<?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-8969735</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:06:43.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Endless' Stories</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>59</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-113707396668925946</id><published>2006-01-12T05:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T05:58:24.520-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing much</title><content type='html'>1901&lt;br /&gt;Woke up at around 8 this morning to switch bedrooms. After my nap, I took a bath (again) to get rid of my itches. I finished reading my pocketbook, napped again, watched TV, then checked my mail. I found that my boss had several requirements and I downloaded them. I called the office three times. The first time I told her where to find the files she needed from my computer, and the other two times to discuss how I should revise the presentations I just downloaded. She said she needed them urgently and she agreed to let me wear jogging pants in the office if I’d come in tomorrow. I told Mydee about it and she was disgusted with the arrangement on my behalf. I also told &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt; about it and he said he’s volunteering to put the ointment on me. I said it was okay with me since I had nothing to hide from him anymore, except that I didn’t think he’d be allowed near me. I tried to do the presentation after that but I lack the info to complete it.&lt;br /&gt;Christine is upset today because she’s been accused of using company time and resources for studying. I’m waiting for her to call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2145&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much. Just had dinner and got ready for bed. Read a little Barbara Cartland. Texted Allan. Hoped &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt; would call.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-113707396668925946?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/113707396668925946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=113707396668925946' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113707396668925946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113707396668925946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2006/01/nothing-much.html' title='Nothing much'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-113707384345966807</id><published>2006-01-12T05:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T05:58:04.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lapse</title><content type='html'>834&lt;br /&gt;I totally forgot to tell Sir Nok that I’ll be on leave for the week. I slept in Mama’s room and left my phone in my room so I didn’t hear any calls or texts. I hope they didn’t wait too long for me. I texted to apologize as soon as I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;I was itching so I got up to put on some cream. The problem is I couldn’t reach the Christmas tree at my back so I had to wait for Mama to finish her bath.&lt;br /&gt;I also talked to Beth on the phone and we updated each other. It’s really funny how you connect with people you spent only a few moments with in your entire life. Even more amazing is that you keep the bond even after years and across the miles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009&lt;br /&gt;I had lunch, slept, and slept some more. I feel so lethargic but there’s not much to do. I finally roused myself at 3PM, took another bath, and booted my laptop. I updated my blogs, checked my mail (found that my boss approved my sick leave application) and gave in to my weakness.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I called &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt;. We updated each other and I told him about my Christmas tree rash and he said he was sorry he couldn’t see it anymore. You know what? I felt better after talking to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2126&lt;br /&gt;Got ready for bed after watching a little TV. I had my sister put ointment on me again. We already finished one tube and I had to buy a new one. Sigh. Will probably read myself to sleep in Mama’s room again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-113707384345966807?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/113707384345966807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=113707384345966807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113707384345966807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113707384345966807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2006/01/lapse.html' title='Lapse'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-113688243855982883</id><published>2006-01-10T00:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T00:40:38.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Virus</title><content type='html'>2051&lt;br /&gt;Woke up at 5am and my skin irritation is burning.  I texted Sir Nok at 6 and told him I’ll be on leave.  Mama made a 10am appointment for me at Rite-Aid while she set a 10am appointment for herself at Evangelista.  I texted my sis to allow her maid to accompany Mama for her check-up while I went on alone to Rite-Aid.&lt;br /&gt;Mydee called and I filled her in while I waited for my turn at the clinic.  Turns out I had Christmas virus.  It’s not contagious but is known for rashes resembling a Christmas tree.  I was given ointment and antihistamines and was advised to let the virus run its course of 3 weeks.  I put some on as soon as I got home and drugged myself to sleep with Claritin.  I was told it would have to get worse before it gets better and it would turn black when the virus is finished with me.  But I would have to wait for a month before I could have the black scars treated or bleached.&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up from my nap, I updated my blogs, checked my mails, answered texts and phone calls. Louie called after dinner (after 3 failed attempts) and I filled him in on what’s been happening and he mentioned that his cousin Dennis got married last Saturday (the day I got my heart broken, btw).&lt;br /&gt;I got ready for bed after that (showered with Dove, put on ointment and loose nightclothes) and crawled in after Mama.  My dad is on his way to Samar tonight.  I pray for his safety.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-113688243855982883?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/113688243855982883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=113688243855982883' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113688243855982883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113688243855982883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2006/01/christmas-virus_10.html' title='Christmas Virus'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-113688239542603549</id><published>2006-01-10T00:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T00:39:55.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goddaughters</title><content type='html'>1527&lt;br /&gt;I fell asleep crying last night.  When I woke up, tears continued to flow.  The pain remains like a lump in my chest.  I don’t feel anything else.&lt;br /&gt;I booted up my computer, updated my blogs and checked my mails.  And I was still crying the whole time. &lt;br /&gt;It’s funny that I received inspirational texts from Alvin and Allan, two of the least likely people who’d send me wholesome texts (they usually send green and funny messages), it’s as if they know what I needed.&lt;br /&gt;I went to the 9am mass, marveled that it was Epiphany already, and resolved to go to Greenbelt on Saturday and have my confession (seven months late already).  It’s the best thing that could result from this heartbreak. After mass, we stopped over at Caehl’s where the family is getting ready to take Tita Panch home but it seemed like the car is filled with Caehl’s stuff instead.&lt;br /&gt;We had breakfast at home and then I cried myself to sleep again.  I just woke up, missing another meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2353&lt;br /&gt;My goddaughters came by today. Alex’s Tashi and Nicci came by to visit and they were so cute.  They could’ve been mine, you know.&lt;br /&gt;Then after dinner, Loi, Omar and Lucille came by, ostensibly to have dessert at our place but since Lucille wanted an Oreo cheesecake, we drove over to Starbucks at Caltex where I updated Loi regarding my “allergies” and she told me of her adventures as a housewife.&lt;br /&gt;I brought home éclairs and coffee for Meg and Piya.  We had the snacks while watching Ice Age.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-113688239542603549?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/113688239542603549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=113688239542603549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113688239542603549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113688239542603549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2006/01/goddaughters_10.html' title='Goddaughters'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-113679875375215685</id><published>2006-01-09T01:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T01:25:54.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Break-up</title><content type='html'>1826&lt;br /&gt;Woke up at 4am to get ready for our scheduled audit at 7am.  I wasn’t feeling great since I missed my honey’s text last night and missed the chance to talk to him.  I arrived at the bus station at 6am, barely awake, and Kuya Seb arrived soon after.  During the ride to Manila, he regaled me with stories regarding the previous week’s audit.  We missed the Pasay Road bus stop because the stupid conductor forgot that we were getting off there.  We got off at Ayala and trekked back to Petron where we met Toby.  We drove then to Requesens where we did an inventory and cash count.  They introduced me to the manager and supervisor there, whom Kuya Seb told to keep an eye on me when he left. &lt;br /&gt;I worked for a while on the sales summaries while texting my sister (re an envisioned ATC stroll with Caehl) and friends (re a trip to Divisoria).   But not being able to get him out of my mind, I sent a missed call to my honey and he answered that he was in a taxi going to Makati Med.  I asked him to text me when he reaches the office because I really wanted to talk to him.  He promised he would and I left it at that and resumed what I was doing.  Unfortunately the laptop battery died and the documents I wanted to see were at Luneta so Toby offered to give me a lift to the other station where I could work until it was time to do the second audit at 3PM.  I worked there for a while until my honey texted me that he was at his post already.  I called him then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked me what’s up and I said I just wanted to know how his errands went.  He replied that everything went well and that he was quite productive that day.  He then asked me where I was and I told him I was at Luneta.  He chuckled and asked me who my date was and I jokingly replied that there were a lot of jeepney drivers and gasoline boys around who were interested.  And then he repeated his question, asking what was bothering me and I told him that that was exactly what I wanted to ask him.  That I wanted to have a talk with him since last night, but it had been a happy day for me and I didn’t want to spoil our date.  I said that ever since he got back, he seemed different, pensive, and I could feel that there’s something wrong.  He said that there’s nothing wrong.  I told him that relationship aside, I was Lea, his friend, and I asked if there’s something he’s not telling me or if there’s something I can help him with.  He said that his only problem was me.  I was surprised and asked how I became his problem.  He said that last Christmas, he had the chance to think over some things, including our relationship.  And then he said that our relationship couldn’t last anyway.  I got afraid at this point but merely said that I knew that coming in.  He said that he’d be really busy at work and that his family’s coming back and that he wouldn’t have time for me.  I asked him if he still loved me and he said yes.  I said that if he didn’t love me, I agree that there’s no point in continuing our relationship, but if he still loved me then I really don’t mind.  He said that it would be unfair for me, his wife, and his baby.  I started crying then but I said I understood, and asked if we should start it already.  He said that he didn’t want to just yet and asked my opinion.  I told him that if it were up to me it would never start so he has to be the one to tell me.  And he said yes, we should start now.  I died a little then and there but I said okay and thanked him for everything.  He said that he’ll miss me and I thanked him again.  He told me not to cry and I told him it’s too late because I was weeping already.  He asked me if I would still speak to him after that and I said I’ll try.  I told him that we were friends before we became lovers, and I’m sure that the friendship will remain but he has to give me time because it’s going to be hard for me.  He said that it’ll be hard for him also but I told him that at least he’s not going to be alone while I felt lonely already.  He asked me to promise him that if someone else would take his place in my life, it should be someone unmarried.  He said that if it’s still someone married, it would be the same, it also wouldn’t last and that it might as well be him.  And I said I promised.  He made me repeat it to make sure I knew what I was promising.  He asked me who might date was next week and I told him it was Christine although I reminded him that it shouldn’t matter anymore.  He agreed and he said that he was just asking.  I told him that I’ve been having dinner with Christine more often lately because I already got the feeling that things will end between us.  I even told him about my conversation with Migs that if he would refer a boyfriend for me, I’d rather that he’s not an engineer because they tend to leave me.  I said goodbye and for the last time, I loved him.  He said the same and assured me that it was not contrived, in case I thought it was, that it was true.  He said he loved me that’s why he’s letting me go.&lt;br /&gt;“Thank you for everything.  It was great.  You made me very happy.  And for the last time, I love you, honey.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wept a lot after that conversation despite the columns of figures I was footing and when Glenda came in to discuss the audit with me, I complained of allergies  and pretended to cough to explain away my eyes and nose.  I continued to audit at  Luneta until 2pm, although once in a while I would shed a tear.  Bong took me to Requesens via taxi and I continued my audit there.  Ramil commented that I had a pretty smile and he liked girls with pretty smiles.  He was very gallant (he even paid for my taxi fare to Lawton).  Can men recognize an “available” woman?  I just broke up with my boyfriend a few hours ago and men seemed to be crawling out of the woodworks.  Not that I’m interested. It took me like five years to get over Angel and it didn’t hurt as much as it does now.  I was even weeping silently on the bus ride home.&lt;br /&gt;When I got home I received Christine’s text and I asked if I can call her.  She said okay and I cried my heart out to her for an hour.  Girl friends really are treasures when the going gets tough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2327&lt;br /&gt;My heart aches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-113679875375215685?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/113679875375215685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=113679875375215685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113679875375215685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113679875375215685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2006/01/break-up.html' title='Break-up'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-113667827320412141</id><published>2006-01-07T15:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T15:57:53.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fishy Dinner</title><content type='html'>605&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t sleep well. I was thinking about buying the pillows and toys my honey’s baby needs to get better… and of trying to move on. You know what? I can’t even write the words down. It hurts too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2347&lt;br /&gt;Had my work mapped out for the day and I was methodically going through them when Mig interrupted with a phone call to tell me that the Strama grades are out already. I checked the site and got a 3.5 which keeps me on the DL. I was so happy I called my honey and gave him my news. He congratulated me and I asked if he wanted to celebrate with me. He said he needed to go to Valero in the afternoon and so lunch is out but he’ll check if he’s free for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;I decided to wait for him and we went to Shangrila to eat dinner at Fish. We wandered around for a while and he commented that a lot of people were looking at me, then quipped that they must think I’m lucky because I was with him. I told him I would not be so cruel as to disabuse him of the fantasy.&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was okay. I had porkchops and he had salmon and we shared a jungle something to drink. His wife and baby called while I was paying the bill and I was trying so hard not to hear anything because it might show on my face. I’ve always been contented with the way my life has gone but at that moment I don’t think I’ve ever envied anyone so much as his wife for the right to claim his attention at any given time and for his children she has the right to bear.&lt;br /&gt;I also found out during dinner that Andrew hated me because of what happened between him and his girlfriend. I was kidding with Andrew earlier and my honey was surprised that Andrew talked to me at all. Sheesh, and I don’t even really know the guy.&lt;br /&gt;When we were leaving, we bumped into Monette, Betty and their friends (our officemates) and we were both so surprised we didn’t know what to do. We just carried on like everything’s normal but we weren’t really thinking straight. I told him that I’ll just tell them I treated him out because I owed him for my Strama paper and he agreed with that alibi. I was able to give him a peck on the lips before I boarded the bus but that was it.&lt;br /&gt;I got home at 11 and texted my honey but I never got a reply. Allan said good night though, and Lily called to say that Trish and Henry are getting married on the 29th and that we were invited to the wedding somewhere in Quezon City.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-113667827320412141?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/113667827320412141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=113667827320412141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113667827320412141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113667827320412141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2006/01/fishy-dinner.html' title='Fishy Dinner'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-113667812644739065</id><published>2006-01-07T15:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T15:55:26.456-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aborted Leave</title><content type='html'>851&lt;br /&gt;Valiantly trying to hold my pen despite my blinding headache.  I really feel queasy, Ihad to take a leave.  Remains to be seen if it’s a half day or not.&lt;br /&gt;Allan called earlier and we spent a merry half hour bantering on the phone.  He extolled the virtues of Exodus (not the story but the special effects – probably due to ill-gotten funds from the Senate) while I related my holiday grouchiness.  He called me the Grinch.  Funny I didn’t feel sick while we were chatting but instantly felt dizzy when I hung up.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been trying to call my honey but still no answer.  I hope he’s okay.  I hope we’re okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1813&lt;br /&gt;Len called this morning to remind me that Cora was on leave and that I had to come in.  I was so dizzy during the ride to the office I felt like throwing up.  It didn’t help that when I texted my honey, he told me he’d be in the Valero office until tomorrow.  I was texting Christine the whole day about my heartaches and included my fears that my honey is losing interest in me.  Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;Workwise, I was able to keep everything up to date although I have a lot of new deliverables to Len in the following weeks.  I lost my migraine sometime in the afternoon and I was able to keep some coffee down.  I even won a ham for my Pay on the Go participation, the reason why I opted to join the carpool instead of waiting for my honey.  The car ride was funny though, we talked about the Globe “scandals”. &lt;br /&gt;When I got home, I had the itch to visit Caehl.  Meg and I dropped by in the pretense of buying Coke but I really wanted to cuddle my nephew.  Call it low EQ but it was worthwhile because he was laughing a lot at whatever inanity Tita was saying.&lt;br /&gt;Now I’m waiting for my honey to call.  Gosh, his family will be back this weekend and we didn’t even have one single date!  Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2251&lt;br /&gt;He did call and I hope I’m just imagining his disinterest in the previous entries but I’m disappointed when he didn’t say he loved me even when I prompted him to.  He did say he missed me but I think it was somewhat contrived.  He says he has to buy stuff for his family tonight and that he has to do the laundry tomorrow night (get the hint, Lea, he’s not interested in a date!) and that his family’s arriving on Saturday (thank goodness I’ve got audit on Saturday to keep me busy).&lt;br /&gt;I checked my mail and updated my blogs.  After dinner I continued with my audit while texting Christine and Alvin.  Then I played Sirius Black on Sims again and managed to get him promoted at work and in love with Bella.  Now I’m off to bed.  I hope tomorrow brings better things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-113667812644739065?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/113667812644739065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=113667812644739065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113667812644739065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113667812644739065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2006/01/aborted-leave.html' title='Aborted Leave'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-113646620548276919</id><published>2006-01-05T05:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-05T05:08:04.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lukewarm Lunchdate</title><content type='html'>742&lt;br /&gt;After giving Allan my landline number last night, I went on the Internet to avoid his call. Little did I know that he was going to call early this morning at 6, before he left the office. I wonder if Marlowe would take offense if I told him? If he only knew how “safe” he is.&lt;br /&gt;I was also texting Elson last night. He asked when I’m planning to schedule my OCE so he could include it in his prayers. I told him I’m not sure yet and he just said that I make sure to tell him. I asked if I could still text him while he’s, you know, discerning. And he said I still could. So there.&lt;br /&gt;Uploaded Bettina’s blog and updated some others as soon as I got in the office.. I wonder if Mydee’ll be around today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1128&lt;br /&gt;Rebooting my computer (although I wish I meant I was kicking it). As I said to Cora: It’s hard enough to force yourself to work and IT makes it even harder. Ah well. I’m looking forward to lunch. I called my honey earlier and asked him out (although I wish he was the one who thought of it). I haven’t decided yet where I’ll take him to lunch (although I have him in mind for MY lunch, harhar).&lt;br /&gt;Chalk it to my migraine and backpains. I hate dysmenorrhea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1825&lt;br /&gt;We had lunch at Diorama. Well, he had lunch, I had dessert (I was feeling quite queasy when my period started its heavy phase so I didn’t feel like eating).&lt;br /&gt;Again, the lunchdate wasn’t as I hoped. No cuddles during the ride, no kisses in the stairwell (so much for that particular dream), and the greetings are somewhat lukewarm. He told me about his stay in Cotabato hometown. He says he’s busy now that he got back in the office. I’m trying to understand (that is, trying not to nag).&lt;br /&gt;Christine also called to complain of her migraine. She’s still doing her strama paper revision and feeling stressed, poor girl. She did have a good idea I might get involved in: gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2014&lt;br /&gt;I just checked my mails, updated my blogs, had dinner, did my chores, and got ready for bed. I feel like throwing up. I tried to call Marlowe before turning in, but he’s not at his post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-113646620548276919?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/113646620548276919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=113646620548276919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113646620548276919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113646620548276919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2006/01/lukewarm-lunchdate.html' title='Lukewarm Lunchdate'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-113637427503890785</id><published>2006-01-04T03:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T03:31:15.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams vs Reality</title><content type='html'>501&lt;br /&gt;Dreamt of my honey and stealing kisses in the stairwell.  I wish I’d realized it was just a dream though, so I could have done much more.  Harhar.  Good morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2023&lt;br /&gt;At home now, contemplating whether I’d continue with my audit or check my mail first.  But since Allan might call…&lt;br /&gt;Mydee wasn’t able to come to work today since she hasn’t found a nanny for Ulrich yet.  I didn’t have breakfast then since I don’t want to be lonely eater.  I was trying to find out whether my honey arrived or not so we could have lunch together.  He called before lunch but he didn’t seem eager to get together so I opted to eat alone at my desk (so much for not wanting to be a lonely eater :P ah well).  I called him twice after lunch (sorry, but I really missed the guy) and both times there didn’t seem to be any “spark” in the conversation so I ended them pretty quickly.&lt;br /&gt;I thought we’d go home together but he had to wait for an officemate so I went on alone.  We were texting though, but he wasn’t as sweet as I thought he might be if he missed me (as much as I missed him) so I was quite indifferent also (or at least in my texts I was).&lt;br /&gt;Erick was kidding me about having my boyfriend back in Manila and that I get “hot” easily.  If he only knew how right on target he was! Haha.&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I must say it wasn’t the homecoming I envisioned.  I didn’t really want to face it but I felt it a long time ago anyway.  I must be ready any time now.  I only wish I had someone so it doesn’t feel as lonely as the last time, five years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2242&lt;br /&gt;Checked my mail, updated my blogs, pencil-pushed for a while, played Sirius Black in Sims, and started a new story.  It feels awkward but it feels like coming home, this starting a new story.  I’m thinking of uploading it as a blog and see what happens.  I don’t have a clear storyline yet though.  I just want to get to know Bettina first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-113637427503890785?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/113637427503890785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=113637427503890785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113637427503890785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113637427503890785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2006/01/dreams-vs-reality.html' title='Dreams vs Reality'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-113629366326456004</id><published>2006-01-03T05:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-03T05:16:59.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to the grind</title><content type='html'>659&lt;br /&gt;Currently booting my computer. I’ll check my mail in a while. No dreams tonight, just disjointed scenes from Narnia. Unlike the other night when I dreamt I was STILL married to Angel. Imagine that, when he and I didn’t tie the knot at all, and my dream was about us having forgotten to annul it. Weird. Does this mean I’m still in love with the guy? My honey NOW is constantly in my thoughts but my subconscious says otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;1913&lt;br /&gt;A busy but relatively quiet day. I’m at home and back in my room now, trying to relax. I spent the day doing my reports while evaluating new arrivals for the day. I didn’t even realize it was lunchtime until Mydee came along. We went to Tower 3 to check out the furniture she was planning to buy for her new home, bought some bottles for Ulrich since she melted the old ones accidentally (she says they’re called Baby Ron in the visayan dialect), and had lunch at Shakeys. I saw Allan there but he seemed to be in serious conversation with his lunchmate so I didn’t greet him or anything. After lunch we did a little video for Ms. Issa’s 50th birthday. Of course, yours truly had to be the one to speak in front and when I saw the clip, I saw how fat I was, never mind that I was wearing black. Aargh! After that, it was back to reports and evaluations (peppered with a little risqué talk with Erick over the phone) until it was five and I had to clear out one of my boys’ workstations for Clydell, Jo’s new teammate, as promised. There’s no car pool today so I had to commute home after everything. I was too keyed up to sleep in the bus though, so I spent the time thinking about my honey. I wonder when he’d get back to Manila.&lt;br /&gt;2235&lt;br /&gt;Checked my mail and updated my blogs after dinner, then did a little audit. Then read one episode of the Dreaming for good measure. Good night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-113629366326456004?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/113629366326456004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=113629366326456004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113629366326456004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113629366326456004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2006/01/back-to-grind.html' title='Back to the grind'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-113620785225876409</id><published>2006-01-02T05:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-02T05:17:32.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>801&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up with a very itchy eye and a sniff.  I don’t know what triggered my allergies but something definitely did, so I had antihistamines and black coffee for breakfast.  IT’s going to be a full day ahead since I’m going to clean the house of the holiday’s remnants and will return the tree to its box.  Sigh.  The holidays are over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1654&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had lunch at 3pm since I had a nap right after clearing up the Christmas tree.  Now I’m getting ready to go to Mass.  I received a few more text greetings from my Globe family and some friends while I was in slumberland.  I’m feeling a bit lethargic.  Must be nearing my time of the month.  Or maybe I’m just plain lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2304&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just finished watching Narnia with Piya, Meg and Papa.  I remember watching the cartoon version when I was little but I don’t remember the story other than the kids using the wardrobe to get into another land.  I’m more of a Tolkien fan than a Lewis anyway.  But I must say I understand why the two writers are friends.  They see the same world… While I’m going back to the dull and dreary one tomorrow.  Happy New Year everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-113620785225876409?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/113620785225876409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=113620785225876409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113620785225876409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/113620785225876409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2006/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-111449270164573352</id><published>2005-04-26T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T21:25:53.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Darnita goes swimming</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2194/205/1600/Ms%20Laguna.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2194/205/320/Ms%20Laguna.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;Last April 16 – 17, the family went to Pansol (where my dad's friend has a private pool) to celebrate Papa and Kuya's birthdays. We were told we could use the resort from 6pm to 7am. The resort has three bedrooms upstairs, while the kitchen and dining area is beside the two pools (one adult and one kiddie with slide). And most wondrous of all, it has a videoke machine. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we arrived, Meg, Cae and I chose our room (the blue one which has its own bathroom, the yellow and green rooms share a bathroom), changed into our swimsuits, and dived into the kiddie pool (the adult pool still needs filling up). I was wearing my blue two-piece and to release some of the stress I’ve been feeling lately, I decided to put on a cape (a towel of the same color as my bikini) and started posing around like a demented superhero. Cae named me “Darnita, the gay Darna”, while Meg pleaded, “Stop it, Tita. You’re scaring me.” Those two kids really love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since the others couldn’t swim yet, we held a videoke challenge while waiting for the bigger pool to fill. Unfortunately while Pinky was hitting a high note in "Broken Vow", the electricity went out and the blackout lasted two hours. At least we were surrounded by fireflies so we had some sort of light. It was my first time to see a real live firefly, by the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the electricity came on at 11pm, everybody pleaded to Pinky NOT to sing the cursed song again. The pool finally filled and we had a grand time swimming and singing till 3am. I was able to sing all the songs I knew in the two books before I gave in to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The overnight outing underlined my grandma's alzheimer's though. She woke up disoriented and started crying, because she couldn’t recognize the people around her. She thought we gave her away to strangers. We had to introduce ourselves so she'd remember who we are. After a while, she remembered my sister-in-law as the one who has yet to have kids. Sigh. Of all the things to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were allowed to stay till 10am since we had to endure the two-hour blackout, so we had more time to sing and swim. Another typical Squid family outing: a lot of bloopers, but a lot of fun. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-111449270164573352?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/111449270164573352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=111449270164573352' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/111449270164573352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/111449270164573352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/04/darnita-goes-swimming.html' title='Darnita goes swimming'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-111440497391187527</id><published>2005-04-25T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T21:27:19.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O.W.L.S.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2194/205/1600/wce%20010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2194/205/320/wce%20010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;I’m not a Troll after all. =) Finally got my WCE results and I passed all seven exams (thanks guys, for the moral and spiritual support) inspite of all the bloopers (it wouldn’t be me if there weren’t).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first exam was marketing. It should be easy enough since the exam was an open book exam. An open book, but not an open notes exam. And of course, I didn’t have any book with me. All I had were notes. I giggled hysterically after reading the instructions and just started guessing away at the answers. I finished the exam in 30 minutes, so I had 2 and a half hours to spare. I was able to say all four mysteries of the Holy Rosary while waiting for the others to finish. I guess that did it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In another exam, I woke up with an infected eye. The darn thing was all read and wouldn’t stop crying. I wasted half a day (when I should’ve been reviewing) looking for an ophthalmologist with my dad, but all were conducting surgeries that morning and wouldn’t be back till after lunch. I had to postpone the check-up till the next day since I really had to go to school. But of course, reviewing wasn’t any good since I couldn’t see a damn thing without my contacts and I had a migraine from squinting and using just one eye to read. And of course, there was a brown-out that day so I had to squint in the dark too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst of the lot was Financial Management. It was a 150 item exam to be finished in 2 and a half hours. Except that it wasn’t exactly 150 items. The True or False section was a modified one and everything was False. The identification was more like an enumeration with three required answers for just one point. The multiple choice exam was like the CPA board exam where you could come up with any of the choices, depending on the formula you use. Then of course there’s the essay. The professor had a tug of war with each of us when it was time to submit the paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, at least the whole thing is over and done with. Now I’ll just have to prepare for the N.E.W.T.S. next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-111440497391187527?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/111440497391187527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=111440497391187527' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/111440497391187527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/111440497391187527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/04/owls.html' title='O.W.L.S.'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110829531015550258</id><published>2005-02-11T03:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T03:48:30.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthdays and stuff - Friday</title><content type='html'>I thoutgh we'd be able to take it easy since Len is on a teambuilding session but Mydee and I are way toxic still.  &lt;br /&gt;Norman treated everyone to tempura lunch at Tokyo Tokyo (but I had to content myself with two donuts from Hot Loops). Ah well.&lt;br /&gt;There's no carpool today so i had to commute home and endure Meg's texts every ten minutes asking where I was.  Her mom is on a gimik so I was tasked to babysit.  i didn't mind though since meg and I get on well.  We were able to watch Mulawin, Harry Potter 2, Stairway to Heaven, and Bubble Gang before she drifted off to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110829531015550258?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110829531015550258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110829531015550258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829531015550258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829531015550258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/02/birthdays-and-stuff-friday.html' title='Birthdays and stuff - Friday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110829501156650388</id><published>2005-02-10T03:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T03:43:31.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthdays and stuff - Thursday</title><content type='html'>It's a rainy/asthma-ey day.&lt;br /&gt;It started out as a slow day with people not seeming to want to work.  The first trip bus was still there when i got to Pacita (and i usually take the second trip bus) and it left at a time when the third trip bus usually leaves.  That's how long it took to fill.&lt;br /&gt;A lot of things needed to be done and we cracked them all but amazingly, they never seemed to dwindle.  Remarked on this to Mydee and she jokingly replied that I must have undone everything I completed so that it never gets finished.  We laughed at the idea, but it surely felt like that. Frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;We took a break after office hours, Mydee, Lanie, Rose, Janice, Grace and me. We had dinner at Shakey's and watched Let The Love Begin and laughed throughout the movie, or at least whenever Bearwin (Positive!) and Tuesday (Girl!) appeared onscreen.  I jsut wish Richard Guttierez wouldn't do any more film so I wouldn't have to subject myself to a tagalog film ever again. =)&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have any money left, after that.  Just enough for a ride home.  But it was fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110829501156650388?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110829501156650388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110829501156650388' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829501156650388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829501156650388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/02/birthdays-and-stuff-thursday.html' title='Birthdays and stuff - Thursday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110829462014176909</id><published>2005-02-09T03:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T03:37:00.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthdays and stuff - Wednesday</title><content type='html'>Happy Chinese New Year! Happy Feast Day (Ash Wednesday)! &lt;br /&gt;I went to the office early to print out some reports for our meeting with ABS CBN.  We started a little late since we got lost looking for the Finance Department (there was even one point when we thought we had to go through the Audience Entrance along with the contestants for that Wowowee Show).  The meeting itself went without a hitch and we were able to go back to the office in time for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;Mydee, Aurie, and I went to Makati Med at lunch time to visit Mimi.  We were all quite relieved when we found her well enough to have visitors.  She was in a coma for days since last week.&lt;br /&gt;And just before I packed up my stuff to go home, I got a little upset by the Policy Exemption done by one of our Account Managers (Johnroe - the reason why I borrowed the Silas book last week).  Something to do with Aboitiz.  I almost cried and it was good thing both Mydee and Len supported me in my decision.&lt;br /&gt;I got home in time for Mass which i attended with Mama and Piya.  Only when we got home, there was a scene involving my grandma and the two kids.  I won't elaborate but lesson learned: be very very VERY patient with someone with Alzheimer's.&lt;br /&gt;We watched Maid in Manhattan, a feel good film, to calm down our nerves before going to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110829462014176909?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110829462014176909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110829462014176909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829462014176909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829462014176909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/02/birthdays-and-stuff-wednesday.html' title='Birthdays and stuff - Wednesday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110829410116179349</id><published>2005-02-08T03:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T03:28:21.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthdays and stuff - Tuesday</title><content type='html'>A very very toxic day and I made matters worse by waking up TWO HOURS late.  I had a panic/asthma attack when I saw the time, which of course slowed me down some more.  I got in the office at half past eight and we didn't have time for breakfast anymore.  not even lunch since we worked straight through the day.  &lt;br /&gt;On a happier note, I managed to get hold of a copy of The Phantom of the Opera.  On a disappointed note, it was the Robert englund gory version.  In any case, we watched it while waiting for the Chinese New Year, all of us wearing red underwear under red sleepwear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110829410116179349?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110829410116179349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110829410116179349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829410116179349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829410116179349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/02/birthdays-and-stuff-tuesday.html' title='Birthdays and stuff - Tuesday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110829383973694372</id><published>2005-02-07T03:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T03:23:59.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthdays and stuff - Monday</title><content type='html'>Somewhat slow, with Mydee on a sick leave, and Len on a whole day meeting.  I managed to finish my PPE though, hopefully I'll merit something high.  Although I really doubt it since I kinda forgot which of my priorities I really should've focused on sometime late last year when things got too hectic.  You know the kind, urgent stuff that's not as important, but took up most of your attention?  yeah, well, that's what happened.  Lesson learned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110829383973694372?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110829383973694372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110829383973694372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829383973694372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829383973694372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/02/birthdays-and-stuff-monday.html' title='Birthdays and stuff - Monday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110829363395068813</id><published>2005-02-06T03:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T03:20:33.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthdays and stuff - Sunday</title><content type='html'>It's my mom's birthday this time, and the Marikina clan came over to celebrate with us. Mama Connie never fails to come over.  I remember when Ate Michelle was still alive, the two of them were the first ones to greet my mother.  Tito Camilo and Tita Beth (sans my cousin Tina) came to bring their yummy bibingka.  I lent my old accounting books to Tina since she'll be starting college in June and it's never too early to get started.&lt;br /&gt;The day was filled with chores and entertaining guests but we had that evening to wind down.  I was even able to chat with Loi and Elaine, talking about Special Ed classes and pregnancy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110829363395068813?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110829363395068813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110829363395068813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829363395068813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829363395068813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/02/birthdays-and-stuff-sunday.html' title='Birthdays and stuff - Sunday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110829337299903927</id><published>2005-02-05T03:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-13T03:16:13.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthdays and stuff - Saturday</title><content type='html'>It's my niece Meg's ninth birthday!  I can't believe how time flew. I seem to remember when she was just a tiny thing in a cradle and now she's juggling two boyfriends.  Ah well...&lt;br /&gt;I went to both Taft and RCBC campuses to get reviewers for my Written Comprehensive Exam this term (and if anyone is reading this, please, please pray for me!).&lt;br /&gt;I dropped by landmark to buy gifts for Meg and Mama.  I got Meg a Bratz outfit for her Cloe doll and bought a white embroidered sleveless blouse for Mom.  Meg loved her gift but the blouse is a size smaller than what Mom wears (Piya is now a proud owner of a new top).  I promised to get her a new one with the correct size and we proceeded to get ready for the night swimming outing Meg dreamed up.  &lt;br /&gt;We went to Hacienda R (our usual swimming place).  Meg, Cae and Kuya Alex jumped right in, while my sisters and I wore down the videoke machine.  I lost my temper after the machine ate up 4 songs worth without playing my request (Adrienne by The Calling) and spent the next hour doing up my nails in valentine red.&lt;br /&gt;We ate dinner (grilled chops and Max's fried chicken) when my brother and his wife arrived.  After clearing up the dishes, Mom jumped in the pool, Dad slept, while I dragged my grandma to where my siblings were revving up the crowd with their videoke winning pieces.  Well, not exactly a crowd, but two or three people came up to watch whenever it's my brother's turn to sing.  We just goofed around, dancing gracelessly and generally being squids.&lt;br /&gt;We packed up sometime midnight and had a few snapshots taken (which i hope i'd have time to post in my webpage).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110829337299903927?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110829337299903927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110829337299903927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829337299903927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110829337299903927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/02/birthdays-and-stuff-saturday.html' title='Birthdays and stuff - Saturday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110769018081839097</id><published>2005-02-04T03:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T03:43:00.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good times, bad times - Friday</title><content type='html'>BAD&lt;br /&gt;I had a really trying day.  Going to the office took me two hours because of a really bad traffic jam.  I barely made it in time and had Mydee calling to make sure I was coming at all.&lt;br /&gt;Then I got my period and stained my beige slacks.  I had to borrow money from Mydee to buy clothes (something I had to do before).&lt;br /&gt;We ate lunch at Shakey's to de-stress and shared a chocolate shake to boost our spirits before doing our weekly grocery.&lt;br /&gt;Then I had to stay late at the office because of a dozen deliverables, which is okay, if I didn't trip and fall in front of my boss (a keyboard cord managed to wound itself around my legs).  Aargh!  I stayed till ten because my dad had to sleep for a while after getting a bit tipsy.  It's a good thing he came when he did because some ghost started going "psst!" and rattling the keyboards when I was left alone in the area.  It was creepy.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110769018081839097?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110769018081839097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110769018081839097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110769018081839097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110769018081839097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/02/good-times-bad-times-friday.html' title='Good times, bad times - Friday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110768983139071832</id><published>2005-02-03T03:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T03:37:11.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good times, bad times - Thursday</title><content type='html'>BAD&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't go to work because of major asthma and dysmenorrhea in one.  I dreamt I couldn't breathe and woke up to find it a reality.  I rested the whole day, studied Operations Management when I could bear to sit upright and let Meg play Sims at my computer.  I really felt guilty because I added to Mydee's workload with my absence.  And the Bugik family in my Sims didn't fare too well either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110768983139071832?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110768983139071832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110768983139071832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768983139071832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768983139071832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/02/good-times-bad-times-thursday.html' title='Good times, bad times - Thursday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110768955478288286</id><published>2005-02-02T03:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T03:32:34.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good times, bad times - Wednesday</title><content type='html'>GOOD, BAD&lt;br /&gt;I was supposed to buy gifts for Meg and Mama's birthdays this weekend but ended up buying Order of the Phoenix.  &lt;br /&gt;My mood for today?  Busy as a bee, sleepy like a koala, and grouchy like a bear. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110768955478288286?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110768955478288286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110768955478288286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768955478288286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768955478288286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/02/good-times-bad-times-wednesday.html' title='Good times, bad times - Wednesday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110768920187568336</id><published>2005-02-01T03:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T03:26:41.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good times, bad times - Tuesday</title><content type='html'>GOOD&lt;br /&gt;An uneventful day, workwise, since I finished all my deliverables last night.  Too good in fact that I inherited some of Mydee's work.  I don't mind it much since the girl needs all the help she could get, workloadwise.  &lt;br /&gt;I spent lunch time snoozing so I was hungry when I met up with Tin for our pre-Valentine date.  We had dinner at Tokyo Tokyo since I was craving for Teriyaki chicken.  Then we had coffee and desserts at Coffe Experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110768920187568336?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110768920187568336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110768920187568336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768920187568336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768920187568336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/02/good-times-bad-times-tuesday.html' title='Good times, bad times - Tuesday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110768845738758933</id><published>2005-01-31T03:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T03:14:17.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good times, bad times - Monday</title><content type='html'>BAD&lt;br /&gt;Woke up when Boying peed on my bed.  i had to content myself curling at one end (the dry one) while he snoozed behind me.  Also went on overtime at the office to complete my monthly reports.  Can't believe that January's over!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110768845738758933?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110768845738758933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110768845738758933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768845738758933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768845738758933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/good-times-bad-times-monday.html' title='Good times, bad times - Monday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110768821389375341</id><published>2005-01-30T03:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T03:10:13.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good times, bad times - Sunday</title><content type='html'>GOOD&lt;br /&gt;I went to morning mass by my lonesome and dropped by my sister's house and we had a lovely chat over breakfast.  I've always loved my Pam's  sunny side up and coffee.  Even when we were teeners, she's always the one preparing our breakfast/merienda while I do the clean-ups.  Except for major meals though - then it's Pinky's cooking and Pam and I do the clean-ups (although Pam makes a mean cook these days).&lt;br /&gt;It was a typical Sunday, doing chores, sleeping, playing sims with my nieces. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110768821389375341?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110768821389375341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110768821389375341' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768821389375341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768821389375341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/good-times-bad-times-sunday.html' title='Good times, bad times - Sunday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110768773071909705</id><published>2005-01-29T02:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-06T03:02:10.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good times, bad times - Saturday</title><content type='html'>GOOD&lt;br /&gt;Borrowed several books from the library: a compilation of Gabriela Garcia Marquez's short stories (all in the mold of fantasy like the stuff she wrote in Like Water For Chocolate), Bates' Uncle Silas (which I only borrowed because it was borrowed by one of the Globe AMs when he was in college and I was curious about his literary tastes), and a sequel to a book I previously borrowed (the Bastard King - about William the Conqueror) which was about the grandchildren of William the Conqueror. Mom liked it since it was a historical romance, showing the machinations of the first royal families.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I only spent half day in the library and got home in time for a lengthy phone chat with mama bee.  Kuya, Ba, and Katz also came over for a visit. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110768773071909705?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110768773071909705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110768773071909705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768773071909705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110768773071909705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/good-times-bad-times-saturday.html' title='Good times, bad times - Saturday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110696170159596209</id><published>2005-01-28T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T05:33:25.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Friday</title><content type='html'>Had lunch at the French Baker (hickory ribs, yum!) and wandered around Crossing, buying stickers I couldn't afford.  I had this idea of filling my Starbucks diary with stickers appropriate for what I did on a certain day.  Mydee tells me it's an expensive idea. I agree with her. &lt;br /&gt;It's recollection night at Bank of Commerce, so I left the office promptly at 5pm (something which I normally do anyway). Father Julio Penacoba was the officiating priest, so we had a lot of laughs during meditation again.  The topics were cheerfulness, humility, and Christ's humanity.  It was a very good recollection for me because it helped me remember some things I've forgotten for the past months.  I bought books for my staff, taking advantage of the opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;Agie and I had dinner at Pancake House after that and I spent another night gabbing.  We were supposed to look at furniture for her new apartement but we finished dinner at half past nine so we planned to save shopping for another time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110696170159596209?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110696170159596209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110696170159596209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696170159596209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696170159596209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/meet-and-greet-and-mood-swings-friday.html' title='Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Friday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110696148192149797</id><published>2005-01-27T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T05:39:13.400-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Thursday</title><content type='html'>Was supposed to have my chat with Maggie today but she had to finish something at the office.  Since I was already on the bus to Makati, I visited my friends are CBRE and delivered their Christmas gifts.  I got several office giveaways in return - as well as comments on how big I got since I resigned from there.  We caught up on the latest chica while I waited for Mau so we could go home together.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, Mau and I spent the whole time gabbing - from the underpass to the village corner where we had to separate.  She said that she couldn't drink cold water or her jaw will get "pasma".  I said that my cheeks have turned to muscle from laughing and smiling too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110696148192149797?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110696148192149797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110696148192149797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696148192149797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696148192149797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/meet-and-greet-and-mood-swings_27.html' title='Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Thursday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110696129203635111</id><published>2005-01-26T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T05:42:42.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Wednesday</title><content type='html'>Had a very heavy breakfast of bacon and corned beef and spent the lunch hour doing Mydee's grocery (since we're both too full after that major pig-out). &lt;br /&gt;Had a very toxic day - evaluation-wise - that my staff Grace even commented that I "take it easy".  She said that too much breakfast made my fingers dance on the keyboards.  &lt;br /&gt;Good thing it was generally quiet on the home front. Except that I got sad because I didn't get to watch my dvd of Home on the Range though.  Stupid thing won't work on my player.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110696129203635111?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110696129203635111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110696129203635111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696129203635111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696129203635111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/meet-and-greet-and-mood-swings_26.html' title='Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Wednesday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110696111064070195</id><published>2005-01-25T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T06:00:49.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Tuesday</title><content type='html'>Met new people today: the Airfreight 2100 people and the Guban family.  The courier people came by to iron out details of the upsetting offsetting I mentioned last week.  While Irene gave birth to my new office "nephew", Lanns Nathan yesterday, so Mydee, Puch and I visited her at Capitol Med.  We didn't get to see Lanns though (but she sent me an mms anyway - he looks a lot like her).  And I told her I was sooo glad she didn't get her contractions while in the office or she might have rushed me to the emergency room due to asthma attacks instead of me taking her to the hospital to deliver the baby.&lt;br /&gt;We had dinner at Dimsum and Dumplings near the hospital entrance before sharing a cab to go back to the office where I got on a bus and the two retrieved their car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110696111064070195?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110696111064070195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110696111064070195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696111064070195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696111064070195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/meet-and-greet-and-mood-swings-tuesday.html' title='Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Tuesday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110696072957395704</id><published>2005-01-24T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T06:09:22.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Monday</title><content type='html'>Alternated between toxic and bored. Mydee and I went shopping at lunchtime, after vowing to save our money.&lt;br /&gt;Spent the evening and the rest of the night chasing away cats as one of our pets got raped. Imagine that.&lt;br /&gt;Watched the Polar Express with Cae and agreed with her initial review (after she watched the premiere). It was boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110696072957395704?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110696072957395704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110696072957395704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696072957395704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696072957395704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/meet-and-greet-and-mood-swings-monday.html' title='Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Monday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110696051369510437</id><published>2005-01-23T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T06:18:31.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Sunday</title><content type='html'>Didn't do much, just my chores around the house.  Finally finished my Prodman book though, and played Sims.  Just the usual Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110696051369510437?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110696051369510437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110696051369510437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696051369510437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696051369510437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/meet-and-greet-and-mood-swings-sunday.html' title='Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Sunday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110696020424576673</id><published>2005-01-22T16:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T06:19:42.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Saturday</title><content type='html'>Met Pat while furiously typing last week's blog.  He filled me in on what the world's geeks have been up to.  Turns out that they were celebrating World Physics Day.  Wow.  Ultimate coolness...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went home after staying half the day in the library - afraid that if I venture out, I'd get to be a part of the triple lambda.    I got home at 230pm and slept till 830pm.  Had dinner, then spent the evening watching the life of the British royals on cable.  I half worried that Prince William would mention our relationship but am glad that he's not as indiscreet as his parents.  Ah well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110696020424576673?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110696020424576673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110696020424576673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696020424576673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110696020424576673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/meet-and-greet-and-mood-swings.html' title='Meet and Greet and Mood Swings - Saturday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110636483684719039</id><published>2005-01-21T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T19:33:56.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Upsetting Offsetting Week 7 - Friday</title><content type='html'>Another toxic day.  So toxic that I didn't get to study or have breakfast.  Mydee and I compromised and had a heavy brunch instead, followed by coffee and desserts.  That was pretty relaxing... Until we were able to get our new uniforms.  I could barely fit in mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched Wimbledon to get cheered up by cute tennis players... after constructing houses for Meg's sims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow's another Saturday.  Dare I weigh? =) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110636483684719039?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110636483684719039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110636483684719039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636483684719039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636483684719039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/upsetting-offsetting-week-7-friday.html' title='Upsetting Offsetting Week 7 - Friday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110636460193735477</id><published>2005-01-20T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T19:30:01.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Upsetting Offsetting Week 6 - Thursday</title><content type='html'>One very hectic offsetting day.  Everything's so toxic I got really depressed.  I don't really have a problem but some of my officemates do, and sponge that I am, I absorbed all their sorrows and got really morose.  So depressed that I grew a pimple.  Even more depressed my pimple grew so much it left me looking like somebody tried to bash in my chin.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110636460193735477?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110636460193735477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110636460193735477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636460193735477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636460193735477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/upsetting-offsetting-week-6-thursday.html' title='Upsetting Offsetting Week 6 - Thursday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110636440661229292</id><published>2005-01-19T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T19:26:46.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Upsetting Offsetting Week 5 - Wednesday</title><content type='html'>Had one super dinner of pork, tofu, and some weedy stuff.  My dad asked my sister to cook it especially for me to make up for the two dinners I couldn't eat (my family had fish for dinner for the past two nights to aid me in my diet).  I guess my dramatic sighs (while he was trying to eat his dinner) worked on my dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Received another friendster message from a complete stranger.  I got 30 hits since I posted my new pic and four previously unknown persons asked me to add them to my list.  Shows you how many maniacs are out there... And that they like chubby girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110636440661229292?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110636440661229292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110636440661229292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636440661229292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636440661229292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/upsetting-offsetting-week-5-wednesday.html' title='Upsetting Offsetting Week 5 - Wednesday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110636411930111265</id><published>2005-01-18T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T19:21:59.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Upsetting Offsetting Week 4 - Tuesday</title><content type='html'>Worked overtime to ante up my finances since I pledged two hours to Children's Hour.  It was generally a slow day.  The highlight was lunchtime at Wendy's. Carbo... yum... And Mydee's belated birthday treat with Pizza Hut.  Even more carbo... yum...  There goes my half-hearted attempt to diet! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110636411930111265?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110636411930111265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110636411930111265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636411930111265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636411930111265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/upsetting-offsetting-week-4-tuesday.html' title='Upsetting Offsetting Week 4 - Tuesday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110636390247203849</id><published>2005-01-17T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T19:18:22.473-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Upsetting Offsetting Week 3 - Monday</title><content type='html'>Tried to go on a diet but to no avail.  Mydee tried to help by distracting me with shopping at Robinsons Pioneer but buying hooks for my bedroom door could only go so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Became even more sad when Louie dropped by to borrow Preludes and Nocturnes and I had to go home without Dream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110636390247203849?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110636390247203849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110636390247203849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636390247203849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636390247203849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/upsetting-offsetting-week-3-monday.html' title='Upsetting Offsetting Week 3 - Monday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110636353966916599</id><published>2005-01-16T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T19:12:19.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Upsetting Offsetting Week 2 - Sunday</title><content type='html'>Almost killed myself eating.  Two bowls of fried rice and three sticks of suman.  And that's just breakfast.  My mom ordered in ChowKing and my lunch and breakfast was only 30 minutes apart.  I don't know why I even wondered at my ability to gain 13 lbs in a period of 7 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched HOw To LOse A Guy In 10 Days.  Kate is really a pick-me-upper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama Bee's package (for Christmas) arrived and I got my usual ration of shampoo and conditioner.  But I also got tea.  I wonder if she knows...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110636353966916599?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110636353966916599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110636353966916599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636353966916599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636353966916599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/upsetting-offsetting-week-2-sunday.html' title='Upsetting Offsetting Week 2 - Sunday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110636307652356601</id><published>2005-01-15T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T19:15:04.633-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Upsetting Offsetting Week - Saturday</title><content type='html'>I used the weighing scale at the school clinic and found that I weighed 123 lbs. Exactly 13 lbs more than the revious Saturday. I got so depressed I bought myself several DVDs... and a tall raspberry tea frappe (cream based, of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watched Raising Helen and really enjoyed it. I've always liked Kate Hudson, and my sister and I chuckled at the thought that John Corbett was one of the bad guys in Tombstone (her stepdad's film which Piya and I count as one of our fave films of all time).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110636307652356601?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110636307652356601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110636307652356601' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636307652356601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110636307652356601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/upsetting-offsetting-week-saturday.html' title='Upsetting Offsetting Week - Saturday'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110557353341296637</id><published>2005-01-13T07:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T15:45:33.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shoot-out</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;I woke up at three quarters past one in the morning.  Several short blasts in quick succession could be heard in the still of the night.  The dogs were whimpering but were generally quiet.  Who would be lighting firecrackers in the middle of the night? I peered out the window and saw several orange flares and thought they came from the next village.  I wondered if it was their town fiesta and they had just ended a vigil of some sort.  Then I remembered that the only fiesta anyone would be celebrating this week should be in Cebu.  I figured that somebody just discovered a box of leftover firecrackers in his closet and decided to celebrate New Year's Eve again.&lt;br /&gt;When I watched the early morning news on the bus, it turned out that there was a shootout on the South Luzon Expressway and three men were found dead.  Apparently, some people were trying to hijack a truck filled with Nestle products.  Talk about an insane craving for ice cream.  It was pretty scary now that we know what caused the noise.  Anybody could get a stray bullet through the roof while peacefully snoring.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110557353341296637?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110557353341296637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110557353341296637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110557353341296637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110557353341296637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/shoot-out.html' title='Shoot-out'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110540049628702842</id><published>2005-01-11T07:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-10T15:41:36.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gifts</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;I missed the last gathering of the coven (the gang of four plus two) for 2004.  As a result, their gifts were left looking lonely under my tree and now that the tree is packed up for hibernation, the presents are now looking lonely in my closet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I toyed with the idea of opening them and keeping them to myself.  Goodness knows, I like having a lot of them.  But then I remembered how much fun I had picking them out.  I pretended I had Phoebe's powers (after all, I was voted Phoebe by the group, except that they were referring to Phoebe of Friends and not the Phoebe of Charmed, but hey, it's my game anyway) and went around picking up things to see whether it felt like a Techie, a Natsumi, a Trisha, a Henry, or (que horror!) a Scooby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, I'm not sure when the next gathering would be.  But then again, I could always give them out on Valentine's.  I'm sure they wouldn't mind the Christmas wrappers.  After all, they did vote me Phoebe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110540049628702842?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110540049628702842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110540049628702842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110540049628702842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110540049628702842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/gifts.html' title='Gifts'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110491248140039714</id><published>2005-01-05T16:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-05T00:08:01.400-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Year 2004</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;There it goes. Year 2004.  How was it for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January – After the holiday festivities, I had time to reevaluate my life.  What were my priorities? Was I happy?  I realized I wasn’t and decided that it was time to move on.  It was then that I tendered my resignation.  Sponsored a HS friend’s wedding and gained a lot of weight because of it.  Wouldn’t want my tube dress to fall while marching down the aisle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;February – Still no Valentine’s date, but there was a Velentine’s midterm exam so I had little time to mope.  I also started looking at my options.  Sponsored my cousin’s wedding, the first of the TVJ to get married.  How quickly time flies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March – I was pretty preoccupied with my final exams that I hadn’t time to reflect on how I would commemorate this year’s Lenten season, as well as how I would spend my summer. I also said goodbye to CB Richard Ellis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;April –  Hello to summer and Globe Telecom.  I made new friends, met new officemates, and generally learned my way around my new work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May – I went to a team building session and got introduced to more people – and to a situation that I shall label as “a learning experience”.  The whole family also celebrated my 28th birthday at an exclusive resort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June – A new school year, a new term, new classmates, and new sources of inspiration.  The “learning experience” is still ongoing though.  Shows you how stupid I can still be, even after 28 years of living in this world.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July – My teammate is back but our group underwent a slight change that my duties and responsibilities altered correspondingly.  I was also regularized as a Globe employee. I co-chaired a monthly event that was sponsored by my group.  “Learning experience” still ongoing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August – “Learning experience” finally brought to an end due to fear of being found out by his wife. Ah well. Made several new conquests to take my mind off him. Had several new stalkers accordingly.  Ick, when will I learn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;September – Wept my heart out due to my loss of scholarship.  Gained a lot of insights and new friends though, because of it.  Underwent another reevaluation of priorities. I have to admit though, that my load got lighter after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October – My first ever Halloween at Globe.  Unfortunately, our theme was Men in Black where the costume needed is pretty ordinary so I didn’t get to spruce up.  I didn’t get to celebrate it as usual with my nieces since I had some schoolwork to finish. No Tinkerbelle episode this year though, thank goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November – Transferred work stations.  Quite psyched in my new surroundings since I could enjoy a few days of peace before my stalkers could find out where my new place is.  Met up with the Gang of Four twice (once to celebrate Lily’s birthday and once to tour DLSU Canlubang and introduce cityfolks to Tagaytay).  Was sponsor to the christening of the first baby from my college clique.  Felt really old after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December – My first Christmas at Globe and my first Christmas party with such a large company where I saw several celebrity guests. I also hosted my department’s Christmas party but did not enjoy it as I might have given technical difficulties.  Spent the holidays with my family following the usual tradition. A lot of firsts but was glad to continue the olds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;p&gt;Okay, it wasn't as rosy as I hoped but is anything ever?  A lot of new experiences, some of them shouldn't have been, but there it is, human frailty is my only excuse. 2005 beckons.  I'm going to put on my rose-colored glasses again.  Dreamer I'll always be.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110491248140039714?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110491248140039714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110491248140039714' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110491248140039714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110491248140039714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2005/01/year-2004.html' title='Year 2004'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110420724552585930</id><published>2004-12-28T13:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-28T15:33:39.053-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So that was Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;blockquote id="409757d1"&gt;&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;We spent the morning of the 24th getting ready for the big day. Buying the last of the gifts, wrapping, arranging them under the tree (Acuna family, Capiz family, Monterola family, relatives, and waaay at the back of the tree – “mortal strangers”, according to my niece’s arrangement), and generally getting excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mass was at 10pm, but since all the village people were expected to attend, we had to be there at least 30 minutes earlier to get a seat. Of course, I had to finish the Mulawin episode first before I got dressed (I’m a big Aguiluz groupie, so there) so I had to hurry, hurry, hurry and catch up with the ‘rents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We barely made it in time to get good seats and it was a long wait till the celebration started but we were all surprised that for once, it was a no-frills Christmas Mass. We were quite used to a two-hour long Christmas celebration, with everything sung, and every symbolic thing offered. But this time it was just like any Sunday mass, except that there were a lot more people who attended. Some were quite disappointed because they were used to a lot of Christmas drama, but for me, it was quite okay. After all, the Eucharist was still celebrated properly, and that’s what matters, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went home in time to have a midnight snack while Meg distributed the gifts. She and I cleaned up the most. She got all the toys she wanted, while I got all the sleep things I wanted (bedsheets, pyjamas, pillows, etc.). You can be sure we used them immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas morning had us preparing and serving breakfast to my mother’s “charity foundations” but come lunch, it was all over and we could all have an afternoon nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I overheard my dad outside my window:&lt;br /&gt;Dad: Si Tita?&lt;br /&gt;Chorus: Tulog.&lt;br /&gt;Nieces: Hobby nya yun eh&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Di ba, tulog lang yun pag nandito sa bahay?&lt;br /&gt;Sis: Kaya nga puro pantulog ang hiningi eh. Ayun, gamit na gamit.&lt;br /&gt;Nieces: Hobby nya nga yun eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We woke up just in time to prepare dinner since my other siblings are due to arrive. We had a fun time using my mom’s new plate caddy and went around shaking each other’s hands with no problem at all, even with a plateful of food and a glassful of Coke. We took a couple of pictures before my siblings left although we forgot to pose for a Squids pic. Ah well, there’s still New Year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110420724552585930?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110420724552585930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110420724552585930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110420724552585930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110420724552585930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/12/so-that-was-christmas.html' title='So that was Christmas'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110367310089203947</id><published>2004-12-22T07:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-21T15:51:40.893-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Free for the Holidays</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;Saturday was my final exams day for the second term.  Needless to say I was pretty neurotic, but did I study?  Ummm, no? My boss put it simply: "Well?  Are you expecting a miracle?"  Maybe I was.  After all, the Christmas season is prone to miracles, isn't it?  Isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's over and done with.  My case team came up with a final paper on service marketing without even one measly meeting.  It was all division of labor, cut and paste, and the wonders of a yahoogroup.  Wahoo!  The financial management exam was the same as the two other mock exams.  It feels funny answering it.  And it feels bad after you get your score.  Ha-ha. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But do I care?  Ever since I lost my scholarship, it seems that I don't.  My officemate once asked me: "Is that you?"  I merely said that I've reconsidered my priorities in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine is going to spend his holidays with his sister in Singapore and he called me yesterday to ask about the roaming services of our company.  After asking my friends in the office how to subscribe to it, he then tells me that his sister works for my company too and already told him how.  Pointless, that call was, and it took like an hour.  Good thing I find him cute, otherwise I wouldn't waste my breath talking to him.  &lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110367310089203947?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110367310089203947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110367310089203947' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110367310089203947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110367310089203947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/12/free-for-holidays.html' title='Free for the Holidays'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110349869034289928</id><published>2004-12-20T07:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-19T15:26:15.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lily's blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;blockquote id="557bbe87"&gt;&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;I just loved this particular blog of Lily about our Tagaytay trip:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up the hills we go, tra-la-la&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And as requested, our travel log for Tagaytay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up the hills we go, tra-la-la&lt;br /&gt;Travel log&lt;br /&gt;Date: Sunday, November 28, 2004&lt;br /&gt;Time: 0600-0800&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I groan as I reach for the cellphone buzzing like a nest of hornets beside my bed. It is very tempting to press the snooze button and go back to blissful, uninterrupted slumber...until the next 10 or so minutes, that is. But I cannot, as my sister kicks me and tells me breakfast is ready downstairs.Grumbling, and cursing Astro for even thinking of such a plan on such a temptingly sleepy Sunday, I rub my smarting eyes and head downstairs. Three hours of sleep can make a person feel grumpy (I was reading a romance novel last night and couldn’t put it down, hence the hangover). I send Trisha an SMS in-between yawns and remind her and Henry to meet Alex and me at the Landmark at 8 pm. She sends a reply “could I move that back a little, we had a late night?” Sure, I grumble. Who hasn’t? Curse Astro beneath my breath.After a wake-me-up bath and quick dress, then confirming with Alex over the phone, off I go. Timecheck, 8 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time: 0830-1000&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wave as I see Trisha and Henry sitting in an empty parking lot. Turns out Henry was there since 7:30 am. Poor boy. Trisha and I are just 15 minutes apart and I clock in at 8:30. While waiting for Alex, we talk about their game last night that ended at around 2 am, and they also tell me about the soundtrack of a new play out in Broadway or West End. One song goes, “The internet is for porn, porn, porn...” or something that sounds like it. Wow, the wonders of the new technological age – and nothing really changes.We finally figure out something while we’re waiting there – there are no buses! Except for the one heading for Sta. Rosa.“Well, we could just go to Enchanted Kingdom and leave those two lovebirds alone,” I say smartly. The Queen and Astro had already met up and were waiting for us in Laguna. Ah, wishful thinking. Those two were gonna kill each other if we left them alone for even just 5 minutes. Sighing, I send a message to tell Astro the bad news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No bus, where to go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go to Taft or EDSA, replies Astro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sheesh, no way we’re going to Taft. EDSA it is. As soon as Alex gets here.Alex arrives, and he’s JUST come from EDSA. Ah well. I drag my beloved back to EDSA, Henry and Trisha just behind us. And I have to play navigator – me?!? I still get lost in Glorietta and they’re asking me for directions?!?After a few twists and turns, manage to get to the Ayala MRT station. No bus yet in sight, so the guys grab a bite to eat. I look at the huge television set at the bus station and am reminded forcefully that I will be missing another Shaman King episode. (Curse Astro under my breath.)Finally, the bus makes and appearance and we’re on our way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time: 1000-1200&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Queen sends an outraged SMS after an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You mean I have to stay with this guy for a few more hours?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eep. We need to prevent a double suicide here. I send back, Patience and fortitude, my queen. And hopefully that will hold them for another hour.We couple off and grab seats near the back, and then the four of us settle in and catch a few winks. Music blares from the speakers. Ah, blissful Sunday music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My, my Delilah&lt;br /&gt;Why, why, why Delilah?&lt;br /&gt;So before they come to break down the door&lt;br /&gt;Forgive me, Delilah, I just couldn’t take anymore...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On cue, the Queen sends another SMS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t text Astro, his phone’s dead. Useless, both of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, I do love that girl’s sense of humor.We arrive at Pacita Complex, and so head over to the main road. Still acting the part of navigator, I stop and ask for directions. Henry ruminates on why men don’t ask for directions as we head for the jeep. I’m sure I don’t know why.We are aghast at the distance we have to cover, then just sigh and settle down. I only pray we’ll find Astro and the Queen in one piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time: 1230-1400&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we finally got there, the Queen literally ran over and demanded, “what took you so long?” She and Astro had to entertain each other for three hours. (But that is another story to tell, and Astro has promised to write his own version of it. Meanwhile...)We hop on the hired FX and make towards DLSU Canlubang for a side-trip. All the while I’m soothing the Queen’s ruffled feathers as the gang talks about Jollibee meeting places in every stopover.DLSU Canlubang, finally. Trisha gushes about how the light strikes the edifice and renders it as such a magnificent structure towering over a field of green. Hmm, poetry about a building. This I got to see. And it did look grand and impressive. Astro did his tour-guide bit as we walked around the whole building, talking about stray horses, kindergarten kids, Starbucks, and what-not. The place is a little isolated as there are no other buildings nearby, but I guess that’s gonna change soon enough.Thirty minutes and six grumbling stomachs later we’re finally on the road to Tagaytay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time: 1400-1600&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stop to get lunch at The Mushroom Burger. (The Queen finds a set of turkeys in the yard and stops to reacquaint herself with her kindred spirits before squinting at the menu which she cannot read with her current contact lenses. Alex takes pity on her and just orders her something – with mushrooms, of course).Stomachs full, we all head over to the grassy lot beside Taal Vista Hotel where Trisha can finally get to her horses. We pose for pictures, the Queen carefully staying away from the edge. (Poor thing. Trauma at Astro’s rooftop observatory). As Trisha’s horse plods along the route, we climb a small hill to check out the view (the Queen staying put, of course). Alex obviously enjoyed the view and the breeze and waxed poetical. I just sat down and recharged.Trisha finally giving up on the horse, we decide to head to the final stop for a shot of caffeine. By this time, the Queen is already itching and has put on her jacket. (Wonder where it’s gonna rain – the itch is in her right arm – Laguna, perhaps?)At this nice little quaint coffeeshop, everybody orders refillable coffee while I settle for my usual hot chocolate. Then we play a game that pretty much dealt with guessing what a particular definition pertained to. Henry kept getting all the words related to kids, not surprisingly. (One would think he was a closet “pedo” and not a preschool teacher, hahaha – as the Queen belatedly found out). A few losses later, we down our drinks and make our way back to the FX that would take us back to Pacita Complex. Poor Alex had to struggle to make his way back into the good graces of the Triple Lambda school of geeks (Astro being the founding member) as the guys talked about Star Wars Episode Three, He-Man and the Masters of the Universe etc. I wisely kept my mouth shut and left them to wrangle with each other.We all finally split up in Pacita Complex. Tired yet satisfied, I got home around 8 pm.Since it proved to be such a wonderful day, I graciously took back all the curses I rained on Astro’s unsuspecting person (I might even forgive him for making me miss a Shaman King episode in time...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EPILOGUE&lt;br /&gt;Date: Monday, November 29, 2004&lt;br /&gt;Time: 0800&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this blog wouldn’t be the blog it was if the Queen didn’t have a final say on things.The next morning I woke up to a steady downpour outside my window. Apparently, a storm was on the way. And while I was enjoying the snuggle in my warm bed (I love rain!), the Queen sends me a message on my phone, and I grin.The Queen’s itches are never wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110349869034289928?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110349869034289928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110349869034289928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110349869034289928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110349869034289928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/12/lilys-blog.html' title='Lily&apos;s blog'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110194339620934386</id><published>2004-12-02T07:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-01T15:23:16.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Itchy Weather</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It started last Sunday.  I was with my geek friends doing Tagaytay when the clouds came rolling in and rashes starterd to appear on my face and neck.  It didn't rain then, not even a drizzle, so they were bugging me that my weathervane allergies went haywire.  I also thought that I'm just getting paranoid that every itch would mean rain.  I mean, it could be a mosquito for all I know.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Turned out that Monday brought a storm.  A never-ending-rain storm.  And I was, like, "I told you so!" to my friends.  Tuesday had fair enough a weather, but despite the sun, I wasn't feeling all that well.  I felt like an asthma attack was on the way and my back itched like crazy.  I looked balefully at the sun and texted my friends: &lt;em&gt;Do not trust the weather. Tricksy tricksy sun.&lt;/em&gt;   True enough, it started raining hard late in the afternoon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And here I thought I was well rid of my allergies.  At least I don't have the spots anymore whenever a raindrop falls on me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr hb_tag="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110194339620934386?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110194339620934386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110194339620934386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110194339620934386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110194339620934386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/12/itchy-weather.html' title='Itchy Weather'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110082154995737645</id><published>2004-11-19T07:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-18T15:45:49.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogger Block</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Before this blog joins the others I previously put up, I decided to rise from my lethargy (and writer's block) and post anything.  Anything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh well, this was quite a toxic week.  Starting from Sunday when our family trooped to Bulacan to celebrate our grandma's birthday and annual clan reunion.  It was the usual hullabaloo: videoke challenges, lots of food, bull sessions, and stuff.  My dad had a grand time recording everything in his phone camera.  I recorded several too:  my family having a go at the videoke machine, a family of chickens, and two newly hatched chicks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Monday I spent putting up the Christmas Tree and hooking up the lights.  I tasked my two nieces to hang the decorations.  It was the first year I allowed them to do so.  Usually I'm very possessive with my tree.  But now I'm contented with just the tree, lights, tinsel, and star.  Maybe, just maybe, I'll grow up enough to let go of the others too.  I took a video and several pictures of it too.  It was pretty much flattering when several people remarked how evenly distributed the lights were.  Well, after ten years of practice, I think I got the hang of it to make my tree look like something out of a department store window.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've also started training two college students at work on Wednesday.  The pretty young girls were eager to learn and smart enough.  What I couldn't abide were the old wolves sniffing around our nest.  Now I understand how a mother hen feels.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have several more heartaches - workrelated ones, that is - but I'm leaving it for later blogs.  I think there's going to be a continuation today.  I can feel it.  It may be the weekend, but the week hasn't ended yet for me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110082154995737645?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110082154995737645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110082154995737645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110082154995737645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110082154995737645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/11/blogger-block.html' title='Blogger Block'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110052805084335766</id><published>2004-11-15T22:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T06:14:10.843-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Six Degrees from Sta. Ana to San Pedro</title><content type='html'>The Gang of Four celebrated Natsumi’s birthday last Saturday by having a dinner party at her place.  Given her post in the blog a few days prior to the event, we just had to be there if we valued our hides.&lt;br /&gt;The day started normally enough, with my friend picking me up so we’d go to school together.  My service marketing class was informative but uneventful – but then I slept through most of it, so I wouldn’t really know.   When I woke up, I had deep grooves on my forehead due to the crystal bead bracelet I was wearing.  &lt;br /&gt;I had another class that afternoon in Makati but it got canceled since the professor was allegedly sick – but my classmates’ theory was that she found out that somebody else was wearing pink that day (me) and couldn’t take the competition so she opted to cancel the class.  Anyway, it was good news all around – my group being tasked to present a case that day and we didn’t know what to make of the whole thing – and I was able to go back to Taft and meet up with Scooby (he prefers to be called Mic but I like Scooby better and anyway, this is my blog entry).&lt;br /&gt;He and I decided to get a pizza since we weren’t really sure if Natsumi would like a birthday cake or if she did, what her favorite flavor was.  We were justifying our actions with logic – the type that killed the dragons – and I think we got hit by bad karma for our efforts.  Scooby had to wait eons for his blasted tiramisu and I had the misfortune of glimpsing a signboard on top of bracelet link puzzles on sale (Pazel).&lt;br /&gt;We boarded a jeep and Scooby talked nonstop from Taft to the point where we got off the vehicle (“Are we there yet?”) and promptly lost us as he surreptitiously looked at jeepney signs, hoping for a clue.  I offered to call the police twice but he wouldn’t hear of it and hustled me into a jeep where he instructed me to ask the driver nicely to let us off at Natsumi’s street.  When we got off, I had to call Natsumi to report that Scooby abducted me and we were lost somewhere and she and Techie had to rescue us.  Which they did, to my relief.&lt;br /&gt;We greeted the birthday girl as we trooped into her domain, where another friend was already waiting, and her sister and friends were preparing dinner.  We proceeded to update each other while we watched the last half of Ten Things I Hate About You and the first half of The Flight of Dragons.  &lt;br /&gt;Dinner was served promptly at seven and we all dug in the glorious salad.  I was unfortunate enough to swallow a scallop and a few crab strings, but getting a taste of Natsumi’s sister’s culinary magic was worth the puffy lips I sported for two days.  I just nonchalantly scratched my back and my tummy while we chomped on the porkchops and veggie stew.  It was topped off by the creamiest blueberry cheesecake and brewed coffee (which caused the life contemplation I did on the bus ride home).&lt;br /&gt;During dinner though, Techie started this six degree thing which kept us on our toes the whole time (well, at least the tag team that got formed naturally).  It was a neverending link which involved even the Philippine cinema but got saved by the birthday girl by linking Donita Rose to David Hasselhoff and the chain mercifully went back to Hollywood stars.  It was halted when Scooby gave a specific task: “Six degrees from James Earl Jones to Kevin Bacon”.  Since nobody could think of a link just then, the game shifted to naming as many movies as we can given a particular actor or actress.  Of course, the tag team didn’t do well, what with me more interested in the actor’s face rather than the plot or title, and my partner more into art films, but we did our best.  The last game was to name all the actors that appeared as a vampire. A perfect ending before we went out into the night to trek our way home. &lt;br /&gt;Techie dropped my partner off at her place, while Scooby and I asked to be let off at Boni where we could catch a bus to Laguna.  I contemplated the meaning of life, while he contemplated on linking James to Kevin.  By the time we reached Muntinlupa, we solved it together by me linking James to Kevin Costner in the Field of Dreams, and him linking the two Kevins in JFK.  He texted the answer to the rest of the Gang who weren’t as joyous with the news as we hoped.  In any case, I was certain that Scooby had a good sleep that night.&lt;br /&gt;We’re planning on invading Scooby’s domain next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110052805084335766?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110052805084335766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110052805084335766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110052805084335766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110052805084335766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/11/six-degrees-from-sta-ana-to-san-pedro.html' title='Six Degrees from Sta. Ana to San Pedro'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110021596820190087</id><published>2004-11-12T07:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-11T15:32:48.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>D.I.D.</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;My boss asked me to buy a banana for her the other morning.  After I paid for it, I proceeded to pick one from the bunch on the tray.  While I was trying to free one, the gentleman beside me took matters from my hands, picked one, and handed it to me.  My officemate was waiting outside the restaurant and was laughing when I approached her.&lt;br /&gt;"Damsel in distress ka talaga," she said.&lt;br /&gt;I shrugged.  "I must have perfected the image.  I didn't ask for help, he volunteered to. And I got what I wanted."&lt;br /&gt;Later that morning, a friend and I were exchanging short emails when the conversation shifted to violence.  I told him that I punched a guy once and he wouldn't believe it since he said I look like a damsel in distress.&lt;br /&gt;What's with the image?  I try to be as independent and as self-sufficient as I could.  But even my dad thinks I'm fragile.  My friend tells me that that was probably the reason why I attract a certain type, what with male protectiveness and machismo.   Well, as long as I get what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr hb_tag="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110021596820190087?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110021596820190087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110021596820190087' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110021596820190087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110021596820190087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/11/did.html' title='D.I.D.'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-110014862699592460</id><published>2004-11-11T13:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-11T15:12:56.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty girls all in a row</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr hb_tag="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;blockquote id="914c535f"&gt;&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;I spent the better half of the afternoon yesterday interviewing graduating college students for the two OJT positions I have open. There were five girls in all since I specifically requested for female students - having been burned by the last male OJT that I had.&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I took them one by one to the small room we had in the corner where I proceeded to interview them. The thing is, before we could get to the room, we had to traverse the length of the credit area and you could be sure that each of the girls were subjected to visual evaluation. After interviewing the lot, I picked out two whose skills seem to match my requirements and with whom I felt an instant rapport. It turned out that the two I chose were the prettier of the bunch and were the ones who also passed my officemates' visual test.&lt;br /&gt;You can be sure I'm somewhat afraid of what would happen next week when these girls reported for work. I was warned that there would be a lot of officemates visiting our area, ostensibly to ask me something but would actually ogle my charges. Yeah, call me a mother hen, but I actually told the girls to ask their boyfriends to come for them if they had to work late, to make sure they're safe. It's really somewhat of a relief that our workstations are directly across my boss's desk to make sure unwanted visitors are kept at bay. Fortunately, my boss has the reputation of being a "terror".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-110014862699592460?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/110014862699592460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=110014862699592460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110014862699592460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/110014862699592460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/11/pretty-girls-all-in-row.html' title='Pretty girls all in a row'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-109997567575547686</id><published>2004-11-09T12:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-08T20:47:55.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to the Grind</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;That's how it felt to go to the office today.  I had my weekly deliverables to submit as well as the backlog from yesterday and the new stuff for today. &lt;br /&gt;I didn't break for lunch because I didn't feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel like anything.  Period.&lt;br /&gt;I watched the last part of Meet Joe Black last night and was able to see my favorite scenes, particularly the one with Bill and the elder daughter.  But of course, I just loved Joe and Bill's last lines before they went over the bridge:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill:  It's hard to let go, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;Joe: Yes, it is, Bill.  Yes, it is.&lt;br /&gt;Bill:  Well, that's life.  What can I say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bill:  Should I be afraid?&lt;br /&gt;Joe: A man like you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-109997567575547686?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/109997567575547686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=109997567575547686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109997567575547686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109997567575547686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/11/back-to-grind.html' title='Back to the Grind'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-109988399730554393</id><published>2004-11-08T11:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-07T19:19:57.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainy Days and Mondays</title><content type='html'>Always bring on asthma, that’s why I’m here at home instead of in the office. It was a pretty major one too since I couldn’t rest but had to climb up on my headboard to find some oxygen to drag into my lungs.  Pretty pathetic but that’s how it was.&lt;br /&gt;When I went to bed last night I was pretty okay since the last film I watched was LOTR: The Fellowship of the Ring which made me really happy, but then again my asthma hits me from 3am onwards. &lt;br /&gt;It was funny how my mom insisted I entertain a client even in my condition. She let the client in my room where I was lying slumped on the bed with my inhaler clutched in my fist and they proceeded to discuss the details of the income statement.  When she asked for my opinion I had to confess that I didn’t understand a thing and she was forced to leave the financial statements with me so I could look at it later – which was what I requested in the first place.  I guess she thought that I could still work properly even when I couldn’t breathe.  Wow, maternal pride could take you anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll try to be more productive today and look at my financial management case so I can concentrate on my deliverables in the office for the rest of the week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-109988399730554393?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/109988399730554393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=109988399730554393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109988399730554393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109988399730554393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/11/rainy-days-and-mondays.html' title='Rainy Days and Mondays'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-109988373995648947</id><published>2004-11-07T22:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-07T19:15:39.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hectic weekend</title><content type='html'>After professing to an officemate that I’m having a peaceful weekend, what with a raging fever and a fatal migraine since Thursday night, I planned on sleeping the sleep of the dead.  Ah well, peaceful, my foot!&lt;br /&gt;Friday evening found me and my officemates lugging stuff from one side of the floor to the other as we transferred workspaces.  We had to stay put until the IT people made sure that we got connected to the local network and the internet server, so my car pool left me behind.  And since I had a queasy tummy and a rock concert going inside my head, I decided to just call my dad and have him pick me up.  Which he did at 9pm.  So we got home at past 10 and I had to stay up late to get ready for my midterms in service marketing and the case interrogation in financial management.  I went to bed at around 2am, but was feeling somewhat smug since I was also able to cut my picture and place it beside Alex Band’s face.  Hence, my new wallpaper.  &lt;br /&gt;My amiga also texted to say that she left her car in Makati so we had to commute going to school.  This is fine by me, so I made a note to leave 30 minutes earlier to make sure I get to school on time.  I was ready to leave when a former classmate caught me on the phone to ask me if I can bring him my copies of financial management cases.  So I had to log in my computer and print out the stuff.  And there went my extra 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;But of course, promising to help a friend in need brought on good karma since I happened to share a bus with the guy I was crushing on.  But good karma could only go so much and the bus we were in had engine trouble a few streets short of our destination.  It was raining and muddy, so he and I shared an umbrella while he held my hand to make sure I didn’t slip.  Ah well, maybe it was part of the good karma. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the classes went well.  I was able to get most of the answers in the service marketing case and was satisfied with it.  There’s really a difference between now and the time I still had a scholarship to protect.  I would have been beating myself for the answers I wasn’t able to think of.  But now I’m just happy. In financial management we also played it by ear and things went well.  But then how many questions could you ask from a group who computed the same results we got? &lt;br /&gt;After class, my friend was already waiting for me so we went on a marathon lecture from 530-700, covering eight weeks worth of lecture.  After that my throat got all sore for talking nonstop, but he insists that it was because I still went on a gimik afterwards and was “nahamugan”.&lt;br /&gt;It wasn’t really a gimik I went to but I did go to meet my two girlfriends to play mother because the youngest of us was really bummed out after seeing her grade in production management.  We spent the rest of the evening trying to cheer her up until her boyfriend came to pick her up for a party.  It was also the last time we’ll get to spend some time together since we had a lot of projects to focus on for the following weeks.  Thank goodness for SMS technology because it’s the only way we could keep in touch during the weeks ahead.&lt;br /&gt;I got home at around 1030, cooked my own dinner since my family had fish (I just whipped up a sausage and veggie omelet), and started on disk 1 of Before Sunrise, the vcd my officemate lent me for the weekend.  &lt;br /&gt;I had to stop after the first disk though since my highschool friends texted me to tell me to go online since they all were.  It was really fun to get to talk to each other after all this time and yet it felt like we were never really apart.  Three of us are still in the country, one is in UK, one in Canada, and two in New York.  My officemate kidded me that it was like a United Nations conference.  They had webcams and they took us on a webcam tour of their houses and we pointed out spots where we could stay when we managed to scrap up enough money to fly and visit them.  It’s pretty amazing and wonderful to see how successful my friends became. My prepaid card conked out though and I was sad not to be able to join the conversation anymore (as meaningless as it was).  I’ve learned the painful way that these are my true friends and that they are real people.  I learned that four years ago and you bet I ain’t going to forget it ever.&lt;br /&gt;I went back to Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy after that and thoroughly enjoyed the uneventful film.  I was telling my mom that it was funny how the movie was just about two people conversing about ordinary stuff and yet was pretty entertaining.  I can’t wait to watch the sequel Before Sunset.&lt;br /&gt;I went to bed at around 2am and woke up at 10am, remembering that I was to be godmother at an 11am christening and that I wasn’t able to buy a gift.  It was a good thing that the church was just in the next village and that my mom had a stash of those red Chinese good luck envelopes so I just asked for one and slipped some money inside so I didn’t need to get a gift.  &lt;br /&gt;It was fun to get together with my college clique too. We had a few problems four years ago but I was glad that we got over it because it’s wonderful now how we share in the new things life brought to each of us.  I guess I could finally call all of us matured.&lt;br /&gt;I got home at around 3pm and that’s when I was able to sleep like a log.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-109988373995648947?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/109988373995648947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=109988373995648947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109988373995648947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109988373995648947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/11/hectic-weekend.html' title='Hectic weekend'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-109952667194118391</id><published>2004-11-04T08:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-03T16:04:31.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lethargic</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;&lt;p&gt;I seem to remember writing an essay with the same title.  I guess, as a friend would say, that's the story of my life. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I went home early yesterday, intending to study the case assigned for this saturday, which my group is supposed to interrogate.  But when I got home, I decided to savor feeling bored for a while yet - something I've dreamt of all day, what with all the stuff I needed to do at work and not much time to do it.  Thing is, a friend called up and we ended up chatting till 1130.  And now I'm sleepy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My fault, my fault, I know.  And I can't even say it was worth it.  Sigh.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-109952667194118391?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/109952667194118391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=109952667194118391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109952667194118391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109952667194118391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/11/lethargic.html' title='Lethargic'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-109944024979834587</id><published>2004-11-03T08:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T16:04:09.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breathless</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;Yep, that's what I felt when I woke up this morning.  An impending asthma attack.  When I looked out the window, I decided it was inevitable, it looked like rain.  Well, it's better than the blood and rash I used to suffer when the skies poured, but still I can't help but wonder if I'm really of this world (because who else do you know who is allergic to rain?) or whether some deity is trying to kill me (because I'm prettier).&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm back here at work, and finally finished what I &lt;em&gt;had&lt;/em&gt; finished last night. Talk about waste, but then there's really nothing else to do.  Might as well do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-109944024979834587?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/109944024979834587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=109944024979834587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109944024979834587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109944024979834587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/11/breathless.html' title='Breathless'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-109941027182143208</id><published>2004-11-02T23:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-02T07:44:31.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Endless Night</title><content type='html'>Not really, but it feels like it.  I spent most of the night working overtime at the office, just so I could make a dent on the humungous project the department was supposed to complete by end of November.  And horror of horrors, just when i was about to send a draft to my boss, I lost the file.  Even my friend, who's a computer whiz, couldn't cheer me up.  He gave me several suggestions on how to make the process easier, but it didn't change the fact that I still have to do it over again.&lt;br /&gt;Imagine losing 30 minutes worth of one's work.  Shows me the value of time, and I'm not talking about financial management.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-109941027182143208?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/109941027182143208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=109941027182143208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109941027182143208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109941027182143208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/11/endless-night.html' title='Endless Night'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8969735.post-109935418980145729</id><published>2004-11-02T08:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-01T16:09:49.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Started (Again)</title><content type='html'>&lt;table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr height="100%" unselectable="on" width="100%"&gt;&lt;td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"&gt;My previous professor told me last week that I should either start a blog or write to Youngblood.  Since a friend of mine pointed out that I might not pass the age limit for YB, I decided to just start a blog.  I actually have five other blogs but four of them I just use to update my personal webpage (I upload my manuscripts there and link them to my page) and the other one I share with three other people (to update ourselves of whatever shenanigans I'm into lately).  This is the first time I actually thought of using the blog as, well, a blog.&lt;br /&gt;Last month, I even decided to get a new Nokia handset just so I could make use of Globe's g-blog service.  But of course, techie-bimbo that I am, I still haven't figured it out so I actually use the Notes function of my cellphone as a diary, except that you can only text so much in a phone.  Before, I tried using the traditional diary (you know, the notebook and pen kind) so I can be more verbose, but my nieces figured out where I stashed it and actually use it as a bedtime storybook.  So much for privacy.  Since I actually &lt;em&gt;know&lt;/em&gt; how to use a blog, I hope that this one will survive...   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"&gt;&lt;td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"&gt;&lt;div id="hotbar_promo"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8969735-109935418980145729?l=endlessstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/feeds/109935418980145729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8969735&amp;postID=109935418980145729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109935418980145729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8969735/posts/default/109935418980145729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://endlessstories.blogspot.com/2004/11/getting-started-again.html' title='Getting Started (Again)'/><author><name>Queen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05214456047995539135</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
