to take him to a French restaurant that serves the one thing he's been wanting to taste, Calf brains. So I made reservations and made sure he was free that weekend, told him to dress up and bring his apetitte along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got there, I thought the place was empty. La Chaumiere is a small French bistro in Georgetown and my French co-teacher gave me rave reviews about it. When we got inside, the place looked like it was a small dining room in a country cottage that was almost full of people. It had a fireplace in the middle and tables were placed close together that it felt like I was obliged to introduce myself or say hi to the other table at least. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They offered a prix price menu the whole month of August so we chose from their special menu. I had the Garlic Mussels and he had the Pike Dumpling in Lobster Sauce for starters, then I had the Rabbit Casserole and he had his Calf Brains. For dessert, he had the Creme Brulee (which I wish I had) and I had the Apple pastry with Vanilla ice cream. Everything was so good. We didnt do the wine pairing but instead bought wine and cheese from Whole Foods to bring home for our midnight snack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our trip to Chicago (YAY!), we promised to make tipid and do cheap eats instead of splurging on lunches and brunches and dinners. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and my very best friend in the whole wide world got married last August 23. Congratulations to Cha and Abe! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-8818477961446435750?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/8818477961446435750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=8818477961446435750' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8818477961446435750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8818477961446435750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/09/for-his-birthday.html' title='for his birthday'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-1274572614468251894</id><published>2008-08-27T21:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T21:24:43.422-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GPmZ5TFKlwU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GPmZ5TFKlwU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ganito daw ako! heehee it's funny!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-1274572614468251894?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/1274572614468251894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=1274572614468251894' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1274572614468251894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1274572614468251894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/08/ganito-daw-ako-heehee-its-funny.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-630409595325978647</id><published>2008-08-22T23:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T23:52:33.147-05:00</updated><title type='text'>but why?</title><content type='html'>Why is it that the person who makes me cry the most is also the one who can make me stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not fair. No matter how much I tell myself that I deserve someone better, or that enough is enough, it still isn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-630409595325978647?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/630409595325978647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=630409595325978647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/630409595325978647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/630409595325978647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/08/but-why.html' title='but why?'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-2406531835511799634</id><published>2008-08-17T18:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T21:35:41.152-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Marco told me that we have not eaten at the same restaurant twice since before our mini-vacation in New Jersey. So to continue with this, we planned the weekend to be an adventure for our tummies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marco and I decided to do brunch on a Saturday and considering all the good restaurants that offer Restaurant Week lunch are closed Saturdays, we decided on an apparently popular diner in Adams Morgan called Open City. And true to the reviews I read on Yelp.com, it was packed with people and the line outside went all the way to the curb. Although we were a bit hesitant, considering the wait, we put our names on the list and just walked around the block to pass the time.  When we got back, we asked for the menu and after a couple of minutes, the lady called out our name for out table. We were lucky! It had a bunch of different stuff on the menu but we were determined to get breakfast. So I was eying the multi-grain pancakes or the french toast but I was looking for something new, so I tried the Croque Monsieur (sp?) which is basically a ham and cheese sandwich with bechamel sauce and a side of salad. It was very good. Marco got the Western omelette which he's been craving for and a frozen mocha drink.  After this feast, we decided to walk a bit to the zoo and then we headed over to the Pentagon City Mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my Daddy's first death anniversary so Marco, Regina and I attended mass in Bethesda and had dinner at Moby Dick Kabob on Wisconsin Avenue. It was cheap but really good. We went to La Madeleine to buy bread and some pastry for dessert. After that, we went home to buy some sparkling wine for our wine and cheese night. We chose a rose brut cava which was a bit sweet and complimented the nutty cheese that I got from Balducci's the other day. I got four kinds of cheeses. The humbolt fog (sp?) which is a cheese made out of goat's milk, the Rembrandt and brie which were both made out of cow's milk  and Manchego, which is a Spanish cheese made out of sheep's milk. We enjoyed our cheese plate and wine, which is considerably cheaper than ordering it from a restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We both slept  full and a little tipsy and we woke up the next day craving for paella. So we dressed up and headed over to Divino's lounge in Bethesda because they offer all-you-can eat tapas for brunch every Sunday. Sadly, when we got there, it was closed for brunch till September! Aww.. so I racked my brains thinking of another Spanish restaurant in the area and I thought of Jaleo. It was so nice outside and it was a good thing we got window seats which are as good as outside seating but with a breeze of cold air from the airconditioning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We looked at the menu and decided to get two tapas from their special menu. One was bread with goat cheese, hard boiled egg and smoked salmon with capers. The other one, which was our favorite, was a Spanish pork sausage with white beans and mushrooms. A couple of minutes after finishing the last of the Spanish sausage, the main dish came. The paella was served in a big cast iron pan and all kinds of seafood was in there, waiting to be devoured! It had shrimps and a rock lobster (sabi ni marco eh), fish chunks and mussels. It was delicious! And the end to the perfect meal, peppermint ice cream from Gifford's!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the perfect end to the perfect food tripping weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I just need to go to the gym to work it all off, so I can do this all over again this coming weekend! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-2406531835511799634?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/2406531835511799634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=2406531835511799634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2406531835511799634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2406531835511799634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/08/marco-told-me-that-we-have-not-eaten-at.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-4381809709994650099</id><published>2008-08-10T19:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T20:22:54.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sunburnt!</title><content type='html'>I have not been sunburnt since I dont remember when. It was all because we went tubing this weekend. It was very relaxing and in the company of good friends, it was a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a first time for everybody and we made the best out of it. I'm glad they broke the rules by buying beer because it was so much funner with them drunk. heehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all met up early in the morning at my friend's place which is soo rare for my friends because they're all sleep-in most days.  Two cars, 8 people and 1 1/2 hours later, we were in Harper's Ferry, WV, right in the heart of the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were greeted by a really big woman with tattoos all over her and she explained everything to us and gave us life vests, a cooler tube and tubes with and without bottoms. It was very brave of my friends to still go with their plans to bring the beer along, considering how big the woman was and how big a trouble we can get into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They then shuttled us to the mouth of the river where the dam was and then they told us to just relax and go with the flow, literally. And we did just that. We kind of panicked at first because the flow took us apart but after paddling ( a lot of it!) we all tied ourselves together with the cooler in the middle and relaxed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was awesome. The flow, the feel, the sound of the water and being with the people i care about helped me relax a bit from all the tension I have been feeling the past few weeks. I was laughing, we were all laughing. It was the first time I swam in fresh water and it was really refreshing. I did not have to worry about chemicals and I only worried about the living things swimming from under us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started tubing at around 12:30 PM and got to the end at around 4:30 pm. We did not know it took that long. But everyone had fun ( i hope) and got burnt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-4381809709994650099?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/4381809709994650099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=4381809709994650099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4381809709994650099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4381809709994650099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/08/sunburnt.html' title='sunburnt!'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-3711171183240040490</id><published>2008-08-07T20:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T20:55:29.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lia's</title><content type='html'>So, the OC in me took over when the summer Restaurant week came along. Oh my gulay, there were too many restaurants to try and so little time! Restaurant week in DC and Bethesda gives us the option of trying really good (and EXPENSIVE) restaurants for the pulubi price of $20.00 for lunch and $35.00 for dinner.  Considering that it's a three course meal, it's a steal! They do have special menus during that time, but I bet everything is well worth the price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I spent late nights browsing &lt;a href="http://www.yelp.com"&gt;Yelp.com&lt;/a&gt; (my new bestfriend) and&lt;a href="http://www.dcfoodies.com"&gt; dcfoodies.com&lt;/a&gt; waiting and looking at possible restaurants to go to. Argh, there's too many to choose and with my limited resources, Marco and I decided to do Lia's in Chevy Chase, MD (and thats not the actor!). It's technically part of B-CC (Bethesda-Chevy Chase) Restaurant week and at only $30 for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;Definitely a bargain in our part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last friday(8/1) we had a mini-date and went to dinner after work. We were both so tired and looking forward to the food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got there, we were seated right away even if we were too early for our reservations.&lt;br /&gt;It was a cute restaurant. Jam-packed with people like us, wanting to take advantage of the cheap RW specials. People had wines on their tables, but me and Marco were there for the food. Maybe, for his birthday, we will get a bottle of wine when we go to La Chaumiere, which is another entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Water for me please" "me too!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No soda, argh. Frustrating. I've been cheating a bit here and there, but most of the time, I've been able to steer clear of the refreshing "gumuguhit" Coke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took us a while to decide what to get. So while waiting, I decided to try some cheeses. I said it was on me since, according to the menu, it was only 3 dollars for 3 ounces. I was thinking, "wow mura!". He chose a sheep's and goat's milk cheese, and I chose a cow's milk cheese. When the waiter brought us our cheese plate, there were two tiny slices of cheese on a big plate with two biscotti-like bread and fig jam in the middle. I was thinking to myself, "eh kaya pala mura, kase malaki pa daliri ko sa slice." It was good nonetheless. Now, we're both into trying new cheeses. So for our next outdoor movie/picnic, I am making a cheese plate and bringing wine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided on getting the Risotto balls with Fontina cheese for my appetizer and Marco got the chicken dumpling soup. Very ordinary if you ask me, so I asked him TWICE if he really wanted that. heehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the table beside us got their entrees, I decided to copy them and get what they got. I ordered the Pork tenderloin wrapped in proscuitto (sp?) with sauteed spinach and sweet onion polenta. Marco got the Pan seared scallops with asparagus and mushroom risotto.  Funny how the waiter mixed up our orders and thought that Marco got the meat and not me. That means he has girly taste! (kidding, Marco :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pork was a little tooooo spicy for my taste and I didnt like the polenta that much. He liked his entree by the looks of his almost empty plate, save the last piece of risotto rice left on the side. No, wait, ok, nevermind, his plate is all clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For dessert, I got the panna cotta, and he got the peach upsidedown cake with vanilla gelato. His gelato was YUMMY! My panna cotta was so-so. Nothing wow, or mouthwatering. I've baked better! hehe yabang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took us an hour to eat all this. Faster than the almost three-hour dinner we had at the Melting Pot about a month ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fun. I had fun eating and trying not to be clumsy at such a posh restaurant while we were surrounded by people who were dressed up for dinner and we were still in our work clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, we're going tubing. So that's another story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-3711171183240040490?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/3711171183240040490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=3711171183240040490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3711171183240040490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3711171183240040490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/08/lias.html' title='Lia&apos;s'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-7761246118519061013</id><published>2008-07-26T13:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T20:39:20.362-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a long kwento about my beach trip!</title><content type='html'>Of course I have to make kuwento about my beach trip! My first trip to the beach where I actually touched the water and swam in it after more than four years. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marco and I have been planning this trip for more than a month and I tried to contain my excitement for so long it was almost torture! Because we all know that I jinx stuff. I've been researching and going online to read reviews and mapquesting this trip for a month! And it all paid off. We had such a fun packed trip that we did most things tourists will do in a week in just three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip going there was a whopping 5 hours including our little bathroom stop somewhere in Maryland. It was a fun drive and we took the scenic route. We went through rolling hills, corn fields, wineries, horse ranches, even a hydroelectric plant. It was awesome. When we got to New Jersey, I was excited to see the shore. And when we finally got there, it was beautiful. It wasn't Boracay, but it was still as awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cape May, NJ is a small town at the tip of New Jersey, at the mouth of the Delaware bay. One of my parents at daycare told me that it was just a small quaint Victorian town where you can walk to almost everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a list of things to do and number one was to breathe in the salty air and so we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather was beautiful. We were lucky to get 88F days and cooler nights. The sun wasn't as harsh and it wasn't humid at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number two in my list was to food trip. We ate so much and at so many different places. There was too much to see and eat at that three days isn't enough. I studied sample menus during my free time which was usually when Marco goes for a nap. We both wanted to try something new so I was on a quest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got there at around lunch time on our first day. We were so hungry that we settled for the first restaurant that we saw, &lt;a href="http://www.pilothousecapemay.com/"&gt;The Pilot House&lt;/a&gt;. Marco had Cape May Crab Cakes and I had the Hot Pasta lunch special. The crab cakes were awesome! Crisp on the outside and creamy on the inside. My pasta was creamy and it came with blackened shrimps. It was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went back to the hotel and slept a bit, then we went to the beach to sunbathe. There weren't much people on the beach and we noticed that there weren't a lot of asians. Well, John did warn me about that. He said not to be surprised if we were the only asians there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before heading out for dinner, we decided to give the spa tub a whirl. It was relaxing and that thing made the whole hotel stay worth it. For dinner that night, we walked a couple of blocks to the nearest diner we could find. It was the &lt;a href="http://www.oceanviewrestaurant.com/"&gt;Oceanview Restaurant.&lt;/a&gt; It did not disappoint. There was a view of the beach and it was great. I had Crab Imperial which was so huge I even took it back home and had it for dinner with some to share. Marco had his porkchops he's been craving for the longest time. It was good! After dinner we walked down to the main street to look for a mini golfing place. When we got there, it was full of people. So we settled for the arcade. We shot hoops, did air hockey and skee balled. They even had Time Crisis which I haven't played since Glorietta! After claiming our prizes, we got ice cream for our walk back to the hotel. It was a good night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day we woke up pretty early to get prime seats at the &lt;a href="http://www.madbatter.com/"&gt;Mad Batter&lt;/a&gt;. It was the restaurant that had rave reviews from all the travel sites I've read. We had porch seats where we can people watch while having breakfast. Marco had the Helsinki, which is scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and cream cheese and house potato fries. I had the Almond Orange French Toast which had the perfect sweetness to it. It was a good start to the busy day ahead of us. After breakfast we searched for the nearest bike rental place to get bikes for us. When we did, we biked all the way to the&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cape_May_Lighthouse"&gt; lighthouse&lt;/a&gt;. There was a beach there and we saw something bobbing in the water. We looked closely and the bobbing things were fins! Dolphin fins! It was amazing. We saw dolphins for free! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the long bike ride, which was quite an adventure for Marco (and I won't elaborate because I promised not to :)) we got back home to grab some lunch. On the way back though, we found a cool mini golf place that had an ice cream house upfront called &lt;a href="http://www.capemayminigolf.com/"&gt;Cocomoe's&lt;/a&gt;. It was my first time to mini golf and it was fun but really frustrating at the same time. We exchanged our score cards for ice cream and the sundae we had was really good. We returned the bikes after that and walked to &lt;a href="http://www.hotdogtommys.com/hotdogtommys.htm"&gt;Tommy's Hotdogs&lt;/a&gt;. The hotdog stand must be really popular because the line went all the way out across the street. We had a whole list of hot dogs to choose from but I wanted their special Bad Tornado Dog and Marco got the Bad Yellow Chili Cheese with onions.  It was cheap and very yummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got tired and took a little siesta before heading out for the beach again. When we woke up, we went straight to Sunset Beach where we picked stones and splashed in the water. It was fun. We were like little kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we went back to try the pool and did the jacuzzi again before dressing up for the sunset at Sunset beach. When we got there, the flag ceremony just started and we saw a beautiful view of the sunset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For dinner, we wanted to splurge on something really good. So we decided to go to &lt;a href="http://www.unionparkdiningroom.com/"&gt;Union Park Dining Room&lt;/a&gt;. We are in this phase where we want to try new things and eat new food. We even ordered wine! So, I've never had Foie Gras and he gladly said we can order it from the menu. It was buttery and it was not one bit fishy or smelly. He ordered the Pork Tenderloin and I ordered the Kobe Burger. Everything was perfect! The tenderloin was so tasty, and it was different. It was sweet and tangy and salty at the same time. My burger was soo juicy. We savored every last bit.  For dessert, we had funnel cake from the arcade. It was crunchy and yummy and we ate it while listening to the waves hit the shore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sad to wake up in the morning knowing that the mini-vacay was over. We had lunch on the way home and got lost, and I panicked and he calmed me down, and found our way back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back home we settled for good old Popeyes for dinner while watching his much-awaited season finale of Avatar. We slept soundly that night and woke up to reality. It was back to the grind for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next mini-vacay, Chicago!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&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/22313421-7761246118519061013?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/7761246118519061013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=7761246118519061013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7761246118519061013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7761246118519061013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/07/long-kwento-about-my-beach-trip.html' title='a long kwento about my beach trip!'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-554383679867541828</id><published>2008-07-04T17:08:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T17:11:25.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>im happy. he makes me happy. i just hope i make him happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-554383679867541828?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/554383679867541828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=554383679867541828' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/554383679867541828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/554383679867541828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-happy.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-4380632070815643197</id><published>2008-04-06T19:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T22:12:20.561-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a really mushy entry</title><content type='html'>i miss him. i wish the weekends were longer. i wish he could stay longer. my bed doesnt feel the same without him in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like the way we sleep. knowing me, i don't like it when people crowd me on my side of the bed. my side is my side. but with him, the presence is welcome. he pushes me to the wall and won't give me space and even hugs me while i sleep and i like it. sometimes, he buries me in his chest with his hug and even if normally i couldnt breathe in that position, instead, i sleep really well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im counting the days until our long weekend together. we get to play house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-4380632070815643197?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/4380632070815643197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=4380632070815643197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4380632070815643197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4380632070815643197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/04/really-mushy-entry_06.html' title='a really mushy entry'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-6518732296420501960</id><published>2008-03-13T21:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T21:39:23.924-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i am a very moody person. when it's that time of the month, my emotions run wild. sometimes, i can't help but feel annoyed or not wanting to see anyone or not wanting to talk or i can just be such a bitch. i guess i am hard to understand and i am hard to please sometimes. that is a part of me that is hard to accept and i found people who understand that part of me. so to you, i am not doing this to annoy you. this is the way i am. and you can't seem to understand me when i need you to. but it's ok. it makes me understand you more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-6518732296420501960?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/6518732296420501960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=6518732296420501960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6518732296420501960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6518732296420501960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-am-very-moody-person.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-2961492451976601916</id><published>2008-02-13T22:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T22:50:43.379-05:00</updated><title type='text'>appropriate for valentines day</title><content type='html'>so this is how it feels when you're used. this is how it feels when you're dropped out of nowhere. this is how it feels when suddenly, you're out of the circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's done is done. there are no more take backs. none at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-2961492451976601916?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/2961492451976601916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=2961492451976601916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2961492451976601916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2961492451976601916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/02/appropriate-for-valentines-day.html' title='appropriate for valentines day'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5260528029652244057</id><published>2008-02-10T13:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T13:38:47.384-05:00</updated><title type='text'>random thoughts</title><content type='html'>Back in highschool, I remember having to deal with my ex-boyfriend's mom. She does not like me at all. She made me feel that I was too fat, too brown, too wild for his goody-two shoed son and that I wasn't too good for him. I was told that I distracted his son from studying and from graduating valedictorian of the class. I have to admit, I did some things that distracted him a bit but not enough to take him out of the race of being the smartest kid in our class. Whatever happened was his own doing. Besides, I was in the running too, just in case his mom didn't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the one time that I felt really good about myself because of what she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a project due the next day and we had to stay late to type some of our papers and finish up the project in his house. It was me, him and two more friends that were there. It was my turn to type when she came out of her lair. I turned my face and pretended that I didn't see her. She started talking to my other friends. She said, "&lt;em&gt;Lumabas na pala yung results ng UPCAT. At isa lang pumasa galing sa school? Galing naman nya."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends glance over in my direction with a smile on their faces. More like a smirk, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because little did she know, that that one person, was me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5260528029652244057?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5260528029652244057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5260528029652244057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5260528029652244057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5260528029652244057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/02/random-thoughts.html' title='random thoughts'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-4834020144146223679</id><published>2008-01-19T14:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T14:25:48.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bat ganun?</title><content type='html'>iba eh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-4834020144146223679?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/4834020144146223679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=4834020144146223679' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4834020144146223679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4834020144146223679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/01/bat-ganun.html' title='bat ganun?'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-8739182090158075621</id><published>2008-01-19T14:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T14:23:42.757-05:00</updated><title type='text'>from les</title><content type='html'>it's long and mostly true. what do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width="350" align="center" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bg align="center" style="color:#EEEEEE;"&gt;&lt;span style="'color:black;font-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What Janice Ira Tuazon Means&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/whatsyournameshiddenmeaningquiz/name.gif" height="100" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are fair, honest, and logical. You are a natural leader, and people respect you.&lt;br /&gt;You never give up, and you will succeed... even if it takes you a hundred tries.&lt;br /&gt;You are rational enough to see every part of a problem. You are great at giving other people advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are usually the best at everything ... you strive for perfection.&lt;br /&gt;You are confident, authoritative, and aggressive.&lt;br /&gt;You have the classic "Type A" personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are very intuitive and wise. You understand the world better than most people.&lt;br /&gt;You also have a very active imagination. You often get carried away with your thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;You are prone to a little paranoia and jealousy. You sometimes go overboard in interpreting signals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You tend to be pretty tightly wound. It's easy to get you excited... which can be a good or bad thing.&lt;br /&gt;You have a lot of enthusiasm, but it fades rather quickly. You don't stick with any one thing for very long.&lt;br /&gt;You have the drive to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time. Your biggest problem is making sure you finish the projects you start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are very open. You communicate well, and you connect with other people easily.&lt;br /&gt;You are a naturally creative person. Ideas just flow from your mind.&lt;br /&gt;A true chameleon, you are many things at different points in your life. You are very adaptable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are friendly, charming, and warm. You get along with almost everyone.&lt;br /&gt;You work hard not to rock the boat. Your easy going attitude brings people together.&lt;br /&gt;At times, you can be a little flaky and irresponsible. But for the important things, you pull it together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are wild, crazy, and a huge rebel. You're always up to something.&lt;br /&gt;You have a ton of energy, and most people can't handle you. You're very intense.&lt;br /&gt;You definitely are a handful, and you're likely to get in trouble. But your kind of trouble is a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a seeker. You often find yourself restless - and you have a lot of questions about life.&lt;br /&gt;You tend to travel often, to fairly random locations. You're most comfortable when you're far away from home.&lt;br /&gt;You are quite passionate and easily tempted. Your impulses sometimes get you into trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a very lucky person. Things just always seem to go your way.&lt;br /&gt;And because you're so lucky, you don't really have a lot of worries. You just hope for the best in life.&lt;br /&gt;You're sometimes a little guilty of being greedy. Spread your luck around a little to people who need it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are incredibly wise and perceptive. You have a lot of life experience.&lt;br /&gt;You are a natural peacemaker, and you are especially good at helping others get along.&lt;br /&gt;But keeping the peace in your own life is not easy. You see things very differently, and it's hard to get you to budge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are well rounded, with a complete perspective on life.&lt;br /&gt;You are solid and dependable. You are loyal, and people can count on you.&lt;br /&gt;At times, you can be a bit too serious. You tend to put too much pressure on yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyournameshiddenmeaningquiz/"&gt;What's Your Name's Hidden Meaning?&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/22313421-8739182090158075621?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/8739182090158075621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=8739182090158075621' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8739182090158075621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8739182090158075621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2008/01/from-les.html' title='from les'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-8239384382714461790</id><published>2007-11-25T21:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T21:56:21.864-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bittersweet</title><content type='html'>im soo happy that i get to hug and kiss and see and talk and hug and cuddle with my family again this christmas but then again, i dont get to hug and kiss and see and talk and hug and hug him till next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but, family! yey!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-8239384382714461790?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/8239384382714461790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=8239384382714461790' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8239384382714461790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8239384382714461790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/11/bittersweet.html' title='bittersweet'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-4610628936107126810</id><published>2007-11-12T21:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T21:26:24.965-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a blast from the past</title><content type='html'>thank you, ****, because of you i have learned to appreciate &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;. i have learned to love how i sleep, eat, talk, walk, run, laugh, and all the small details that i used to be ashamed of. i learned how to love myself and have confidence in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i can repay you for the things you have done for me, i wish can do more for you or at least give you what you have given me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-4610628936107126810?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/4610628936107126810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=4610628936107126810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4610628936107126810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4610628936107126810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/11/blast-from-past.html' title='a blast from the past'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-9182138370604328734</id><published>2007-11-05T20:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T21:12:23.629-05:00</updated><title type='text'>that time again</title><content type='html'>tama si malu, at the end of the day, all you really have is yourself, and no one else. so you have to make yourself happy and not depend your hapiness on someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im glad someone cares tho. im glad that someone wants to make me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know that i sabotage what i have most of the time and i don't know when to stop doing it. i want to, you know, open up and surrender. he's right. i shouldnt worry too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess it's the virgo in me that overanalyze everything in sight because when it comes to the matters of me, im careful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;still happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-9182138370604328734?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/9182138370604328734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=9182138370604328734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/9182138370604328734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/9182138370604328734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/11/that-time-again.html' title='that time again'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-3167748132780976303</id><published>2007-10-26T22:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T23:02:32.518-05:00</updated><title type='text'>happy banana</title><content type='html'>really, i am. didnt think id feel this way but, i do. &lt;em&gt;simple lang naman ang meron&lt;/em&gt;, i dont technically &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; someone, but this does it for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's true what he said about me finding him funny. i thought he was very corny &lt;em&gt;dati&lt;/em&gt;. but now, i laugh at his corny jokes. he laughs at my lame &lt;em&gt;hirits&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;makulit daw ako&lt;/em&gt;. of course not! sometimes, my kids rub off me &lt;em&gt;lang&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he likes to hug. i like it when he hugs me. he gives me a huge bear hug that makes me feel... safe, and i like that. i like how he wants me to always be under his arms, in the little nook where my head fits perfectly between his shoulders and his arm. i now understand carrie, from sex and the city, when she described the perfect place for her head when she is in aidan's arms&lt;em&gt;. ganun pala yun&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he said time is slow when we're together. but i disagree. i think that time goes by too fast when we're together. it's always &lt;em&gt;kulang&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im happy. hopefully, he's happy too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thing is, i have a feeling there's darkness looming around the corner. and i hope it never comes around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-3167748132780976303?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/3167748132780976303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=3167748132780976303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3167748132780976303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3167748132780976303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/10/happy-banana.html' title='happy banana'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-1193675100825369636</id><published>2007-09-20T21:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:04.932-05:00</updated><title type='text'>help!</title><content type='html'>i cant decide on what to get. help!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;this:&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112475925045666930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RvMpxEsVZHI/AAAAAAAAAIo/bbi05lptXOY/s320/product-white.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;or this:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112476826988799106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RvMqlksVZII/AAAAAAAAAIw/04_35w4RgQk/s320/VGNCR190EP.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-1193675100825369636?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/1193675100825369636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=1193675100825369636' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1193675100825369636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1193675100825369636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/09/help.html' title='help!'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RvMpxEsVZHI/AAAAAAAAAIo/bbi05lptXOY/s72-c/product-white.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-2083343135473353437</id><published>2007-09-12T20:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:06.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'>another year</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;this past year was full of surprises, ups, downs and unexpected people showing up and people leaving me. i was sad, i was happy, i was on the brink of sadness and i had my highs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i am glad to be able to spend the beginning of my new year with you guys. thank you for making this one of my best ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109499036059431394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiWTVCF8eI/AAAAAAAAAIg/IyL61nZW8Lc/s320/IMG_0031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiWLlCF8dI/AAAAAAAAAIY/uBlUO8zzBJs/s1600-h/IMG_0030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109498902915445202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiWLlCF8dI/AAAAAAAAAIY/uBlUO8zzBJs/s320/IMG_0030.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiWD1CF8cI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/XQGXb6R9CQg/s1600-h/IMG_0022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109498769771459010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiWD1CF8cI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/XQGXb6R9CQg/s320/IMG_0022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiV9FCF8bI/AAAAAAAAAII/1TeyzuKnocw/s1600-h/IMG_0025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109498653807342002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiV9FCF8bI/AAAAAAAAAII/1TeyzuKnocw/s320/IMG_0025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiV31CF8aI/AAAAAAAAAIA/iSJceN6X7fw/s1600-h/IMG_0019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109498563613028770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiV31CF8aI/AAAAAAAAAIA/iSJceN6X7fw/s320/IMG_0019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiVzVCF8ZI/AAAAAAAAAH4/1UFkIGAq36c/s1600-h/IMG_0018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109498486303617426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiVzVCF8ZI/AAAAAAAAAH4/1UFkIGAq36c/s320/IMG_0018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiVrlCF8YI/AAAAAAAAAHw/pVE-OCPbM-8/s1600-h/IMG_0013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109498353159631234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiVrlCF8YI/AAAAAAAAAHw/pVE-OCPbM-8/s320/IMG_0013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiViVCF8XI/AAAAAAAAAHo/l-WZGm3jDR4/s1600-h/IMG_0004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109498194245841266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiViVCF8XI/AAAAAAAAAHo/l-WZGm3jDR4/s320/IMG_0004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-2083343135473353437?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/2083343135473353437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=2083343135473353437' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2083343135473353437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2083343135473353437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/09/another-year.html' title='another year'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RuiWTVCF8eI/AAAAAAAAAIg/IyL61nZW8Lc/s72-c/IMG_0031.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-6028987857001028751</id><published>2007-09-04T22:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T22:15:10.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>daddy,</title><content type='html'>you are most welcome to come visit me in my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can also let me see you if you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know you're in a peaceful place now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just want to see you again, de.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;please?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-6028987857001028751?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/6028987857001028751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=6028987857001028751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6028987857001028751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6028987857001028751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/09/daddy.html' title='daddy,'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-541000472539675039</id><published>2007-08-26T18:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T18:30:13.982-05:00</updated><title type='text'>from a psychsoc peep</title><content type='html'>thank you sheila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"At the end of the day, when it comes down to it, all we really want is to be close to somebody. So this thing where we all keep our distance and pretend not to care about each other, it's usually a load of bull. So we pick and choose who we want to remain close to, and once we've chosen those people, we tend to stick close by. No matter how much we hurt them. The people that are still with you at the end of the day, those are the ones worth keeping. And sure, sometimes close can be too close. But sometimes, that invasion of personal space, it can be exactly what you need."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i agree, and im glad that the people i want to be with, want me to be with them as well. there are more important things in the world than making other people happy when the ones that really matter are already happy, no matter what you do, no matter what happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-541000472539675039?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/541000472539675039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=541000472539675039' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/541000472539675039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/541000472539675039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/08/from-psychsoc-peep.html' title='from a psychsoc peep'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-86167493397682814</id><published>2007-08-19T16:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:06.624-05:00</updated><title type='text'>to de</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rsi74pJ0uhI/AAAAAAAAAHg/tbMnPX2oCHg/s1600-h/P1030029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100533159791213074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rsi74pJ0uhI/AAAAAAAAAHg/tbMnPX2oCHg/s320/P1030029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; daddy, madaya ka. nangiwan ka. sabi mo pupuntahan mo ako dito. sabi mo excited ka na pumunta dito kahit malayo ako, kahit matagal yung biyahe. sabi mo you cant wait na bilhan kita ng packs and packs ng white hanes t-shirt mo. excited na din ako pakita sa iyo yung buhay ko dito. pero ngayon, di na pwede. pano nyan, di man lang kita makikita ulit. im sorry de. hindi ako makakauwi. sorry talaga. sana wag ka mag tampo sa akin ha. alam mo naman na love na love kita. i just wish i couldve done more for you. im sorry for leaving without even kissing you. sana the last time i talked to you i said i love you. sana you know that i do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-86167493397682814?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/86167493397682814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=86167493397682814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/86167493397682814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/86167493397682814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/08/to-de.html' title='to de'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rsi74pJ0uhI/AAAAAAAAAHg/tbMnPX2oCHg/s72-c/P1030029.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-7360257881559521459</id><published>2007-08-12T19:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T19:06:57.217-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>blackprincess888: that u are this wonderful person that can be vulnerable but is capable of strength as well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blackprincess888: dude were all vulnerable at some point&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blackprincess888: if were not, then were not people&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-7360257881559521459?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/7360257881559521459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=7360257881559521459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7360257881559521459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7360257881559521459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/08/blackprincess888-that-u-are-this.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-6385931558699494972</id><published>2007-08-09T21:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T21:29:21.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when you ask for a sign from God, does he ever give it to you? my mom always tells me to pray and pray and pray for a sign from Him whenever im lost or in need of guidance. i guess it works for her, but for me, whenever i need it the most, &lt;em&gt;parang wala eh&lt;/em&gt;. i wait and wait, but nothing comes to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there was this one time he gave me a total slap in the face as a sign and i couldnt help but listen to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess silence means something, too. maybe i should listen more carefully.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-6385931558699494972?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/6385931558699494972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=6385931558699494972' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6385931558699494972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6385931558699494972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/08/when-you-ask-for-sign-from-god-does-he.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-7413268907390937165</id><published>2007-08-07T19:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:07.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'>respite</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrkS_9TDfuI/AAAAAAAAAHY/p6cpPq4dOC0/s1600-h/Picture+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096125343341969122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrkS_9TDfuI/AAAAAAAAAHY/p6cpPq4dOC0/s320/Picture+017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrkS4tTDftI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/W4WICWoj0Pg/s1600-h/Picture+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096125218787917522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrkS4tTDftI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/W4WICWoj0Pg/s320/Picture+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrkSwtTDfsI/AAAAAAAAAHI/hRO0qef6_fQ/s1600-h/Picture+026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096125081348964034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrkSwtTDfsI/AAAAAAAAAHI/hRO0qef6_fQ/s320/Picture+026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrkSZdTDfqI/AAAAAAAAAG4/R-Ul3uu_G_s/s1600-h/Picture+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096124681917005474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrkSZdTDfqI/AAAAAAAAAG4/R-Ul3uu_G_s/s320/Picture+043.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-7413268907390937165?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/7413268907390937165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=7413268907390937165' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7413268907390937165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7413268907390937165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/08/respite.html' title='respite'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrkS_9TDfuI/AAAAAAAAAHY/p6cpPq4dOC0/s72-c/Picture+017.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5748793145041288783</id><published>2007-08-05T18:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:07.637-05:00</updated><title type='text'>pushing tin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrZxMtTDfoI/AAAAAAAAAGo/Gc--jPebi1k/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095384491548180098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrZxMtTDfoI/AAAAAAAAAGo/Gc--jPebi1k/s320/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;   this is why i don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   it's scary to go through it all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5748793145041288783?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5748793145041288783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5748793145041288783' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5748793145041288783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5748793145041288783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/08/pushing-tin.html' title='pushing tin'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RrZxMtTDfoI/AAAAAAAAAGo/Gc--jPebi1k/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5414430449603231625</id><published>2007-08-04T21:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T21:26:42.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i like the beach, the sea. it gives me a feeling of freedom, of unlimited possibilities. it makes me feel like anything could happen, good or bad. you do not really know what's going on unless you look deeper into it. when you're there, you can't fight the current, you can't fight the waves, because if you do, it takes you further away from where you really want to go. the waves taught me how to let it all go, all my inhibitions, my fears, my worries, and just go with the flow, go to wherever it may take me, to let it do the driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's a good lesson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it helps me loosen up, when i think about things a little too much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5414430449603231625?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5414430449603231625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5414430449603231625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5414430449603231625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5414430449603231625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-like-beach-sea.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-1805287017782861590</id><published>2007-07-31T21:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T21:43:21.711-05:00</updated><title type='text'>kaw ha.</title><content type='html'>iba ka na. dami na nagbago. sabi mo iba ka sa kanila, di din. pareho lang din. sabi mo bago ka, ibang klase. di din ah. katulad mo din sila eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;basta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero ok lang. ano pa nga ba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bahala na.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-1805287017782861590?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/1805287017782861590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=1805287017782861590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1805287017782861590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1805287017782861590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/07/kaw-ha.html' title='kaw ha.'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5738862433289109894</id><published>2007-07-29T17:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T17:22:08.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Will this ever work?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't know. you tell me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5738862433289109894?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5738862433289109894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5738862433289109894' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5738862433289109894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5738862433289109894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/07/will-this-ever-work-i-dont-know.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-6891689096479438861</id><published>2007-07-26T19:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T19:23:04.297-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the chain:</title><content type='html'>hirap. gulo. kakaiba. ewan. masarap. masaya. malungkot. fun. refreshing. frustrating. weird. good. friend. distant. open. close. limited. complicated. adventure. pleasure. displeasure. comforting. scary. unstable. movies. harrypotter. unexpected. final. short. now. later. other. second. choice. protector. destroyer. rewarding. silence. quiet. flattering. blocked. stop. na.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-6891689096479438861?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/6891689096479438861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=6891689096479438861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6891689096479438861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6891689096479438861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/07/chain.html' title='the chain:'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5481862888499511640</id><published>2007-07-19T21:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T22:00:03.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>should i give myself a chance? should i let my guard down? should i put myself out there and take the risk? believe me, im trying to, im already out there, im waiting and im vunerable. i thought if i opened up, everything will fall into it's place. but it doesnt seem like it's reaping any rewards. it's just causing me so much stress, and pain and longing i have'nt felt in a while. my kuya told me that i should be more careful because he said, everything could go wrong in a snap of a finger.  &lt;em&gt;i seriously believe you kuya, i do.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are days where im glad i let myself feel this way, there are days that i regret opening up. it's sometimes nice to depend on someone, to have someone support you every now and then. because we cant be strong all the time, right? but, when they can't step up, it hurts you more than you expect. problem is, you can't really ask for more. because that's all they can give to you. you have to settle. you have to be content. because you have no right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am i just being strung along this rocky road? or is it for real?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it feels like we're just playing. nothing serious. nothing real. but sometimes i feel like there's something there. something worth staying for. sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do i stay or do i go? do i stop this &lt;em&gt;kalokohan&lt;/em&gt; now while it's still new and save myself from hurting? or do i just dive in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Run, Forrest! Run!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- Jenny, &lt;/em&gt;Forrest Gump&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5481862888499511640?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5481862888499511640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5481862888499511640' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5481862888499511640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5481862888499511640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/07/should-i-give-myself-chance-should-i.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-6135090951529906178</id><published>2007-07-11T21:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T21:01:36.239-05:00</updated><title type='text'>hide and seek</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;							&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;object height='80' width='300'&gt;&lt;param value='http://media.imeem.com/m/Or4MXVCT9c/aus=false/' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;param value='transparent' name='wmode'/&gt;&lt;embed wmode='transparent' height='80' width='300' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://media.imeem.com/m/Or4MXVCT9c/aus=false/'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Where are we? What the hell is going on?&lt;br /&gt;The dust has only just begun to form,&lt;br /&gt;Crop circles in the carpet, sinking, feeling.&lt;br /&gt;Spin me round again and rub my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;This can't be happening.&lt;br /&gt;When busy streets a mess with people&lt;br /&gt;would stop to hold their heads heavy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hide and seek.&lt;br /&gt;Trains and sewing machines.&lt;br /&gt;All those years they were here first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oily marks appear on walls&lt;br /&gt;Where pleasure moments hung before.&lt;br /&gt;The takeover, the sweeping insensitivity of this&lt;br /&gt;still life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hide and seek.&lt;br /&gt;Trains and sewing machines. (Oh, you won't catch me around here)&lt;br /&gt;Blood and tears,&lt;br /&gt;They were here first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm, what you say?&lt;br /&gt;Mm, that you only meant well? Well, of course you did.&lt;br /&gt;Mmm, what you say?&lt;br /&gt;Mm, that it's all for the best? Ah of course it is.&lt;br /&gt;Mmm, what you say?&lt;br /&gt;Mm, that it's just what we need? And you decided this.&lt;br /&gt;Mmm what you say?&lt;br /&gt;What did she say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth.&lt;br /&gt;Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs.&lt;br /&gt;Speak no feeling, no I dont believe you.&lt;br /&gt;You don't care a bit. You don't care a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth.&lt;br /&gt;Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut-outs.&lt;br /&gt;Speak no feeling, no I don't believe you.&lt;br /&gt;You don't care a bit. You don't care a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't care a bit.&lt;br /&gt;You don't care a bit.&lt;br /&gt;You don't care a bit.&lt;br /&gt;You don't care a bit.&lt;br /&gt;You don't care a bit.&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/22313421-6135090951529906178?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/6135090951529906178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=6135090951529906178' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6135090951529906178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6135090951529906178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/07/hide-and-seek.html' title='hide and seek'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-8513471814887304502</id><published>2007-07-09T19:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T19:12:21.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>bakit makanita ing biye ku. ala na talagang megbayu. palagi namung aku ing manatindi or yaku namu ing mas mikaburi keng tau a kaluguran ku. minsan bala ku sana maswerte naku kening tau a ini. pero ali ku pa pala. mashadung marakal drama keng pamiyabe mi. mashadung kumplicadu at mashadung marakal ali mikaburi. anti mo i koya na dati keng kaluguran na sanang masaya ya na miyabe kami ning wali na, ngeni ali na naku mo paksabyan at ali na naku sabi uling ketang milyari kekeming adwa na balu ming mali.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lawen mu keng kayabe ku ngeni, sasabyan namu na buri naku istung ikami mung adwa ing miyabe. pero istung keng arap da reng aliwang tau, ali na man apakit. anggang sabyan ku kareng kaluguran ku, ali la man maniwala uling ali na naman papakit kanaku. masikan ya lub talnan ing gamat ku istung ikami mung adwa, or uman keng pisngi, pero istung atsu nakami keng kilwal, balamu pakiramdam ku pikarine naku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;istung managkat kung mulwal, yaku mu ing managkat. ali naku pa inagkat mikit or munta kening bale. purus mung yaku. minsan pin pakiramdam ku yaku mu ing mikaburing mikit kami eh. nung eke agkat eneman munta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nung ika mo nanu keng palage mu ing buri ng malyari? kutnen ke ba nung nanung buri ng malyari? or mashadu pang maranun? baka naman tumakut ya at pulayan naku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mayap pa yatang ali ke pa paksabyan. oneng sasabyan na napin kanaku na mashadu ku kanung mapagdabug at mashadu ku kanung madrama. pero tutu naman ing sasabyan ku. siguru pin istu ku na eganaganang lalake paraparehu lamu. sasabyan na mo kanaku kanita na ya kanu aliwa ya. pero ngeni keng ayakit ku, kaparehu nalamu. alang pegbayu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alang megbayu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-8513471814887304502?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/8513471814887304502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=8513471814887304502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8513471814887304502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8513471814887304502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/07/bakit-makanita-ing-biye-ku.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-7638624376651123867</id><published>2007-07-05T20:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-05T20:09:32.356-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i hate your stinkin' guts. you make me vomit, you're the scum between my toes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;little rascals&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-7638624376651123867?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/7638624376651123867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=7638624376651123867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7638624376651123867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7638624376651123867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-hate-your-stinkin-guts.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-4883112989100927877</id><published>2007-06-27T19:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T19:46:30.955-05:00</updated><title type='text'>unlucky</title><content type='html'>ok ok, i think i get it. you dont have to shove it in my face that im so unlucky in love. i know that i like the wrong guys and look past the ones that are good to me. i know that i get bored easy with some people and that my taste for adventure has gotten me in trouble more than once in my life. i know that there are people that are off limits, but i still ask the universe to do the opposite of what i should be doing. i am never with the one who is patient with me or gives me flowers just for the heck of it. i am never with the one who calls me just to say hi, or goodnight, or i hope youre eating and not exercising too much. i am never with the one who shows up on my doorstep one lazy afternoon to surprise me with his hugs. i am never with the one who brings me home, or makes sure that i am home, or picks me up when i need him to. i am never with the one who is not afraid to hold my hand infront of everyone or give me a peck on the cheek. i am never the with the one who is content with just lying in bed, hugging or watching tv or some movie we will never understand because we would be looking at each other the whole time anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have, however, been with the one who throws all the tantrums, the one who is pickier than me, the one who always gets his way, the one who holds your hand infront of other people but holds another's hand when youre not looking, a stalker (unbelievable, i know!), and someone who thinks he has the right to do whatever he wants with you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am still hopeful, though i've seen and heard so much about these things. my first thought is that i've been watching too many drew barrymore movies, but also, all of us deserve to have that kind of love once in our lives.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am never going to sit around and wait for it to come. i will still go about and live my life. but i will still wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-4883112989100927877?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/4883112989100927877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=4883112989100927877' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4883112989100927877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4883112989100927877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/06/unlucky.html' title='unlucky'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-8733552962695743457</id><published>2007-06-23T16:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T16:26:50.669-05:00</updated><title type='text'>thanks malu</title><content type='html'>while malu was driving me home just this afternoon, we were listening to her old school the sound of music cd in her car. she told me about this song that tells about how maria, julie andrews' character in the movie, was thinking that she must've done something good in her past to deserve what she had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd like to feel the same way someday. i am not looking for it right now, i am happy just the way im living my life. but maybe someday when im tired of this, then, i'd like to be able to say the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I had a wicked childhood&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I had a miserable youth&lt;br /&gt;But somwhere in my wicked, miserable past&lt;br /&gt;There must have been a moment of truth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For here you are, standing there, loving me&lt;br /&gt;Whether or not you should&lt;br /&gt;So somewhere in my youth or childhood&lt;br /&gt;I must have done something good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing comes from nothing&lt;br /&gt;Nothing ever could&lt;br /&gt;So somewhere in my youth or childhood&lt;br /&gt;I must have done something good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For here you are, standing there, loving me&lt;br /&gt;Whether or not you should&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So somewhere in my youth or childhood&lt;br /&gt;I must have done something good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing comes from nothing&lt;br /&gt;Nothing ever could&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So somewhere in my youth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or childhood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must have done something . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something good&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-8733552962695743457?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/8733552962695743457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=8733552962695743457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8733552962695743457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8733552962695743457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/06/thanks-malu.html' title='thanks malu'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-706965944833518919</id><published>2007-05-30T19:06:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T19:14:08.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>salamat sa iyo</title><content type='html'>why do i have this empty feeling inside me? i feel butterflies in my tummy, not because im happy or anticipating, but something opposite of that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you think you know someone, but it ends up that you only know the tip of the iceberg. the past few weeks were tough on me. it tested my sanity and my tolerance and my morals. i feel like i just want to get away but i can't escape it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel ashamed, i feel embarassed, i feel insignificant already, and i dont need anyone else telling me this over and over because i can not take it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now, i just need friends. real friends. friends who truly care. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;somehow im glad ive been through what ive been through. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found out who really cares, who respects me as i am and who still loves me despite and inspite of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so thank YOU, you, You, you and you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-706965944833518919?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/706965944833518919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=706965944833518919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/706965944833518919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/706965944833518919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/05/why-do-i-have-this-empty-feeling-inside.html' title='salamat sa iyo'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5904411091966570647</id><published>2007-05-23T20:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T20:07:18.027-05:00</updated><title type='text'>i just realized</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;							&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;object height='80' width='300'&gt;&lt;param value='http://media.imeem.com/m/uuDh_2cezy/aus=false/' name='movie'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param value='transparent' name='wmode'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed wmode='transparent' height='80' width='300' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://media.imeem.com/m/uuDh_2cezy/aus=false/'&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;It is so easy to see&lt;br /&gt;Dysfunction between you and me&lt;br /&gt;We must free up these tired souls&lt;br /&gt;Before the sadness kills us both&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried and tried to let you know&lt;br /&gt;I love you but I'm letting go&lt;br /&gt;It may not last but I don't know&lt;br /&gt;Just don't know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know&lt;br /&gt;Then you can't care&lt;br /&gt;And you show up&lt;br /&gt;But you're not there&lt;br /&gt;But I'm waiting&lt;br /&gt;And you want to&lt;br /&gt;Still afraid that I will desert you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday&lt;br /&gt;With every worthless word we get more far away&lt;br /&gt;The distance between us makes it so hard to stay&lt;br /&gt;But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe&lt;br /&gt;It hurts but it may be the only way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bed that's warm with memories&lt;br /&gt;Can heal us temporarily&lt;br /&gt;The misbehaving only makes&lt;br /&gt;The ditch between us so damn deep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Built a wall around my heart&lt;br /&gt;I’ll never let it fall apart&lt;br /&gt;But strangely I wish secretly&lt;br /&gt;It would fall down while I'm asleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know&lt;br /&gt;Then you can't care&lt;br /&gt;And you show up&lt;br /&gt;But you're not there&lt;br /&gt;But I'm waiting&lt;br /&gt;And you want to&lt;br /&gt;Still afraid that I will desert you, babe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday&lt;br /&gt;With every worthless word we get more far away&lt;br /&gt;The distance between us makes it so hard to stay&lt;br /&gt;But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe&lt;br /&gt;It hurts but it may be the only way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tough we have not hit the ground&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't mean we're not still falling,&lt;br /&gt;Oh I want so bad to pick you up&lt;br /&gt;But you're still too reluctant to accept my help&lt;br /&gt;What a shame, I hope you find somewhere to place the blame&lt;br /&gt;But until then the fact remains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday&lt;br /&gt;With every worthless word we get more far away&lt;br /&gt;The distance between us makes you so hard to stay&lt;br /&gt;Nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe&lt;br /&gt;It hurts but it may be the only way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday&lt;br /&gt;With every worthless word we get more far away&lt;br /&gt;The distance between us makes it so hard to stay&lt;br /&gt;But nothing lasts forever, but be honest babe&lt;br /&gt;It hurts but it may be the only way&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/22313421-5904411091966570647?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5904411091966570647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5904411091966570647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5904411091966570647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5904411091966570647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-just-realized.html' title='i just realized'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-6870316844128954716</id><published>2007-05-22T22:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T22:30:50.061-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>see, this year is an emotional rollercoaster ride. when i saw my entry for new year's, i feel like taking back all that i said there. i do not want anything new, i do not want change and i definitely do not want what i have now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, it's a bit more exciting and a bit more than the usual attention that i get from people, but i do not like it. i thought i would, but i would rather have the old me back, the old wallflower, the old spinster me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was rather happy being all alone and not having to think about other people, but now, i care so much it sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;people think that i dont feel anything, but i do. i just dont show it. i learned not to show emotions because i learned it was a sign of weakness. i learned it the hard way and so now, i can say im hard on the outside but still soft inside. i cry. although it's been a while but i still do. every small thing people around me do have an effect on my mood. it does. i laugh when people are happy, im sad when people are sad. im quiet when it's awkward and i hurt when people say bad things about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i want to escape. i want to get out and just disappear. someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;if you still read me, id like you to know that im sorry. im still here and if you want to talk, just give me a call. il wait.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-6870316844128954716?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/6870316844128954716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=6870316844128954716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6870316844128954716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6870316844128954716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/05/see-this-year-is-emotional.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-7052184210953538172</id><published>2007-05-10T21:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T21:22:45.835-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>they say be careful what you wish for, and they are right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have had enough. i didn't want to be where i am now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-7052184210953538172?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/7052184210953538172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=7052184210953538172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7052184210953538172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7052184210953538172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/05/they-say-be-careful-what-you-wish-for.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-8455976658068002774</id><published>2007-05-09T19:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T19:51:48.157-05:00</updated><title type='text'>prayers</title><content type='html'>it's scary how almost every year, i hear about someone i know dying. worse, it's a batchmate from school. so far, we have 5 people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you'll be in my prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;em&gt;may they rest in peace&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;theresa grace hernandez&lt;br /&gt;james narcisco&lt;br /&gt;marvin malonzo&lt;br /&gt;edmund covas&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-8455976658068002774?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/8455976658068002774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=8455976658068002774' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8455976658068002774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8455976658068002774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/05/prayers.html' title='prayers'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-3853000928815956798</id><published>2007-05-08T21:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T19:26:29.885-05:00</updated><title type='text'>lost in space</title><content type='html'>when it's crunch time, we do not forget who we can go to for help. just when you think that they are gone, they come back, they open up their world again for you to consume, they're there for you again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i learned that people who stray away sometimes are just trying to find the way themselves. it's not because they do not want to be with you anymore, it's just that they want to try something new, learn something else and be someone else for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know how that feels, how it feels to crave for something different in our lives, something out of the ordinary and beyond the routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then when you see each other again somewhere down the road, you're both bigger, better and wiser. you have more to share with each other, more to talk about, more to learn about one another and that makes everything else new. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just when you think you lost someone, they come back to surprise you and let you know that they're still there, they're still with you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a different note:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why can't i just tell you how i feel about you, why can't i find the courage to face what i have done, or not done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-3853000928815956798?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/3853000928815956798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=3853000928815956798' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3853000928815956798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3853000928815956798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/05/lost-in-space.html' title='lost in space'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-866483942893118462</id><published>2007-04-29T17:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T17:29:12.966-05:00</updated><title type='text'>void</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;							&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;object height='80' width='300'&gt;&lt;param value='http://media.imeem.com/m/hy-fGBcX8n/aus=false/' name='movie'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param value='transparent' name='wmode'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed wmode='transparent' height='80' width='300' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://media.imeem.com/m/hy-fGBcX8n/aus=false/'&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;i am in the mood to do this.&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/22313421-866483942893118462?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/866483942893118462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=866483942893118462' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/866483942893118462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/866483942893118462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/04/void.html' title='void'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-3178294999757873124</id><published>2007-04-25T21:09:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T21:09:38.492-05:00</updated><title type='text'>milk</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;							&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;object height='80' width='300'&gt;&lt;param value='http://media.imeem.com/m/300zaeQT7o/aus=false/' name='movie'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param value='transparent' name='wmode'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed wmode='transparent' height='80' width='300' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://media.imeem.com/m/300zaeQT7o/aus=false/'&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/br&gt;I am milk &lt;br /&gt;I am Red Hot Kitchen &lt;br /&gt;And I am cool &lt;br /&gt;Cool as the deep blue ocean &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am lost &lt;br /&gt;So I am cruel &lt;br /&gt;But I'd be love and sweetness &lt;br /&gt;If I had you&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/22313421-3178294999757873124?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/3178294999757873124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=3178294999757873124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3178294999757873124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3178294999757873124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/04/milk.html' title='milk'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-8869838225102561793</id><published>2007-04-23T23:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:08.678-05:00</updated><title type='text'>that crazy night</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056848589353250370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Ri2I_-tV7kI/AAAAAAAAAFw/cSX_djg3nXY/s320/DSC02691.JPG" border="0" /&gt; saturday, april 22, 2007 is my most happiest, embarassing and most unforgettable day in my life..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that day was the first time i got kicked out of a club. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me! the goody-two-shoes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kicked out, escorted out by two bouncers who did the red-sea-moses &lt;em&gt;hawi&lt;/em&gt; the crowd to let me through..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Ri2LautV7mI/AAAAAAAAAGA/UQC8w2by8MU/s1600-h/DSC02663.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056851247938006626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Ri2LautV7mI/AAAAAAAAAGA/UQC8w2by8MU/s320/DSC02663.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;look at me! i was all dressed up, prettified myself, ready for a night of no-holds-barred dancing since i havent been out in a long time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;pre drinking was a bad idea. or was it a good one? i can not tell. i know my limit when it comes to alcohol. i know i couldve taken more alcohol without passing out like that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056852154176106114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Ri2MPetV7oI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/tjerbhIu0i4/s320/DSC02727.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056851780513951346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Ri2L5utV7nI/AAAAAAAAAGI/pV3YIhI_7Rs/s320/DSC02695.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that night, i crossed the line, from the land of the good girls, to the land of the people actually passing out and not know what they did when they wake up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I actually didnt know how i got home. i dont recall walking, i do not recall leaving the club or even puking in the bathroom. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Ri2Mr-tV7pI/AAAAAAAAAGY/4e680XvGhqA/s1600-h/DSC02694.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056852643802377874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Ri2Mr-tV7pI/AAAAAAAAAGY/4e680XvGhqA/s320/DSC02694.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Ri2Mr-tV7pI/AAAAAAAAAGY/4e680XvGhqA/s1600-h/DSC02694.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;all i knew was there were three people who took me home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;three friends who cleaned me up, carried me up three flights &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;of stairs, put me in bed, waited till i calmed down and even took me home the next day. three friends i owe lunch to when i sober up again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                   that's them ----&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;they say there's a first time for everything. i guess that was my turn. and i liked it. but it will never happen again. my friend jesse swore off tequila, and im swearing off vodka. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-8869838225102561793?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/8869838225102561793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=8869838225102561793' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8869838225102561793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8869838225102561793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/04/that-crazy-night.html' title='that crazy night'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Ri2I_-tV7kI/AAAAAAAAAFw/cSX_djg3nXY/s72-c/DSC02691.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5879856523136257357</id><published>2007-04-19T19:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T19:44:53.904-05:00</updated><title type='text'>it's been a long time</title><content type='html'>there are a lot of things that i have not done in a long time. but, i am glad that fate gave me the chance to experience them all over again, and now in a whole new light. i see everything in a different perspective.  everything is so different. my thought on friends changed, my disposition in life is more positive, my view of things to come, my personality, me. i changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was afraid to let myself go. but now, i feel free, i feel more independent. i found out that i do not need people to make me happy, i can do that myself. having my friends are a plus, definitely, but i learned that having them doesnt mean that im dependent on them. they do not complete me, they complement me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i complete me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5879856523136257357?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5879856523136257357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5879856523136257357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5879856523136257357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5879856523136257357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/04/its-been-long-time.html' title='it&apos;s been a long time'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-8942753050960988205</id><published>2007-03-22T22:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:08.852-05:00</updated><title type='text'>wish me luck!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RgNPVZJpdoI/AAAAAAAAAFc/W4QvuZnUdUg/s1600-h/Photo-0175.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044963236532287106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RgNPVZJpdoI/AAAAAAAAAFc/W4QvuZnUdUg/s320/Photo-0175.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;wish me luck tomorrow. the big day. the first date :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-8942753050960988205?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/8942753050960988205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=8942753050960988205' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8942753050960988205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/8942753050960988205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/03/wish-me-luck.html' title='wish me luck!'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RgNPVZJpdoI/AAAAAAAAAFc/W4QvuZnUdUg/s72-c/Photo-0175.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-7883888248541242984</id><published>2007-03-12T20:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:10.054-05:00</updated><title type='text'>atlantic city</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041217903335787090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RfYA-TurSlI/AAAAAAAAAEk/ZqT6BDZEUqM/s320/100_17232.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041218693609769586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RfYBsTurSnI/AAAAAAAAAE0/xZYFwVq_4sw/s320/100_1732.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041221339309623986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RfYEGTurSrI/AAAAAAAAAFU/oNW5yV94LwI/s320/100_1738.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041219797416364674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RfYCsjurSoI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gOlp9Bs6XsM/s320/100_1736.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041220072294271634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RfYC8jurSpI/AAAAAAAAAFE/8yvZTniz_Q4/s320/100_1709.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041220570510477986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RfYDZjurSqI/AAAAAAAAAFM/eTC9UWtfmcc/s320/100_1699.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Atlantic City, New Jersey&lt;br /&gt;March 10, 2007&lt;br /&gt;Choyette, Bryan, Marco, Victor, Alvin and Ira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-7883888248541242984?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/7883888248541242984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=7883888248541242984' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7883888248541242984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7883888248541242984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/03/atlantic-city.html' title='atlantic city'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RfYA-TurSlI/AAAAAAAAAEk/ZqT6BDZEUqM/s72-c/100_17232.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-1677414458888707169</id><published>2007-02-28T20:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T21:56:24.605-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my first time</title><content type='html'>febuary 11, was the first time i went speed dating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i told my friend that i would blog about it only if i get an email telling me that people actually chose me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, here's the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;during one of our dinners, a friend told me that i should sign up for speed dating, and said it would be a fun thing to do. i was a little apprehensive about the idea of going speed dating since i've always thought that speed dating is for losers, or desperate people. so i put my decision in the hands of another friend, who i thought would say no for the both of us. unfortunately, he said he would go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, a week before, i was flustered, nervous, and i was practicing my opening speech, or sentence since we only get 5 minutes to talk to people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all speed daters had to send in a 4-item questionnare to the organizer and to confirm, they will send back an email saying you're in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so the friday before, i received my confirmation email, but my two friends who were supposed to join did not get theirs. it ended up with just me doing the thing and them off the hook because i guess there were more guys than girls. my hopes of being in a list were crushed. because at the end of the speed date, you're supposed to list down the people you like, and if there was a mutual match, then they would send you contact details. i was hoping that if i had two friends in the speed dating thing, i would be in at least their lists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, the day came, i asked my friend to join me in grabbing a couple of drinks before heading there. i needed the boost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when we got there, i felt flutters in my tummy, i was very nervous. my state would have probably been worse if i didnt have 2 beers and a tequila shot in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so there i was, giddy and nervous and smiling like there's no tomorrow. my three friends who went with me gave me the thumbs up when it all started. before i knew it, i was talking to people, i was actually interacting with people i barely know. i was a different person that night. i had confidence i never knew i had in me. i sat there, drink in hand (thanks dennis), smile plastered across my face, asking personal questions to at least 10 people, 10 guys i would never have the courage to talk to if we were in a different situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everything went into a whirl of people coming and going, drinks and hand shakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when it all ended, i felt free. it liberated me. i felt confident that i could do anything after that. and you know what's awesome about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found out that 6 guys put me in their list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;6 guys!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can you believe it? i couldnt believe it. even if i didnt get an actual date out of it, i am happy knowing that 6 guys chose ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;whee. im so glad i did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;thanks dennis, for inviting me and for giving me the chance to do it and for your words of encouragement. thanks too, for flying in earlier than you had to so that you'd be there to support me :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;thanks victor, for agreeing to come, for coming with me to support me, kahit off the hook ka na, and for coming in earlier and for having those drinks with me, for taking the shot even if you didnt want to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;thanks alvin, for being there to support me, for giving me the confidence and the thumbs up and for ride din :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-1677414458888707169?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/1677414458888707169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=1677414458888707169' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1677414458888707169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1677414458888707169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-first-time_28.html' title='my first time'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-777549021156560788</id><published>2007-02-27T21:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T21:48:47.973-05:00</updated><title type='text'>happy?</title><content type='html'>is the world completely fcuked up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he's happy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for gawd's sakes, why?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i'm&lt;/strong&gt; supposed to be happy, not him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-777549021156560788?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/777549021156560788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=777549021156560788' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/777549021156560788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/777549021156560788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/02/happy.html' title='happy?'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-914981424163486148</id><published>2007-02-21T23:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T23:26:56.412-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my happyness for today</title><content type='html'>the sunshine that was trying to break through the dawn clouds at 6:30 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this means only one thing,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Spring&lt;/em&gt; is just around the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-914981424163486148?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/914981424163486148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=914981424163486148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/914981424163486148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/914981424163486148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-happyness-for-today.html' title='my happyness for today'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-7493474739726254575</id><published>2007-02-17T23:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T23:53:04.245-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sometimes i forget</title><content type='html'>all my adult life, i've learned this lesson the hard way, &lt;em&gt;that if something is too good to be true, then it probably is&lt;/em&gt;. there is no such thing as a free lunch, no such thing as 'no strings attached'. there is always a catch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do i keep forgetting that? sometimes i find myself having faith in people, sometimes i trust them even. in those times, i almost always end up being disappointed. maybe i expect so much from them that it's unfair. i should just watch my own butt and look after myself. i shouldnt be dependent on other people, may it be for my food, for my ride, for my happiness, for my sanity. &lt;em&gt;i &lt;/em&gt;can do this. &lt;em&gt;i &lt;/em&gt;can make my own happiness, &lt;em&gt;i&lt;/em&gt; can take care of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;myself. &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;i.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-7493474739726254575?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/7493474739726254575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=7493474739726254575' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7493474739726254575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7493474739726254575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/02/sometimes-i-forget.html' title='sometimes i forget'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-1195615440758237826</id><published>2007-02-13T20:14:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:10.412-05:00</updated><title type='text'>a happy valentines to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RdUUBBK3IPI/AAAAAAAAAEI/O2IeFHMcuR0/s1600-h/image0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031950166382813426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RdUUBBK3IPI/AAAAAAAAAEI/O2IeFHMcuR0/s320/image0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;this is why i love my baby evie so much. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;she's a cockleshell now (the two's room) and i can not believe how big she's gotten. whenever she sees me pass by their room, i hear someone call me "&lt;em&gt;a-wa, a-wa! come in here a-wa"&lt;/em&gt; and i see her running to the door to greet me. she gives me hugs and kissies and only lets me zip her jacket up before she leaves in the evening. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;you're still my bestest little girl ever sweetie.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-1195615440758237826?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/1195615440758237826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=1195615440758237826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1195615440758237826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1195615440758237826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/02/happy-valentines-to-me.html' title='a happy valentines to me'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RdUUBBK3IPI/AAAAAAAAAEI/O2IeFHMcuR0/s72-c/image0.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-422610615491352234</id><published>2007-02-13T20:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T22:01:22.203-05:00</updated><title type='text'>para sa iyo</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;anak ng teteng naman oh, kaya na nga ako nagpapakalayo sa mga gusto ko kasi ayaw ko na ng ganito eh. ayaw ko ng ganito ang nararamdaman ko. ayaw kong umaasa ako sa iba. ayaw ko na inaasa ko sa iba ang kaligayahan ko. ayaw ko na nababadtrip ako dahil lang sa wala sha. ayaw ko na nabubwiset ako dahil lang sa hindi kita nakausap. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;mas gusto ko ng magisa.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;wala namang ganyanan. mahirap pag nasaktan ulit. di ko naman hawak ang desisyon mo. yun na mahirap eh, dahil sa alam kong wala akong pwedeng gawin, or sabihin sa iyo para maiba ang tingin mo sa akin, para maiba ang nasa isip mo. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy valentine's day&lt;em&gt; nalang sa iyo. kahit alam kong ibang tao ang iniisip mo. tulad ng kung pano kita isipin ngayon. bwiset.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-422610615491352234?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/422610615491352234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=422610615491352234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/422610615491352234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/422610615491352234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/02/para-sa-iyo.html' title='para sa iyo'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-16771596790437331</id><published>2007-02-13T20:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T22:04:01.669-05:00</updated><title type='text'>something for valentines day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;back then, a good friend sent me this to remind me that loving is not for the weak, it is for the strong and only the strong can survive it. and to not be afraid to fall in love, because it's worth taking the risk. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hardest Things In Love...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Flashing your smile to someone you don't want to see.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bringing back the feeling you've learned to forget.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Showing that you care.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Finding a way to mend a broken heart.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Learning that you've been used by someone you truly love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saying "I Love You" when you mean it and when you don't.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Letting go of a person you've just learned to love.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Realizing that you love somebody you've just taken for granted&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Realizing that you love the person you've just broken up with&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Waiting for promises you know (s)he'llnever keep&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saying your love for someone who loves somebody else.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Reminiscing the good times you shared together&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shielding your heart to love somebody&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Trying to hide what you really feel&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Having a commitment with someone that you know would not last&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Trying to hide the tears that involuntarily fall from your eyes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sharing the one you love with someone else.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Loving a person so much&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Giving up someone you never thought of giving up&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Falling in love for the first time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;PRETENDING you're OK when inside you're dying...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;PRETENDING to be strong...and RECOGNIZING your weakness&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;lying in bed each night, thinking of that special person you can never have&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Loving someone you haven't seen&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Having the right love at the wrong time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Exerting effort to make the relationship last or work&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Not being appreciated when you know you've given your best&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Taking the risk to fall in love again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hiding your relationship from someone else&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Controlling your feelings to avoid hurting a friend&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Choosing between 2 persons whom you really love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seeing that person continue to be oblivious of your love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Turning down someone you love dearly, but only as a friend&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Listening to him talk about the girl he loves (which is not you) and seeing how his eyeslight up as he does so&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seeing the guy/girl you love staring ata guy/girl who happens to be your friend while you're staring at him/her too....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Getting extremely developed over a guy/girl who's a friend and finding out thathe/she likes your best friend&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seeing your best friend and the guy/girl you love together&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thinking of him/her every waking and sleeping moment knowing all the while that he/she never even thinks a single thought of you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Loving him/her more than he/she loves you...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Letting go only to find out later on you shouldn't have let go because everytime you see the person, you only fall deeper...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Holding back only to find out when it's too late, you both felt the same way, but were only scared to lose each other so much that you didn't let the feelings out...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When the one you love doesn't even knowyou exist...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When you both know that you love each other but you're scared of losing the friendship you have...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When you let go of the person because your bestfriend you love so dearly is in love with the same person you love...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saying "I Love You" not knowing how the person will respond/reply&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Keeping the feelings to yourself... and when you finally let it out, it's too late&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Letting go even if you really don'twant to...having no right to say you are hurtingbecause it was your decision&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bringing back the friendship you once had after a romantic relationship... pretending that nothing happened between the two of you when something really did...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Having the right love, but on a wrong time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Letting go. Even when you know it really is for the best&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Having to listen to the one you love talk about the one he/she loves.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Having to hear "...I've met someone"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seeing the one you love with another&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Staying friends even though you both know that you both have very strong feelings for one another.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Learning to forgive&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Learning to trust and love again&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Believing and convincing oneself the LOVE is not mere feeling but a state of being...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Having to wonder if what you feel is really love&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Being a fool for the person just to make him/her realize that you love him/her...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When you know you both love each other very much but your family does not approve of him/her.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When he/she leaves you knowing that you'll never get to see each other again... andthere's no chance of getting back together.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Falling in love with someone you didn't mean to fall in love with.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Falling in love with your best friend.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Letting go of someone who was never yours...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Finding the perfect guy/girl...with only one problem... he/she doesn't love you...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Helping the one you love "make ligaw" to your friend.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seeing the one you love crying for someone else...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Going on a wait state for this guy/girl who you don't even have a tiny inkling as to how he/she feels about you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Breaking a friend's trust&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jeopardizing your friendship because of what you feel for your friend.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thinking that he loves you because of what he does for you only to find out that he did it out of pity or whatever...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Giving your heart to someone who doesn't give a damn about you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Not knowing how you really feel...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Having the courage to say I LOVE YOU to the person you love and finding out afterwards that things will never be the same again when he/she doesn't treat you with the same closeness as before...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Loving another person to the extent that you already end up hurting yourself... the other person sees it, he/she doesn't care...he/she fails to realize that something good is already staring him/her right in the face, people tell him/her and he/she just ignores them...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If you love him, and he's just infatuated... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the hardest thing about love - believing it exists.&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After you've been hurt.....learning to forgive...learning to trust and love againBut the hardest thing really is learning to love yourself. We always forget to do this. Always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-16771596790437331?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/16771596790437331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=16771596790437331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/16771596790437331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/16771596790437331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/02/something-for-valentines-day.html' title='something for valentines day'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5265563321852791653</id><published>2007-02-06T21:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:11.781-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the weekend that was</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck48Xl5zlI/AAAAAAAAADc/Y1qciLOu9So/s1600-h/iranyskyline.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028613068712169042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck48Xl5zlI/AAAAAAAAADc/Y1qciLOu9So/s320/iranyskyline.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck4k3l5zkI/AAAAAAAAADU/tTWvVqATHfk/s1600-h/sodarncold!.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028612664985243202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck4k3l5zkI/AAAAAAAAADU/tTWvVqATHfk/s320/sodarncold!.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck4RHl5ziI/AAAAAAAAADE/d6sIBV5m4IA/s1600-h/choymemaludretimessquare.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028612325682826786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck4RHl5ziI/AAAAAAAAADE/d6sIBV5m4IA/s320/choymemaludretimessquare.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck4HXl5zhI/AAAAAAAAAC8/s9Sty68xrTs/s1600-h/choyiratimessquare.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028612158179102226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck4HXl5zhI/AAAAAAAAAC8/s9Sty68xrTs/s320/choyiratimessquare.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck37Xl5zgI/AAAAAAAAAC0/I23ptWXYGhM/s1600-h/brychoymedre.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028611952020672002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck37Xl5zgI/AAAAAAAAAC0/I23ptWXYGhM/s320/brychoymedre.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck3rnl5zeI/AAAAAAAAACk/oNbmgu_X6w0/s1600-h/brychoymemalu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028611681437732322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck3rnl5zeI/AAAAAAAAACk/oNbmgu_X6w0/s320/brychoymemalu.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck3l3l5zdI/AAAAAAAAACc/7NRo53p1uyM/s1600-h/choymemalu2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028611582653484498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck3l3l5zdI/AAAAAAAAACc/7NRo53p1uyM/s320/choymemalu2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5265563321852791653?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5265563321852791653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5265563321852791653' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5265563321852791653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5265563321852791653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/02/weekend-that-was.html' title='the weekend that was'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/Rck48Xl5zlI/AAAAAAAAADc/Y1qciLOu9So/s72-c/iranyskyline.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-3425972254162462065</id><published>2007-02-06T21:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T21:19:14.840-05:00</updated><title type='text'>how do you know...</title><content type='html'>that you're one of my friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NEVER&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;strong&gt;ever&lt;/strong&gt; call me by my first name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unless, we're very, very, very close. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;very.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-3425972254162462065?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/3425972254162462065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=3425972254162462065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3425972254162462065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3425972254162462065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/02/how-do-you-know.html' title='how do you know...'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-3443000598209919072</id><published>2007-02-01T22:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T22:13:20.023-05:00</updated><title type='text'>where are you?</title><content type='html'>i used to be strong, i used to be the controller of my own destiny. i didnt listen to anyone, i didnt care about anything. i only knew one direction and that is forward. i only knew one destination and how to get there. i dont get lost. well, i do sometimes, but then i find my path once more just like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where are you now, used-to-be? why did you disappear and left behind this excuse for a person? why did you leave a weakling, a softie, an underdog, a too-kind person who can't exist without approval from certain people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;come back, you hear me? i want &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-3443000598209919072?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/3443000598209919072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=3443000598209919072' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3443000598209919072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3443000598209919072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/02/where-are-you_01.html' title='where are you?'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-6342118244300588558</id><published>2007-01-28T16:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T20:52:33.938-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>one of the hardest things i have ever had to do is to get over a crush. petty as it may seem, crushes are the hardest to forget. im sure we all still remember our first crush, or the crush we had when we were in highschool, or that one person who still makes you feel giddy whenever you see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's hard to forget because the what if's and the should've beens will never be answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i used to rationalize having crushes. no complications, you feel the high without any committments, the high never fades, no worries about getting pregnant, or cheating or buying them gifts. it used to be fun for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but now, i hate having crushes. they have this power over me that no one can understand. they make me feel happy, they can make me feel sad, they can ruin my day or they can make my day. they can even deprive me of my precious sleep, or motivate me to go to the gym everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's frustrating is, i know they shouldnt have that much effect on my life, but i still let them do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;argh. to hell with him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-6342118244300588558?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/6342118244300588558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=6342118244300588558' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6342118244300588558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6342118244300588558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/01/one-of-hardest-things-i-have-ever-had.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-7938572749701032900</id><published>2007-01-26T01:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T01:11:42.534-05:00</updated><title type='text'>for the strong and the not so strong</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;All I can hear are the crickets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And the whistle from some lonely freight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've been working so hard to make everything right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;but for now it's ... it'll just have to wait&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cause tonight I want ... I'd like you to rock me to sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'd like you to sing me a song. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm tired of trying to figure things out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And I'm tired of being so strong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've never been too good at asking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm more apt to do it alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And it's strange how a lot of us think something's wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If we can't do it all on our own&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It's funny how times when you're hurting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Make what's so familiar seem strange&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So when you need help, it's hardest to ask&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;And it always takes so long to change&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;yes, we are weak too. we also need someone to rock us to sleep. we also need someone who can be stronger than us, someone we can lean on. we also need someone with whom we can be weak with, someone who will catch us when we fall, someone who can push us when we can not go on anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to the strong bats who think that they are alone, know this... there are a lot of us who people tend to overlook, there are a lot of us who people think we can handle everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we are not alone. we have each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-7938572749701032900?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/7938572749701032900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=7938572749701032900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7938572749701032900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7938572749701032900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/01/for-strong-and-not-so-strong.html' title='for the strong and the not so strong'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-773783611383778317</id><published>2007-01-24T20:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T20:57:14.819-05:00</updated><title type='text'>arrgghh!!!</title><content type='html'>how come you've changed sooo much. you are not the person i know anymore. you are not that person i used to eat hotdogs from 711 with, not the person who loved eating burgers and fries before work and the person who drank calorie-laden drinks to keep us awake all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have come to realize how much we've grown apart now.. how far you are from me, how you don't know ME anymore and how much i do not know about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;are we still friends even?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel so distant.. it's like im just watching you do your thing from afar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know life is different now, i know priorities have changed, i know people change too, but i thought our friendship was stronger than that. i thought it was different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why do you make me feel this way? i can not explain how this hurts me, i can not put it into words.. i just feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i do not want you to stop what you are doing right now, because what you're doing now is making you happy. go ahead, i got your back. but i might be a couple of steps behind you for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but im still here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-773783611383778317?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/773783611383778317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=773783611383778317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/773783611383778317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/773783611383778317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2007/01/arrgghh.html' title='arrgghh!!!'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-3982818958186085485</id><published>2007-01-01T10:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:12.201-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my first thought for the year</title><content type='html'>i want to see myself basking under the sun, cold drink in hand, shades on and listening to my favorite songs, &lt;strong&gt;again&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015082344382756066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RZkm0jhEdOI/AAAAAAAAACE/kdadCa6GwVA/s320/lasheng.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;it's been a while since i felt the sand between my toes. i miss it. i miss living in a tropical country where it's summer all year long, where the humidity didn't bother me as much, where i can walk around in a shirt and a pair of shorts and flipflops pretty much anytime i want to, where i can eat &lt;em&gt;halo-halo &lt;/em&gt;and ice cream to cool off..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015083031577523442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RZkncjhEdPI/AAAAAAAAACM/s9KBy4HvbeI/s320/sand+beneath.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-3982818958186085485?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/3982818958186085485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=3982818958186085485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3982818958186085485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/3982818958186085485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/12/of-all-things-to-think-in-middle-of.html' title='my first thought for the year'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RZkm0jhEdOI/AAAAAAAAACE/kdadCa6GwVA/s72-c/lasheng.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-2208618803096089057</id><published>2006-12-31T17:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-31T18:05:28.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>this is the end</title><content type='html'>the new year. what's so special about it? to me, right now, it does not feel any different than the other days in my life. if it weren't for all the hype, i wouldnt notice the year roll to the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;looking back, i feel like this year was a mellow one. compared to the year before, i didnt party as much, drank as much, ate as much and puked as much. i even stuck to my new year's resolution of going to the gym every morning. i was a pretty good girl, my mom and dad wouldve been proud of me. and i didnt do anything kuya marty won't do *wink*wink*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lorraine and i were looking at old pictures from 2005 and i have to admit, those were good times. we hung out every week till the wee hours of the morning, told stories, listened to them or just watched the moon set and the sun rise above the horizon with a bottle in hand or just passed out on rooftops and couches. i miss those times. lorraine's right, we all grew up somehow and stopped doing those silly things. i stopped coming as often as i used to, one of us became serious with his career and life, and two of us started hanging out just the two of them. plus the fact that our little group grew into a far bigger group than it used to be, hanging out became a party, but it's not as intimate as before. i miss those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't like being a grown up. i have to face life and the realities and the debt and the loneliness and the fact that when we die, we always die alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok wait, that was being a bit morbid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want those days back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just hope that in this coming year, everything that i have now, will just stay the way they are. or be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cheers everybody. goodbye to the old, hello to the new, but i hope i get to say hi to the old again someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY NEW YEAR!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-2208618803096089057?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/2208618803096089057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=2208618803096089057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2208618803096089057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2208618803096089057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/12/this-is-end.html' title='this is the end'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5508949938724630629</id><published>2006-12-24T22:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-25T00:04:48.142-05:00</updated><title type='text'>midnight</title><content type='html'>cge na nga, thanks Marco for making me stay up till midnight to greet this crappy xmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5508949938724630629?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5508949938724630629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5508949938724630629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5508949938724630629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5508949938724630629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/12/midnight.html' title='midnight'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5660985233309313694</id><published>2006-12-24T22:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T22:37:20.584-05:00</updated><title type='text'>crappety crap crap</title><content type='html'>i hope everyone is having a better christmas than i am!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i didnt call you, text you or greet you, i probably fell asleep while waiting for midnight and while watching meteor garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, MERRY CHRISTMAS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5660985233309313694?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5660985233309313694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5660985233309313694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5660985233309313694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5660985233309313694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/12/crappety-crap-crap.html' title='crappety crap crap'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-7174689326058967607</id><published>2006-12-22T19:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T20:09:58.206-05:00</updated><title type='text'>my 100th post</title><content type='html'>yey for this, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;my 100th post&lt;/span&gt;. i never thought i could go this far. believe me, this is a big thing for me. i almost always never continue, finish even, anything i started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is not the end of it tho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm in love with blogging more than ever. it's freedom. it's passion and it always listens without any judgements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, it's even better than most friends i have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so YEY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why does this christmas feel, well, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;different&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's not such a big deal for me anymore. it's like i lost the christmas spirit, like i'm not filipino anymore. i remember when i was young, i would count the days till our christmas party at school. we get to dress up, wear outside clothes, play games, give gifts and stuff then lakwatsa after the party. i loved highschool christmas parties. the newspaper dance, the egg-throwing, all those cheesy party games. i didn't realize how fun they were till now. now that we're all grown up, we don't get to do silly things anymore. we don't get to act like kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a friend asked me when was the last time i actually got rained on, for no reason at all. just plain letting myself get wet, soaking in the raindrops just for the fun of it. i was stumped. the last time i remember doing that was way back when i was in gradeschool. me and sister were running around, flinging tabo-s of water at each other and lying on the ground while it was raining on our faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to be able to do that again, even as an adult. it sucks that i don't have anyone to be silly with here, i left all of them back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see, that's why i miss home, i miss my friends, i miss how silly we can all get and kapag trip, trip talaga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this christmas made me realize how important those people are. how they make every year for me very special, and how they make me feel loved even if im thousands of miles away. i love all of you. and i hope you know that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-7174689326058967607?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/7174689326058967607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=7174689326058967607' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7174689326058967607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7174689326058967607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/12/my-100th-post.html' title='my 100th post'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-5299227163988269369</id><published>2006-12-15T00:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T00:42:39.041-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;i don't. no, really, i don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;stop it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;i seriously don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;i can't. &lt;em&gt;it won't&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-5299227163988269369?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/5299227163988269369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=5299227163988269369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5299227163988269369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/5299227163988269369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/12/i-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-7511952935091819811</id><published>2006-12-12T22:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-12T23:00:22.909-05:00</updated><title type='text'>since it's christmas</title><content type='html'>well, i heard somewhere, that somehow, problems have their way of working out around christmas time and so, fate, to return the favor, i will apologize to those i have hurt and wronged in the past. i think this will be kind of liberating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilit, i dont really know why and how much you don't like me ( i wouldnt say hate, it's such a strong word, but if you feel that way, that's fine by me) but i would like to apologize for anything i have done to make you feel that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruel, i'm so sorry for leaving you just like that. i can't help it, i didn't feel anything anymore and i wouldnt want to keep on pretending. and if it matters, i know now how you felt. im sorry again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dale, i'm sorry for taking you for granted. you will always be my first. and i hope we can talk again someday. you have to tell me how you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my friends, im sorry for not keeping in touch as much as i want to. it's my bad and im hoping to change this habit and im hoping to write as often as i can. i miss all of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-7511952935091819811?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/7511952935091819811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=7511952935091819811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7511952935091819811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/7511952935091819811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/12/since-its-christmas.html' title='since it&apos;s christmas'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-2824462952700509037</id><published>2006-12-10T20:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:12.518-05:00</updated><title type='text'>on my way to becoming a photoblog</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;last year it was just us..&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5007076597014550114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXy1oug5VmI/AAAAAAAAABs/EBy9N5bHU6k/s320/DSC02233.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;then, it grew into this..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5007077069460952690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXy2EOg5VnI/AAAAAAAAAB0/egoGVloLhVw/s320/group-goofy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;our little d.c. family is growing! i love how we all mesh, and how we all just find fun in anything. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;happy holidays everybody!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-2824462952700509037?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/2824462952700509037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=2824462952700509037' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2824462952700509037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2824462952700509037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/12/on-my-way-to-becoming-photoblog.html' title='on my way to becoming a photoblog'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXy1oug5VmI/AAAAAAAAABs/EBy9N5bHU6k/s72-c/DSC02233.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-2036320955484741181</id><published>2006-12-03T21:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:13.418-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what keeps me going on</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXTufPkQlFI/AAAAAAAAABQ/JQ0IyCcDK4w/s1600-h/pros+agaw+kamay+ko.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004887306437432402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXTufPkQlFI/AAAAAAAAABQ/JQ0IyCcDK4w/s320/pros+agaw+kamay+ko.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you, wag ka na tampo. haha. darating din time, manonood tayo ulit ng sine at kakain ulit tayo kung saan saan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004885403766920210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXTswfkQlBI/AAAAAAAAAAw/v5BvBxcMzsE/s320/janjann.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;and most especially, them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXTtCfkQlCI/AAAAAAAAAA4/a8dLcCFG6Sk/s1600-h/bfrends1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004885713004565538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXTtCfkQlCI/AAAAAAAAAA4/a8dLcCFG6Sk/s320/bfrends1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;darating din time na magsasama ulit tayo. hay. no matter what ok? 2010, it's a date!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004886739501749298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXTt-PkQlDI/AAAAAAAAABA/16G_MGzK0dI/s320/107_0771.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm feeling a little homesick.. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-2036320955484741181?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/2036320955484741181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=2036320955484741181' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2036320955484741181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/2036320955484741181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/12/what-keeps-me-going-on.html' title='what keeps me going on'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXTufPkQlFI/AAAAAAAAABQ/JQ0IyCcDK4w/s72-c/pros+agaw+kamay+ko.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-4512596042331595241</id><published>2006-12-03T21:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:03:14.028-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what's keeping me sane</title><content type='html'>this&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004495394966639586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXOKC_kQk-I/AAAAAAAAAAM/QIx3w2z9Xm4/s320/me+and+victor+3.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXOKfPkQlAI/AAAAAAAAAAc/UfIwVkL-FIQ/s1600-h/group.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXOKWPkQk_I/AAAAAAAAAAU/jhiqLD6I6cs/s1600-h/lorraine+and+jesse+2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004495725679121394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXOKWPkQk_I/AAAAAAAAAAU/jhiqLD6I6cs/s320/lorraine+and+jesse+2.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  they&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5004495880297944066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXOKfPkQlAI/AAAAAAAAAAc/UfIwVkL-FIQ/s320/group.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-4512596042331595241?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/4512596042331595241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=4512596042331595241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4512596042331595241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/4512596042331595241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/12/whats-keeping-me-sane.html' title='what&apos;s keeping me sane'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/RXOKC_kQk-I/AAAAAAAAAAM/QIx3w2z9Xm4/s72-c/me+and+victor+3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-1184679839532763831</id><published>2006-11-26T13:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-26T13:56:27.118-05:00</updated><title type='text'>letting all the hurt out</title><content type='html'>it's funny how i don't feel that surge in my heart anymore when i think about you. i guess, i've been feeling it for the longest time that i've gotten used to it, thinking it's still there but in reality, it's already gone. im glad, you know. im glad you made me feel that way. cliche as is may sound, it did make me stronger, a little jaded and a little cynical but stronger, still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remember feeling &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; when the wounds were still fresh... when just a simple look at you sends shivers up my spine, when that last hug you gave me before you left made me want to cry, when you were talking to someone about this girl you like and i forced back tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;momel said that looking back shows you how far you've gone, or how far away you need to go. he is right. now i see that i've gone far enough to look back and not stop moving forward. now, i just look back to reminisce. to remember happy memories. to see how much i've learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i still can't seem to stop thinking (not feeling, just thinking) about all the hurt, how good you were at making me believe that i was the one and how you made me giddy like a schoolgirl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that first kiss, i remember it. you were downstairs having a drinking session with ronan, i get a whiff of something vanilla-y and i knew what you were doing. you came up just before the sun rose above the horizon, you lay down beside me and wake me up. you tell me that you love me, and that you knew it was hard for me because i was with someone else. to tell you the truth, it wasnt hard for me that time, my life was way easier and less complicated before you came into it. you told me that it was ok if i didn't love you back. then you kissed me. long and tender and sweet. the idiot in me kissed you back.  i knew it was wrong the first time i saw you. i knew people would get hurt, including me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't seem to understand why &lt;em&gt;YOU're&lt;/em&gt; jaded when it comes to love. what couldve we done to you to make you think that love doesnt work? shouldnt you be asking yourself? shouldnt you be telling us why love didnt work out for you? why you had to have girls on the side? why you had to love having sex with every other girl that takes off their panties for you? tell me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-1184679839532763831?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/1184679839532763831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=1184679839532763831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1184679839532763831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1184679839532763831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/11/letting-all-hurt-out.html' title='letting all the hurt out'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-1530146501650427693</id><published>2006-11-18T21:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T02:03:30.162-05:00</updated><title type='text'>argh</title><content type='html'>get a freakin' pastime ira, better yet, get a freakin' life!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't look back and just go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ugh, tigas ulo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-1530146501650427693?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/1530146501650427693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=1530146501650427693' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1530146501650427693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1530146501650427693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/11/argh.html' title='argh'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-1958004144490390193</id><published>2006-11-18T21:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T00:46:32.404-05:00</updated><title type='text'>let's see how grown up i am now</title><content type='html'>3 years ago....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How old were you?*&lt;br /&gt;22&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did you go to school?*&lt;br /&gt;graduated na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did you work?*&lt;br /&gt;globalstride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did you live?*&lt;br /&gt;malolos, bulacan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did you hang out?*&lt;br /&gt;mostly sa malolos, or sa bahay pagweekends, or kina cha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was your hair style?*&lt;br /&gt;one length. down to my shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you wear glasses?*&lt;br /&gt;no, but i cleaned his contact lensesfor him. that was, entertaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was your best friend?*&lt;br /&gt;who were my best friends, they knowwho they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was your regular-person crush?*&lt;br /&gt;i guess i didnt have one at that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What car did you drive?*&lt;br /&gt;i had a red 4x4 jeep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was your worst fear?*&lt;br /&gt;him leaving me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had you smoked yet?*&lt;br /&gt;no. sniffed a lot of second handsmoke, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter?*&lt;br /&gt;taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LETS SEE WHAT YOU ARE NOW !!!!! November 2006...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How old are you?*&lt;br /&gt;25&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do you go to school?*&lt;br /&gt;i don't go to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do you work?*&lt;br /&gt;the children in the shoe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do u live?*&lt;br /&gt;potomac, md&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do you hang out?*&lt;br /&gt;in d.c. with my d.c. crew. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you wear glasses?*&lt;br /&gt;no. and i don't clean contacts anymore too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who are your best friends?*&lt;br /&gt;still them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who is your crush?*&lt;br /&gt;none at the moment. i cant seem to find one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What car do you drive now?*&lt;br /&gt;i dont have one. busses are my bestfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hair now?*&lt;br /&gt;layered, past my shoulder length, namay bangs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you still smoke now?*&lt;br /&gt;i still dont smoke. but i still sniff second hand smoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your biggest fear?*&lt;br /&gt;that it will take much longer for me to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has your heart been broken?*&lt;br /&gt;just that last time, almost 3 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter?*&lt;br /&gt;single&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any regrets that you have from 3 years ago?*&lt;br /&gt;i've learned not to regret anything in my past. i love my past. it's colorful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;i've grown up a wee bit. a lot has changed in three years. im thankful, for all those things, the changes, the goodbye's, the hello's, the smiles, the tears, the heartbreak, the recovery, the new me. im lucky and i dont even know it. but, now i do.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;happy thanksgiving day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-1958004144490390193?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/1958004144490390193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=1958004144490390193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1958004144490390193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/1958004144490390193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/11/lets-see-how-grown-up-i-am-now_18.html' title='let&apos;s see how grown up i am now'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-262785989539367730</id><published>2006-11-18T21:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T22:13:04.332-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the you i see</title><content type='html'>the you i see isn't all that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i see you walk down the street like a sloth. you strut your stuff like there's no one watching. it's funny how you look so tired, tired from all that walking. come to think of it, i've never seen you run. maybe you look funny when you run that's why you never showed me. or maybe you were never in any hurry to get anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i remember the time when you talked on the phone with a high-pitched voice. i don't know where that came from. i've always admired how deep your voice sounds when you talk to me. you make me want to listen even if i don't want to. then i told you how different you sounded when you talk to those americans. you then changed the way you talk. it was so much sexier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when you watch tv shows, or a movie or just the game, your eyes sparkle. i remember how hard you tried to keep your eyes from shutting while you were doing your thing with the PS. sometimes, i watch you drift off to sleep and then jerk when you realized you just fell asleep. i stifle a laugh. i pretend to be asleep so you don't feel embarassed. but you're never embarassed in front of me. i think all of your flaws are cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you snore, you know. i like it. rhythmic and steady. your snoring makes me fall asleep when i need to, wakes me up when it's time. you also jerk a lot in your sleep. were you running in your dream? or did you fall? i always ask you that. you always tell me not to worry so much. sometimes, when you sleep before i do, i get scared.. because i feel alone, that you were some place else where i wasnt., and that was one of my fears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"lagi kang walang gana", a friend would tell you every time we ate. i know when you wouldnt eat. i can name a few: when you're asleep, when you're in the middle of your game or when there's someone at the foosball table calling for you to play. you were such a baby. i resorted to spoon feeding your skinny butt just to make it not any skinnier that it already was. i remember feeding you champorado and taho, your favorite breakfast. i remember pulling the meat off the bones just so you wouldnt have to waste precious time doing that so as not to lose anymore foosball time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you protected me. you walked on my left side to keep me from bumping into people walking against us. i thought that was the sweetest thing. im sure you don't notice but whenever you do that, i always have a tiny smile on my face. small enough that nobody could see it. using your hand to shade me from the glare, cooking for me even if you never knew how to, giving the evil eye to people to eyed me.. all of them, remembered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;sadly, the you i see isnt you anymore. i can choose to skew everything negatively, but my heart chose to see all the good things, the you i saw.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-262785989539367730?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/262785989539367730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=262785989539367730' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/262785989539367730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/262785989539367730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/11/you-i-see.html' title='the you i see'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-6277104217620051768</id><published>2006-11-09T06:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T22:22:34.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>just a thought</title><content type='html'>bakit ba ang kulit kulit mo? alam mo naman na isa shang tao na sasaktan ka lang pero balik ka naman ng balik sa kanya. kung hindi ka man bumabalik, eh sha parin yung nasa isip mo. hello! gumising ka nga! bakit ba gustong gusto natin sa may ayaw sa atin? bakit ba gusto natin sa taong alam natin na lolokohin lang tayo. sinasabi ko sa iyo, matakot ka. dahil yang lalake na kasama mo ngayon eh may tatlo pang sideline. pano ko nalaman? unang, una, sideline nya ako dati, pangalawa, kaibigan nya ako so alam ko lahat ng kalokohan niyan since i knew him which was almost a decade ago. pangatlo, umaamin yan noh! madali shang hulihin kaya kung gusto mo ng pointers kung pano sha huhulihin, tanungin mo lang ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kakakwento lang sa akin nyan nung minsan, malaki daw problema nya, kasi di daw nya alam kung pano i-manage ang time nya dahil tatlo tatlo kayo. isipin mo yun? kaibigan ko na yan ha. mahal ko na yun without any questions and he still proves to me that most men are pigs. well more like dogs really, palipat lipat. sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bakit ba gusto natin sa mga bad boys? bakit ayaw natin dun sa good guy na nakilala natin dati, na mabait, sobrang patient at lagi kang tama sa kanya? bakit sha yung taong iniwan mo? bakit gusto mo sa mejo at minsan sobrang bastos? kawawa naman mga good guys. they almost always finish last. dont you just wish na sana yung mabait nalang ang kasama mo? sana yang badboy mo eh good boy nalang?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;talagang ganyan pag nagmamahal eh. matigas ulo mo. bahala ka na nga sa buhay mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, im so excited about the new episodes of The Office. Jim comes back to the Scranton branch and Pam is so happy. me too. i can't wait till next thursday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving is just around the corner. i cant believe how fast this year went by. i feel like i havent done anything significant this year. i feel like i wasted a year of my life. i am glad tho, that the year is coming to an end, because it means it's 2007 and my family will come to visit me sept 2007. just in time for my bday. i know it's a long shot and that it's still half a year away but, im telling you, time goes by so fast here where i live. it's ridiculous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-6277104217620051768?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/6277104217620051768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=6277104217620051768' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6277104217620051768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/6277104217620051768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/11/just-thought.html' title='just a thought'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-116234572033065384</id><published>2006-10-31T20:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T02:57:48.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'>happy holloween!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/1600/DSC02330.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/320/DSC02330.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/1600/DSC02320.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/320/DSC02320.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/1600/DSC02303.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/320/DSC02303.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/1600/DSC02294.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/320/DSC02294.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/1600/DSC02262.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/320/DSC02262.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/1600/DSC02257.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/320/DSC02257.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-116234572033065384?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/116234572033065384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=116234572033065384' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116234572033065384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116234572033065384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/10/happy-holloween.html' title='happy holloween!!'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-116208211410000222</id><published>2006-10-28T19:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T02:57:48.367-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what made my day part 2 and adi's tagetty tag tag</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/1600/DSC02080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/320/DSC02080.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ello... read ur post about dun sa **********... that was fun isn't it?.. seen ur pics.. chubby pero pretty...&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;- &lt;/em&gt;pexer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see this up here ^.. this right here made my day. wait, scratch that, it made my whooole month! it may even last till the end of the year! i was doing my usual browsing in &lt;a href="http://www.pinoyexchange.com"&gt;Pinoyexchange&lt;/a&gt; then a box pops out saying i have a pm. so ok, i click on it and someone sent me this message. &lt;em&gt;kahit mejo may sablay, ok na din&lt;/em&gt;. i was smiling from ear to ear, heck, &lt;em&gt;pati pwet ko tumatawa&lt;/em&gt;. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, my profile had the addy of my old multiply account with pics from two years ago. i have to admit i was chubby. well, not chubby, more like huge in my standards.. that's why i enrolled in a gym. i treadmilled, ellipticalled, stationary biked, rowed and cross trained my ass off for the last 8 months. it kind of paid off. now, im addicted to my morning exercise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that rules off the chubby part. and leaves the pretty part. wheee! someone thinks im purty. that's something i dont hear everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;thanks to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, you who sent me the pm, for you made me look forward, instead of dwell in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What do you regard as the lowest depths of misery?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess being alone and lonely. it's different from being alone and happy, content or anything else that doesnt equate to loneliness. maybe i'll be very depressed if i knew that nobody really cared about me anymore, when i become invisible in the eyes of people that matter to me.it changes, you know.. what you regard as the lowest depths of misery. as we grow old, we find out that the lowest we thought we could get when we were in highschool wasnt really that bad.. it gets worse.. but we almost always get through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Where would you like to live?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i would like to live where i can walk to the beach whenever i want to, where i can hear the waves hit the shore and where the air makes my skin smell like salt water. or wherever there's a roof over my head and cable internet and tv. hehee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are your biggest faults?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loving too much, giving too much, trusting people too much and not being optimistic enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Qualities you admire most in a man?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i admire the way they can not grow up and get away with it. really, how do you do that? i want to be able to act all childish and stupid and insensitive but still get what i want, or dont want or "pwede na" wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Qualities you admire most in a woman?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;resilience. no matter what you throw her way, she will either dodge it, face it, catch it, beat it or whatever, depending on her mood you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is/are your favorite color/s?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am currently loving grey (sorry adi :)) because it's neutral. im not in the mood to make decisions of either to wear white or black. going inbetween is easier. i have recently discoved that the color rust works for me. i feel and look good in it. let's not forget pink, makes my cheeks pop. i have no idea why i'm always pink. an ex calls me patrick starfish, not because im dumb but because my face is always pink. and i loooove blue, all shades. reminds me of the sea.. love the sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite writers?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sadly, i don't have any. i read just about anything. wait, come to think of it, i'll name a few.momel, adi, nel, nancy and the lady that keeps the dessert blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What do you value most in your friends?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;their love, understanding, patience, acceptance and time. because they still take time to ask me how i am, tell me stuff, listen to my rants and raves and make sure im doing just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your most marked characteristic/s?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i laugh at almost anything, i'm a wallflower unless we're close friends then i'll be the life of the party, i'm madaldal despite what other people think but i can't make good kwento or tell a joke. and i touch-touch. i love to touch-touch. really. it makes me feel good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite pursuits of leisure?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blockbuster, trying out new restaurants, food trips back in the philippines, surfing the net, lurking around friendster and pex, sleeping in or staying in bed then watch food network, food network, shopping and organizing other people's things. not mine. i hate organizing my stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are your favorite names?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ira. of course, love your own. i like proceso too. it's unique and it sticks. i currently like clara, kieran, luc and james.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How would you like to die?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, if my family was rich enough to keep me alive for a little bit more, then maybe il ask them to keep me alive for a couple of weeks so i could just tell everyone i love that i love them. that's how i would like to die, guilt-free, content and happy to be able to let out everything in here *fist on chest*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are you pet peeves?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate it when people chew loudly, or slurp their soup like there's no tomorrow. ugh, disgusting. i hate it when people make me wait and when they promise something that they won't be able to keep. this disappoints me more than anything. i also hate it when people make singit when you're in line. we should all be civilized enough to be able to form a line and stick to it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Motto you try to live by?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;keep the faith ira, keep the faith. i try to. but some people just keep stomping on your spirits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite hero/ines of fiction?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hermione, sophie, and spongebob. i admire his love of life. he sees the good in everything. i wish i could be more like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Celebrities you admire most?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nobody. sorry. or wait, maybe ... nah, nobody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Heroes in real life?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mom, my lola, friends (kayong apat), my dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-116208211410000222?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/116208211410000222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=116208211410000222' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116208211410000222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116208211410000222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/10/what-made-my-day-part-2-and-adis.html' title='what made my day part 2 and adi&apos;s tagetty tag tag'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-116148973596770421</id><published>2006-10-21T22:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T02:57:47.995-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the weekend that was</title><content type='html'>for the first time in my life, i partied with a famous person. well, they say he's famous but ive never heard of him nor his band.. but nevertheless, famous is famous. haha. this is just a story of my weekend so let's go back to where it all started, my invite to go to D.C. i was invited by a good friend to spend the weekend with her in D.C. it's nothing new, i've always been a weekend guest in their apartment eversince she first came here. we had dinner at&lt;a href="http://www.zorbascafe.com/New_Site/About_Us/about_us.html"&gt; zorba's&lt;/a&gt; and we had one of the yummiest chicken i've ever had. this is one place im definitely bringing future guests to and im sure they will love it. after dinner, we headed out to cosi's for dessert. we had a few laughs and catching up and then we went to &lt;a href="http://www.thebrickskeller.com/"&gt;brickskeller&lt;/a&gt;. brickskeller is an awesome place. they have over 3000 beer selections from all over the world. their list is so long, you won't be able to decide on what to get. you may also resort to just shutting your eyes and pointing to the list and let your finger do the picking. i usually pick the beers that have a fruit flavor to it since i dont really like beer, too bitter for my taste. my friends go for the ones with the highest alcohol content. 10% the better. another first for me.. i used the men's bathroom. well, i can't help it! i need to pee real bad and the women's bathroom is soo gross. i told lorraine to keep watch while i run into the men's room to pee. she tried to stop me but seeing that the situation won't get any better, she followed my lead. ha! after brickskellar, we went back to jesse's apartment. while walking along P street, jesse saw someone he knew. he said hi to him and introduced us to him. i didnt really know him, i thought he was just another fil-amboy, then he said he was the lead singer of &lt;a href="http://www.thespeaks.com/"&gt;The Speaks&lt;/a&gt;. i was like, the who? and apparently they're pretty famous back in the Philippines (are they?). And no matter how hard victor tried to hide his true feelings, i knew he was starstruck! (haha, kidding victor, peace tayo) so he invites us to "party" with them in this one club i've never been to, although we pass by it everyday. we got in easy while there was a little line outside and inside, was well, a party. *sigh* if only im still in that stage of my life where dancing and drinking mattered then i wouldve appreciated all that. we bobbed our head a little, swayed a little here and a little there, had a couple of drinks then headed out. i felt the crowd was a little too young for me. am i old na? so we just hung out at jesse's apartment, drank hypnotique and coke and went home at 4:30 am. 4:30 am??!! i've never been up for that long for almost 6 months! im so not used to it. but it was fun. had a little bonding time with victor, comfort here, high-fives there, huggies and back pats. it was all good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i also did a little bit of shopping *ira slaps hands* &lt;em&gt;"bad, ira! bad!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i know i shouldnt have but i couldnt help it. i got two RL polo shirts for only $15.00 each! i got a cool sweater from H&amp;M for $15.00 and 4 shirts from Gap and H&amp;amp;M for about 7 dollars each. wasnt that an awesome bargain? i wish i could post pics but im too tamad. maybe some other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was allll gooood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-116148973596770421?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/116148973596770421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=116148973596770421' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116148973596770421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116148973596770421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/10/weekend-that-was.html' title='the weekend that was'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-116087670070005983</id><published>2006-10-14T20:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T02:57:47.808-05:00</updated><title type='text'>pang of loneliness</title><content type='html'>move forward, that's what people say to me all the time. i am, i am moving forward and not looking back if i can help it. it's funny how i learn stuff from watching anime/manga. i swear, in my life, i would have never thought that i would learn life lessons through cartoons. this anime im watching is about taking risks, loneliness and how we all feel the same way sometimes.. and facing the reality that people don't always turn out the way you want them to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we all get lonely, it's part of growing up. some sadness in our life in inevitable and it's a passing thing... no matter how deep in shit we think we are, we can still rise up to the challenge and get over it. i've felt that way sometimes. even when im with someone, my family or friends, i still get that feeling of loneliness, the feeling that i have no one to share my life with. but then i wake up and smell the coffee and i see how im surrounded by people who love me, people who step back to watch me grow, learn my lessons and step in when i need help. i was afraid that people would abandon me. that's all i cared about before. but then i realized that i was afraid for the wrong people to leave me. i learned that if people really loved me, then i wouldnt have to be afraid of them leaving me... for they will always be there, no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, right now, for two years, i dont remember feeling lonely even if im miles away from people who care. i think i'm doing good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-116087670070005983?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/116087670070005983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=116087670070005983' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116087670070005983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116087670070005983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/10/pang-of-loneliness.html' title='pang of loneliness'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-116080312476910503</id><published>2006-10-14T00:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T02:57:47.617-05:00</updated><title type='text'>what makes you smile?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/1600/DSC02065.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/320/DSC02065.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                         &lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;my lola, washington d.c.(10/7/06)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/1600/DSC02100.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;connor calling my name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thoughts of his laugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the smile on nico's and matthew's faces when they see me in the morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;food on my table&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my warm bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cable and all our on-demand movies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blockbuster online and the movies that come in the mail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;postsecret.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my Seagate hard drive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spongebob and Patrick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blog friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugly Betty (Betty la Fea), The Office, Lost, Scrubs, Grey's Anatomy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mariel and Camille&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the thought of my family visiting me next year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gael Garcia Bernal and his next movie, Babel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my 6 pillows on my bed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hot water plus lavender soap = good night's sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kel and him not forgetting me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;night skypes and ym's with Sheldon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chats with Nancy, Cha, Tanya and Lorraine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the thought of me holding a ROUNDTRIP plane ticket going to the Philippines&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;i just thought it was about time that i make a list of things that i have, things that i overlook, things that i should be grateful for, things to look forward to. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-116080312476910503?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/116080312476910503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=116080312476910503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116080312476910503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116080312476910503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/10/what-makes-you-smile.html' title='what makes you smile?'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-116003125820208956</id><published>2006-10-05T01:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T02:57:47.461-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the office</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;The Office&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/M0IMVWxQTEI" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I accidentally watched the Fugitive again on cable this weekend. That's a really good movie. It's like a really, really, really good movie."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet Jim Halpert from The Office. Adorable, sensitive and uber cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;btw,&lt;br /&gt;i so totally agree with you jim. i luuuve you seriously. stalker alert.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-116003125820208956?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/116003125820208956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=116003125820208956' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116003125820208956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/116003125820208956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/10/office.html' title='the office'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-115950139221420203</id><published>2006-09-28T22:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T02:57:47.237-05:00</updated><title type='text'>true (this is what boredom does to you)</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" align="center" border="1"  style="color:black;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#99ddff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;American Cities That Best Fit You::&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#addaff"&gt;80% San Francisco&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#c2d6ff"&gt;65% Honolulu&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#d6d3ff"&gt;65% Los Angeles&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#ebcfff"&gt;55% Washington, DC&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#ffccff"&gt;50% Denver&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="&lt;a"&gt;Which&lt;/a&gt; American Cities Best Fit You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wow, maybe i should consider moving to your place tanya. hehee :) i love san francisco even if i havent been there. from all the years watching charmed and seeing pics from families and friends, i love the way the city is built and the way the city thrives. oh well, il save the raves for when i finally get to see san francisco. L.A. isnt really in my top 5, well maybe the suburbs but not in the city mismo. it's not that impressive and it reminds me so much of manila. new york would be a better choice. i love the fast-paced life there. i might not be able to keep up but il surely love the food trips. Honolulu? who wouldnt want to live there. that would be a dream come true. life's a beach is what i always say. maybe in the future, or in my next lifetime, il be born there so i wouldnt have to pay a thousand dollars just to get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;surprisingly, washington dc is in my top 5. that's where i live! well technically i live in the washington dc area but what the heck, i can still call it dc if i want to. i would really love to live in downtown dc. despite the crime wave going through the district right now, i still love life over there. walking can take you anywhere you want to and you dont really need a car because everything is just right there. tax will kill you tho. and rent. argh. but you gotta love the people, the sights, the food and the diversity. students, yuppies, retirees, families, you'll find everything here. sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im surprised that san diego didnt come up. i love that place too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anybody watched the office? what about grey's anatomy? remember next week, lost comes back with a new episode. whee. i luuurve american tv.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-115950139221420203?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/115950139221420203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=115950139221420203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/115950139221420203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/115950139221420203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/09/true-this-is-what-boredom-does-to-you.html' title='true (this is what boredom does to you)'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-115914471968282365</id><published>2006-09-24T19:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T02:57:47.047-05:00</updated><title type='text'>smelly cat.. the office..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;every special memory is associated with a scent. when you're surrounded by that smell, your heart will always return to that unforgettable memory, there the colors are forever bright.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;- makoto, boys be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;i was watching this show and this character was talking about how scents help us remember stuff. for as far back as i remember, i've always been fascinated by smells and some people have always told me how weird i am for loving smelly stuff. i smell e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. i have got to try everything at least once. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the bad thing about my scent fetish is that it mostly reminds me of my past youknowwhats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;my bf back in highschool had this perfume from avon that i absolutely loved. everytime we go somewhere or whenever we meet, i ask him to wear it. i still smell it whenever i pick up an avon catalog (haha) and it still reminds me of the good (or bad) ol' days.  before coming to where i am right now i had a "going-away" trip with an ex-bf. he wore my favorite perfume on a man. sheesh right? i hated him for that. he ruined it for me. well, up till now, whenever i smell aqua di gio for men, it reminds me of the days when i lost my better judgement. haha. kidding not really. that was fun tho. and the cherry on top of the sundae, irish spring sport reminds me of the days when i bathed with it just to smell like my then-bf. he thought it was cute back then but right now, it sounds a little stalker-ish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im a changed woman. im finding new scents to cherish. like baby's breath. or baby's poo. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;right now, i'm addicted to &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0386676/"&gt;the office&lt;/a&gt;. i found it boring at first, but im beginning to like it, well, im beginning to understand the humor. watch it, it's so much fun. im a sucker for love stories and im so kilig with jim and pam. the others, so funny. dwight i love to hate. michael i feel sorry for. urgh! you should watch it. start from the beginning. it's not like lost that you get lost when you miss an episode you're thrown completely off track. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;well, go ahead. watch it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-115914471968282365?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/115914471968282365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=115914471968282365' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/115914471968282365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/115914471968282365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/09/smelly-cat-office.html' title='smelly cat.. the office..'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-115819635111418806</id><published>2006-09-13T20:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T02:57:46.822-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/1600/12318428462884s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/320/12318428462884s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what made me happy this week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;connor (holding my sweater against his cheek): &lt;strong&gt;ooh, ira, soft.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ira: &lt;strong&gt;smell it! smell it!&lt;/strong&gt; (me being gross)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;connor put it up against his nose and smelled it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ira: &lt;strong&gt;what does it smell like?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;conner: &lt;strong&gt;uhm, IRA!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-115819635111418806?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/115819635111418806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=115819635111418806' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/115819635111418806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/115819635111418806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-made-me-happy-this-week-connor.html' title=''/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-115784873486696886</id><published>2006-09-09T19:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T02:57:46.638-05:00</updated><title type='text'>grateful me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/1600/DSC01866.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/869/2265/320/DSC01866.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks my friends and to mi familia, for always reminding me how loved i am despite and inspite of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks to &lt;strong&gt;cha&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;tanya, nancy, collyn&lt;/strong&gt; and sige na nga pati na ikaw &lt;strong&gt;khym&lt;/strong&gt; (kahit you forgot) for always being there for me plus a bit more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;nancy,&lt;/strong&gt; thanks for the very uhm, &lt;em&gt;unusual &lt;/em&gt;gift that i sooo love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tanya,&lt;/strong&gt; you're making my dream to buy grey's anatomy season two a reality! thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;collyn, adi&lt;/strong&gt; thank you both for wasting space in your blogs for me, i am truly grateful my sister friend and my running mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to my family, &lt;strong&gt;auntie donna, uncle tony, lola, mom, dad, issa, mariel, camille&lt;/strong&gt; thanks for supporting me in all that i do, no matter how&lt;em&gt; gaga&lt;/em&gt; i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to &lt;strong&gt;czarree, malu, lorraine, choyette, bryan, jesse, victor, dennis, gerald &lt;/strong&gt;for my surprise birthday party. i seriously had no idea you were having one for me. you guys are &lt;em&gt;good.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to &lt;strong&gt;alvin and reyes&lt;/strong&gt; for coming to my party&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had so much fun being the center of attention. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to &lt;strong&gt;nel, carlo, sarah, mojhdeh, reg, ate liza, john, james, nora, sandra, boyet, jessa, rixie, marco, lyn, elsie, pros, kaye santos, wosie, charms, momel, bryan, ronan, omeed, the children in the shoe people, sheldon &lt;/strong&gt;and everybody else for sending their love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love you all. and i just want you to know, you made this one of the best bdays ever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-115784873486696886?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/115784873486696886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=115784873486696886' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/115784873486696886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/115784873486696886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/09/grateful-me.html' title='grateful me'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22313421.post-115768421704061925</id><published>2006-09-07T21:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T02:57:46.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>true joy</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;table style="BORDER-RIGHT: black 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: black 1px solid; BORDER-LEFT: black 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: black 1px solid" width="450" background="#FFFFFF" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;janice ira tuazon --&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[noun]:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A person who laughs at anything (even this entry)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="COLOR: #ff0000" href="http://www.quizgalaxy.com/quiz.php?id=83"&gt;'How" will you be defined in the dictionary?'&lt;/a&gt; at &lt;a style="COLOR: #ff0000" href="http://www.quizgalaxy.com"&gt;QuizGalaxy.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks to those who remembered. i made a list and i was so glad that it went past ten. im loved!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*burp* i think i had too much birthday cake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/22313421-115768421704061925?l=janiceira.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/feeds/115768421704061925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22313421&amp;postID=115768421704061925' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/115768421704061925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22313421/posts/default/115768421704061925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://janiceira.blogspot.com/2006/09/true-joy.html' title='true joy'/><author><name>ira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01176324988235530066</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HD7sHYyglKo/SKi1N9g51sI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ziqcBdKTgH4/S220/IMG_04593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
