tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69054085903816365762024-03-13T09:24:15.363+08:00Blah Click Blahit'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-61019286947724745262012-03-05T22:23:00.002+08:002012-03-05T22:31:58.754+08:00Love StoriesAs is obvious in a portion of my posts, I am a person who likes to write. I can't quite define myself as someone who's good at it though :))<br />
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Lately, I've been feeling a little inspired and whatnot so one night, while bored, I came up with a couple of story plots, and though I am undeniably lazy, I did get to write one part of my plot down.<br />
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So here, online, is hopefully a chapter to a number of chapters leading to a story that will express :)<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq"><div style="text-align: justify;"><i style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">We live a life that is wrought by imperfections, expectations and most of all disappointments. We have seen love at work, and then we see revenge at work. We see two people who are different try to make sense out of why they’re together, and then we see how these two people don’t even give a damn about what makes them different because they know that they are perfect for each other.</i></div><i></i><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><i><i style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">They say that these are what truly make our lives complete. They say that all the drama we experience will magically be worth it for that special someone. They say that we spend our lives searching for the meaning of happiness in another person’s arms. They say that we’ll never be able to compare it to anything else. This is what it means to love and be loved in return.</i></i></div></blockquote><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“This is such a load of…crap.” Darren said laughing at the essay he was reading. “How is it that you can keep writing about all this?”</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“HEY.” His best friend Lot responded, indignant at the offense he was throwing at her work. They were sitting in their usual café taking in life from their own perspectives. Lot was a writer who was trying to get her work published in a local bookstore while studying fine arts. She was the typical girl who involved herself in dramas and love. Then there was Darren, the male best friend that other people called her guy girlfriend. He was also the number one critic of her work.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“But it is! Good Lord, where the hell do you come up with this?” He asked her after his laughing had subsided a bit. She snatched back her papers and stuck her tongue out at him like a child.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“If you must know, I got it from experience!” She said huffing and putting her work in her folder. Darren only raised my eyebrow at her.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Oh really now?” He asked obviously not buying what she was saying.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Of course. If you must know, I’m quite experienced in the world of love. I live in it.” She retorted, emphasizing the word live.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“No my dear, you don’t live in a world of love, that’d be an illusion.” He told her still laughing a little. “Should I bring you back to your special place now Lot? I promised the doctor I’d have you back before dark.” He asked solemnly taking her hand in his. He’d said the last statement loud enough that some of the costumers looked at her sympathetically. She looked at him shocked and swatted his hand away. He laughed just a little more before making a grab at Lot’s folder.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“If you’re just going to laugh at it again, I’d appreciate it if you did it somewhere I wouldn’t see you.” She scolded him, sounding hurt by his laughter.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">Darren sighed out loud. “Women. They were never going to get your humor unless you spell it out to them.” He stated matter-of-factly. Lot glared at him from her seat.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Oh come on Lot, I’m just being honest here. You can’t be mad at me. This is how I’ve always been. You know you can’t help me.” Darren gave her a pout and waited for her to look at him while he put up his hands as if he were begging to make a show.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">She kept a blank look until her lips give in and curved a little at him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“That’s my girl.” He said smiling and opened her folder to scan the essay again.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“I really don’t understand why you like writing all these Lot. You're practically lying.” He said with an arrogant smirk on his lips.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">Lot could only roll her eyes and snatched the papers from him again. This was such a routine for them that they could already see what would happen next.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“I told you, they’re not lies because they’re true. You’re a biased critic.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“I haven’t seen it so they can’t be facts, and no I would never make biased statements to spare your feelings, you know me better than that.” He said taking his drink and leaning back on the comfy seat.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Yeah, spare me my feeling from being completely crushed since all you tell me is that I write like a girl when I AM a girl. And because you’re a masochist, an ass and just simply put a cynic.” Lot replied with a smile that seemed more sarcastic then genuine.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">Darren narrowed his eyes at her and then shrugged his shoulders.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Meh. You’re right. But I am all that and more. If you know what I mean.” He wiggled his brows and smiled back at her equally sarcastic.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">Lot let out a loud sigh and shook her head.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“My friend, when are you ever going to learn that love exists?” She wondered despairingly.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Oh I’m sure it exists somewhere, for your sake. I’m just not sure it exists for happiness or those sappy happy endings.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“This is getting tiring you know, trying to convince you that it <i>is</i> real.” Lot took up her drink and slunk down in her seat.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“And it’s getting a little tiring to always hear about these stories you write so much about considering you’ve only had two relationships in your whole existence. But I love teasing you about it anyway. It’s part of my special rights as your best friend.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“At least I’ve had serious relationships Dare. I can’t say the same for you though.” Lot said haughtily and sipped her macchiato.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“I have had relationships Lot. Way before you met me.” Darren said making a face at her. Lot nearly choked on her drink as she tried to keep herself from laughing too hard.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Yeah. If that’s what you can even call them.” Lot said giving him a disbelieving look. “You’ve had a lot of relationships, oh sure. About 20 or something, but none of them were serious. Remember that saying, the one that says if you have more than 20 relationships in your life, you won’t get married?” She taunted.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">Darren chuckled and flung his straw at Lot.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“How is that even done? Have more than 50 relationships and still not believe in love?” She asked looking deep in thought.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“How nice of you to make me sound so attractive by raising my digits Lot," Darren winked at her slightly before continuing. "But that’s precisely why I have so many relationships Lot my dear. To prove that there is no love at all.” Lot rolled her eyes at him. “Women want too much. Men like it simple but women are too demanding all the time.” He argued.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“That’s stupid. Men just want that one thing.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Lot, you naughty, naughty girl, ” Darren said feigning shock at his best friend. “Who taught you the three lettered word?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Three lettered word? What are you--? Oh. HEY. No, EW! That’s not what I meant! Sheesh!” Lot turned scarlet at the scandalized statement he was making.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“What? I didn’t say anything. You assume too much my dear, it’s not good for you.” Darren chuckled as he stuck his tongue out at Lot and ignored the rest of the people.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Oh shut up and stop playing innocent. Men only want one thing and that’s an easy life.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Wow.” Darren’s face went serious and hurt. “Is that how you think of me Lot? That I want it easy..?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">Lot stared at him blankly before chucking her straw at his face and gave a laugh when it hit him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Hey! You ruined my moment.” Darren said taking the napkin to wipe his face and grinned at her.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Don’t try lying to me you jerk. I’ve known you for years. I know how dark your soul is.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“It’s not as dark as you think Lot, probably a murky brown is all.” He said smiling.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Oh honestly. I don’t know what to do with you. How is it possible that we’re best friends?” She giggled as she spoke.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“I’ve been asking myself the same question for years.” He said sighing gravely and putting on a sad face. Lot stopped giggling and gave him an annoyed look.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“But,” Lot began for him. Darren closed his eyes and pretended to pray before speaking.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“But it’s been the best decision of my life Lot, ole buddy ole pal of mine.” He amended giving his best smile.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“That’s right. It has been the best decision of your life. Though I can’t quite say the same goes for me.” Lot said taking a long sip of her drink.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">“Okay, now that hurt. And that was unfair.” Darren said throwing a napkin at her. Lot only smiled and they went to bicker about their requirements.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">This was the way things were between them. Lot would show her work and Darren would make fun of it. Then they’d banter about why they were friends in the first place, and then they’d move on to talk about how suck-y the weather was, how mean their professors were and sometimes their futures. Just about anything really. They hardly even tried to show only their best qualities around each other anymore.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">This was the life of best friends. They’d met each other almost two years ago in their first year in college and they’d only been known as acquaintances. Then they became classmates in a certain subject and found mutual dislike in it so much, they talked a lot more about other things than pay attention in class.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">Lot liked to write about love stories when she had the time. Darren had found out when one of her works fell from her bag and he picked it up. And every time Lot had something to write, Darren would find it, read it and then make fun of it. And Lot would let him, for a little while before telling him again and again that he’d meet the right girl to make him feel what she wrote about. He’d scoff this off and make fun of her some more.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">He used to tell her that the right girl probably lived in another world. And then she’d tell him that he’d probably already met her.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">Well, destiny said that Lot was right.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="background-color: white;">Sooooooo.. What do you think? :)</span></div>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-70564303186306573072012-02-12T23:50:00.000+08:002012-02-12T23:50:08.779+08:00Lens Love :)I'm an amateur or simply put, I'm still a NOOB kind of photographer. I take photography as a way to have fun, and as a leisure hobby because I'm just a little girl who isn't sure what she has to show :))<br />
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Why this post then, you may be wondering. Well, even if I am a noob at this, I still love photography and I want to be able to pass it on. *Mainly so that I don't go bored while relaxing*<br />
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And so far, I've never had the chance to take photos of the lens I have and the use they've been to me. Mainly because I love my standard zoom 18-135mm so much *am just really lazy to bring other lens around XD* though I love my other lens as well.<br />
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Without further ado, here they are:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2R5IBrS5g2SfMuTpxcP51v3kPgk0Rj9t2XKG2QyG9kanYbxwoPT9tw97_MwC26biYfpe9E_I-D6r0YrLpy4qHCtgKIzmm8y3K0-2v62CtZHT2GFGnheG5j7WQ2tuPV_h-QUyItXrPRXm-/s1600/IMG_5280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2R5IBrS5g2SfMuTpxcP51v3kPgk0Rj9t2XKG2QyG9kanYbxwoPT9tw97_MwC26biYfpe9E_I-D6r0YrLpy4qHCtgKIzmm8y3K0-2v62CtZHT2GFGnheG5j7WQ2tuPV_h-QUyItXrPRXm-/s640/IMG_5280.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from just the zoom to having 3 additional babies <3</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdMCEMiNW3e-KTrvM26qgujkzlh0Lgp19EBQn7_BGsEGF6we6sxmQqk2TXbmZGdWOZjuEj7brHZq39WLHmvWFLMnQSOMXGtSmBvQHpgH9CkZCynaiLdlTscnVvpZnQqBxw3ROARTrr6LmC/s1600/IMG_5281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdMCEMiNW3e-KTrvM26qgujkzlh0Lgp19EBQn7_BGsEGF6we6sxmQqk2TXbmZGdWOZjuEj7brHZq39WLHmvWFLMnQSOMXGtSmBvQHpgH9CkZCynaiLdlTscnVvpZnQqBxw3ROARTrr6LmC/s640/IMG_5281.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the first non-kit lens I got from my dad. The EF 50 mm</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0U0lsX4LOsdzcn-wNW5C3iIVCjmZsGABXWoeR6mMsvjA92sTqLRqKnlq5lkeWHWD5mvRccX8uhd3aGxlSS83WWDQoZxHy71AAqrN50GqqGaLVVk1Dx9kev-LXo8ptlXWVpZPglAjqh9cc/s1600/IMG_5282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0U0lsX4LOsdzcn-wNW5C3iIVCjmZsGABXWoeR6mMsvjA92sTqLRqKnlq5lkeWHWD5mvRccX8uhd3aGxlSS83WWDQoZxHy71AAqrN50GqqGaLVVk1Dx9kev-LXo8ptlXWVpZPglAjqh9cc/s640/IMG_5282.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my newest, the EF 100mm macro lens; perfect for macro *duh* and portraits :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGVJCtTInFAZFYHz2UjV76_-NaslX4UfcIOvon60VskLB6F44JDBshdqX365cmy1Vkum1W8FEOWRbA7AdRUL5gQe4klngn_2VuqYmP-UBr7BZytpDvyALfGYkyXAv-Kfp2z1XlrxVcQ67J/s1600/IMG_5283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGVJCtTInFAZFYHz2UjV76_-NaslX4UfcIOvon60VskLB6F44JDBshdqX365cmy1Vkum1W8FEOWRbA7AdRUL5gQe4klngn_2VuqYmP-UBr7BZytpDvyALfGYkyXAv-Kfp2z1XlrxVcQ67J/s640/IMG_5283.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">one of the first lens I ever used in life. The EF 90-300 mm non USM zoom lens</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Hopefully, I'll have more chances of using ALL of these this year. I'm excited and happy that my dad is being so supportive, and I can't wait to see what else he'll have in store for me and this ever growing hobby of mine <3it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-14550728902382260932012-02-11T02:35:00.003+08:002012-02-11T02:36:16.841+08:00JUX-taposedI'm up late. And I have exams later *the last day really* but I have yet to study my lessons. Why? Why am I being a careless student?<br />
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For one, my last exams need reading and analysis. Something I'm not going to get out of just looking at my notes or papers.<br />
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And two, because I found a site that enables me to post up my pictures with as big a file as I want. In fact, as big as the screen resolution.<br />
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What is this site?<br />
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It's called Jux.<br />
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<a href="https://blog.jux.com/">https://blog.jux.com/</a> <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitJ8d5mMuu8p5SGHbENm1cG1Gku53G8SKaagNFj25yP3PPy30NOoCxS1ucc8MriTk_cE-_I5ByiSYxD4oPArM1sk2D9NOl2wBXqQT8S2KKS4WH4-FTJlBPZXCxkgVLiUbmcvo0paWO8zot/s1600/jux.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitJ8d5mMuu8p5SGHbENm1cG1Gku53G8SKaagNFj25yP3PPy30NOoCxS1ucc8MriTk_cE-_I5ByiSYxD4oPArM1sk2D9NOl2wBXqQT8S2KKS4WH4-FTJlBPZXCxkgVLiUbmcvo0paWO8zot/s640/jux.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjP25EicMr67SmHX2J6pfa4xBUxGO5_IyepQl7gS2dj4lzE3EZs2FfxG9fgRyn6c7XSHAzHos4GGxdqmXKpwNNfQ393tjpIC9rHolBepm-x_SaNo6-PItbUNlRS7Fv090xVeXXhmV7MUv7/s1600/jux2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjP25EicMr67SmHX2J6pfa4xBUxGO5_IyepQl7gS2dj4lzE3EZs2FfxG9fgRyn6c7XSHAzHos4GGxdqmXKpwNNfQ393tjpIC9rHolBepm-x_SaNo6-PItbUNlRS7Fv090xVeXXhmV7MUv7/s640/jux2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>You can check out my photos here for either better resolution or just a wider screen! It's amazing and I've fallen in love with it! :)<br />
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Of course I'm not going to take down my photoblog here at blogger but I am going to link both of my photoblogs :)<br />
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Here are my link <a href="https://paintswithlight.jux.com/">https://paintswithlight.jux.com/</a> for JUX<br />
and of course, my first photoportfolio <a href="http://paintswithlight-photoportfolio.blogspot.com/">http://paintswithlight-photoportfolio.blogspot.com/</a><br />
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and hey, if it interests you too, go make your own for free! :D<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-22955046114683940072012-02-04T21:22:00.001+08:002012-02-04T21:41:25.249+08:00Mom and Dad So Far<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj02jQqsEnbEYxsJf4OIexl5T8KsQ0X2BaaqAd7BZFIztHVtA5u2LkauR1u3D9usK_Qdof4CbqRe3wRk5xaOld4xKDMwPSUrna8wpdfRAZKI-rtkBgNUjwjsUY4nstqZS33xDoj_S-zlAn8/s1600/IMG_5234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj02jQqsEnbEYxsJf4OIexl5T8KsQ0X2BaaqAd7BZFIztHVtA5u2LkauR1u3D9usK_Qdof4CbqRe3wRk5xaOld4xKDMwPSUrna8wpdfRAZKI-rtkBgNUjwjsUY4nstqZS33xDoj_S-zlAn8/s640/IMG_5234.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my first photo, used an slr camera since DSLRs weren't invented yet :))</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<br />
My dad.<br />
<br />
My mom always told me that he's the sweet kind of guy. At times, when I just look at him, I find it hard to believe. But sometimes, I think I can see why.<br />
<br />
He's the man who started me on my little photography hobby, that he's trying to keep me in by not only providing for the equipment but also giving me time and opportunities to learn more.<br />
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I was 5 when I took my first photo. And it was of my parents. Just a few nights ago, my dad was reminiscing and he said words that made my heart feel proud to be his daughter.<br />
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<i><b>"I want you to be able to take pictures of me and your mama as we grow old together."</b></i><br />
<i><b><br />
</b></i><br />
It almost doesn't matter that he's mostly so serious, because there are times when he's being photographed when he smiles and you can tell he's happy where he is :">it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-33002633246056716262012-01-30T21:34:00.000+08:002012-01-30T21:34:57.630+08:00Wedding Dreams<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Just a few days ago, I attended the wedding of my cousin(?) who's been with the same guy for over 3 years I think. They met at work in Dubai and after a long time of waiting I suppose, finally decided to get hitched.<br />
<br />
The best parts about their wedding wasn't that it was grand with the whole church filled for them, it was that moment when the groom was walking down the aisle, he had tears ready in his eyes. When the bride finally came, he let them loose. No joke, this was the SWEETEST thing I'd ever seen :"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufl0h5fKBdAWL7Iwvnxha6ZNuH-9RDTMkEFPsSSK9Z90Y3nOuYJhXw9w73hWE1R08tkbgs7g3kQ45MW-0Noiqs_eNLZYIstDFxWoBqTkPJ954TrN33dQ4lqUxsNMM97purSv1DklVYWAP/s1600/IMG_4357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufl0h5fKBdAWL7Iwvnxha6ZNuH-9RDTMkEFPsSSK9Z90Y3nOuYJhXw9w73hWE1R08tkbgs7g3kQ45MW-0Noiqs_eNLZYIstDFxWoBqTkPJ954TrN33dQ4lqUxsNMM97purSv1DklVYWAP/s640/IMG_4357.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the bride is on her way<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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With this said, I wonder how my own will be? I can't say I haven't thought about who the groom could be or when it'll happen, all I'm hoping for is for the day when I can be whole too :"><br />
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~all pictures were taken by moi. Leave a comment if you like, tell me anything :Dit'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-76305193846933469412012-01-29T22:24:00.001+08:002012-01-29T22:30:15.414+08:00The Story Of Cupid and PsycheIt'll be February soon *by Wednesday* and one of my favorite things about it is remembering Cupid and Psyche :) I LOVE Greek mythology and this is just ONE of my most loved tales to date :)<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>So here you go, CUPID AND PSYCHE shared. Written by <span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Lucius Apuleius.</span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">link: </span><a href="http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/cupid.html">http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/cupid.html</a></div><div><br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div><div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>A certain king and queen had three daughters. The charms of the two elder were more than common, but the beauty of the youngest was so wonderful that the poverty of language is unable to express its due praise. The fame of her beauty was so great that strangers from neighboring countries came in crowds to enjoy the sight, and looked on her with amazement, paying her that homage which is due only to Venus herself. In fact Venus found her altars deserted, while men turned their devotion to this young virgin. As she passed along, the people sang her praises, and strewed her way with chaplets and flowers.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>This homage to the exaltation of a mortal gave great offense to the real Venus. Shaking her ambrosial locks with indignation, she exclaimed, "Am I then to be eclipsed in my honors by a mortal girl? In vain then did that royal shepherd, whose judgment was approved by Jove himself, give me the palm of beauty over my illustrious rivals, Pallas and Juno. But she shall not so quietly usurp my honors. I will give her cause to repent of so unlawful a beauty."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Thereupon she calls her winged son Cupid, mischievous enough in his own nature, and rouses and provokes him yet more by her complaints. She points out Psyche to him and says, "My dear son, punish that contumacious beauty; give your mother a revenge as sweet as her injuries are great; infuse into the bosom of that haughty girl a passion for some low, mean, unworthy being, so that she may reap a mortification as great as her present exultation and triumph."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Cupid prepared to obey the commands of his mother. There are two fountains in Venus's garden, one of sweet waters, the other of bitter. Cupid filled two amber vases, one from each fountain, and suspending them from the top of his quiver, hastened to the chamber of Psyche, whom he found asleep. He shed a few drops from the bitter fountain over her lips, though the sight of her almost moved him to pity; then touched her side with the point of his arrow. At the touch she awoke, and opened eyes upon Cupid (himself invisible), which so startled him that in his confusion he wounded himself with his own arrow. Heedless of his wound, his whole thought now was to repair the mischief he had done, and he poured the balmy drops of joy over all her silken ringlets.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Psyche, henceforth frowned upon by Venus, derived no benefit from all her charms. True, all eyes were cast eagerly upon her, and every mouth spoke her praises; but neither king, royal youth, nor plebeian presented himself to demand her in marriage. Her two elder sisters of moderate charms had now long been married to two royal princes; but Psyche, in her lonely apartment, deplored her solitude, sick of that beauty which, while it procured abundance of flattery, had failed to awaken love.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Her parents, afraid that they had unwittingly incurred the anger of the gods, consulted the oracle of Apollo, and received this answer, "The virgin is destined for the bride of no mortal lover. Her future husband awaits her on the top of the mountain. He is a monster whom neither gods nor men can resist."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>This dreadful decree of the oracle filled all the people with dismay, and her parents abandoned themselves to grief. But Psyche said, "Why, my dear parents, do you now lament me? You should rather have grieved when the people showered upon me undeserved honors, and with one voice called me a Venus. I now perceive that I am a victim to that name. I submit. Lead me to that rock to which my unhappy fate has destined me."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Accordingly, all things being prepared, the royal maid took her place in the procession, which more resembled a funeral than a nuptial pomp, and with her parents, amid the lamentations of the people, ascended the mountain, on the summit of which they left her alone, and with sorrowful hearts returned home.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>While Psyche stood on the ridge of the mountain, panting with fear and with eyes full of tears, the gentle Zephyr raised her from the earth and bore her with an easy motion into a flowery dale. By degrees her mind became composed, and she laid herself down on the grassy bank to sleep.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>When she awoke refreshed with sleep, she looked round and beheld near a pleasant grove of tall and stately trees. She entered it, and in the midst discovered a fountain, sending forth clear and crystal waters, and fast by, a magnificent palace whose august front impressed the spectator that it was not the work of mortal hands, but the happy retreat of some god. Drawn by admiration and wonder, she approached the building and ventured to enter.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Every object she met filled her with pleasure and amazement. Golden pillars supported the vaulted roof, and the walls were enriched with carvings and paintings representing beasts of the chase and rural scenes, adapted to delight the eye of the beholder. Proceeding onward, she perceived that besides the apartments of state there were others filled with all manner of treasures, and beautiful and precious productions of nature and art.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>While her eyes were thus occupied, a voice addressed her, though she saw no one, uttering these words, "Sovereign lady, all that you see is yours. We whose voices you hear are your servants and shall obey all your commands with our utmost care and diligence. Retire, therefore, to your chamber and repose on your bed of down, and when you see fit, repair to the bath. Supper awaits you in the adjoining alcove when it pleases you to take your seat there."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Psyche gave ear to the admonitions of her vocal attendants, and after repose and the refreshment of the bath, seated herself in the alcove, where a table immediately presented itself, without any visible aid from waiters or servants, and covered with the greatest delicacies of food and the most nectareous wines. Her ears too were feasted with music from invisible performers; of whom one sang, another played on the lute, and all closed in the wonderful harmony of a full chorus.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>She had not yet seen her destined husband. He came only in the hours of darkness and fled before the dawn of morning, but his accents were full of love, and inspired a like passion in her. She often begged him to stay and let her behold him, but he would not consent. On the contrary he charged her to make no attempt to see him, for it was his pleasure, for the best of reasons, to keep concealed.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>"Why should you wish to behold me?" he said. "Have you any doubt of my love? Have you any wish ungratified? If you saw me, perhaps you would fear me, perhaps adore me, but all I ask of you is to love me. I would rather you would love me as an equal than adore me as a god."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>This reasoning somewhat quieted Psyche for a time, and while the novelty lasted she felt quite happy. But at length the thought of her parents, left in ignorance of her fate, and of her sisters, precluded from sharing with her the delights of her situation, preyed on her mind and made her begin to feel her palace as but a splendid prison. When her husband came one night, she told him her distress, and at last drew from him an unwilling consent that her sisters should be brought to see her.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>So, calling Zephyr, she acquainted him with her husband's commands, and he, promptly obedient, soon brought them across the mountain down to their sister's valley. They embraced her and she returned their caresses.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>"Come," said Psyche, "enter with me my house and refresh yourselves with whatever your sister has to offer."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Then taking their hands she led them into her golden palace, and committed them to the care of her numerous train of attendant voices, to refresh them in her baths and at her table, and to show them all her treasures. The view of these celestial delights caused envy to enter their bosoms, at seeing their young sister possessed of such state and splendor, so much exceeding their own.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>They asked her numberless questions, among others what sort of a person her husband was. Psyche replied that he was a beautiful youth, who generally spent the daytime in hunting upon the mountains.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>The sisters, not satisfied with this reply, soon made her confess that she had never seen him. Then they proceeded to fill her bosom with dark suspicions. "Call to mind," they said, "the Pythian oracle that declared you destined to marry a direful and tremendous monster. The inhabitants of this valley say that your husband is a terrible and monstrous serpent, who nourishes you for a while with dainties that he may by and by devour you. Take our advice. Provide yourself with a lamp and a sharp knife; put them in concealment that your husband may not discover them, and when he is sound asleep, slip out of bed, bring forth your lamp, and see for yourself whether what they say is true or not. If it is, hesitate not to cut off the monster's head, and thereby recover your liberty."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Psyche resisted these persuasions as well as she could, but they did not fail to have their effect on her mind, and when her sisters were gone, their words and her own curiosity were too strong for her to resist. So she prepared her lamp and a sharp knife, and hid them out of sight of her husband. When he had fallen into his first sleep, she silently rose and uncovering her lamp beheld not a hideous monster, but the most beautiful and charming of the gods, with his golden ringlets wandering over his snowy neck and crimson cheek, with two dewy wings on his shoulders, whiter than snow, and with shining feathers like the tender blossoms of spring.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>As she leaned the lamp over to have a better view of his face, a drop of burning oil fell on the shoulder of the god. Startled, he opened his eyes and fixed them upon her. Then, without saying a word, he spread his white wings and flew out of the window. Psyche, in vain endeavoring to follow him, fell from the window to the ground.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Cupid, beholding her as she lay in the dust, stopped his flight for an instant and said, "Oh foolish Psyche, is it thus you repay my love? After I disobeyed my mother's commands and made you my wife, will you think me a monster and cut off my head? But go; return to your sisters, whose advice you seem to think preferable to mine. I inflict no other punishment on you than to leave you for ever. Love cannot dwell with suspicion." So saying, he fled away, leaving poor Psyche prostrate on the ground, filling the place with mournful lamentations.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>When she had recovered some degree of composure she looked around her, but the palace and gardens had vanished, and she found herself in the open field not far from the city where her sisters dwelt. She repaired thither and told them the whole story of her misfortunes, at which, pretending to grieve, those spiteful creatures inwardly rejoiced.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>"For now," said they, "he will perhaps choose one of us." With this idea, without saying a word of her intentions, each of them rose early the next morning and ascended the mountain, and having reached the top, called upon Zephyr to receive her and bear her to his lord; then leaping up, and not being sustained by Zephyr, fell down the precipice and was dashed to pieces.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Psyche meanwhile wandered day and night, without food or repose, in search of her husband. Casting her eyes on a lofty mountain having on its brow a magnificent temple, she sighed and said to herself, "Perhaps my love, my lord, inhabits there," and directed her steps thither.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>She had no sooner entered than she saw heaps of corn, some in loose ears and some in sheaves, with mingled ears of barley. Scattered about, lay sickles and rakes, and all the instruments of harvest, without order, as if thrown carelessly out of the weary reapers' hands in the sultry hours of the day.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>This unseemly confusion the pious Psyche put an end to, by separating and sorting everything to its proper place and kind, believing that she ought to neglect none of the gods, but endeavor by her piety to engage them all in her behalf. The holy Ceres, whose temple it was, finding her so religiously employed, thus spoke to her, "Oh Psyche, truly worthy of our pity, though I cannot shield you from the frowns of Venus, yet I can teach you how best to allay her displeasure. Go, then, and voluntarily surrender yourself to your lady and sovereign, and try by modesty and submission to win her forgiveness, and perhaps her favor will restore you the husband you have lost."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Psyche obeyed the commands of Ceres and took her way to the temple of Venus, endeavoring to fortify her mind and ruminating on what she should say and how best propitiate the angry goddess, feeling that the issue was doubtful and perhaps fatal.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Venus received her with angry countenance. "Most undutiful and faithless of servants," said she, "do you at last remember that you really have a mistress? Or have you rather come to see your sick husband, yet laid up of the wound given him by his loving wife? You are so ill favored and disagreeable that the only way you can merit your lover must be by dint of industry and diligence. I will make trial of your housewifery." Then she ordered Psyche to be led to the storehouse of her temple, where was laid up a great quantity of wheat, barley, millet, vetches, beans, and lentils prepared for food for her pigeons, and said, "Take and separate all these grains, putting all of the same kind in a parcel by themselves, and see that you get it done before evening." Then Venus departed and left her to her task.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>But Psyche, in a perfect consternation at the enormous work, sat stupid and silent, without moving a finger to the inextricable heap.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>While she sat despairing, Cupid stirred up the little ant, a native of the fields, to take compassion on her. The leader of the anthill, followed by whole hosts of his six-legged subjects, approached the heap, and with the utmost diligence taking grain by grain, they separated the pile, sorting each kind to its parcel; and when it was all done, they vanished out of sight in a moment.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Venus at the approach of twilight returned from the banquet of the gods, breathing odors and crowned with roses. Seeing the task done, she exclaimed, "This is no work of yours, wicked one, but his, whom to your own and his misfortune you have enticed." So saying, she threw her a piece of black bread for her supper and went away.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Next morning Venus ordered Psyche to be called and said to her, "Behold yonder grove which stretches along the margin of the water. There you will find sheep feeding without a shepherd, with golden-shining fleeces on their backs. Go, fetch me a sample of that precious wool gathered from every one of their fleeces."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Psyche obediently went to the riverside, prepared to do her best to execute the command. But the river god inspired the reeds with harmonious murmurs, which seemed to say, "Oh maiden, severely tried, tempt not the dangerous flood, nor venture among the formidable rams on the other side, for as long as they are under the influence of the rising sun, they burn with a cruel rage to destroy mortals with their sharp horns or rude teeth. But when the noontide sun has driven the cattle to the shade, and the serene spirit of the flood has lulled them to rest, you may then cross in safety, and you will find the woolly gold sticking to the bushes and the trunks of the trees."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Thus the compassionate river god gave Psyche instructions how to accomplish her task, and by observing his directions she soon returned to Venus with her arms full of the golden fleece; but she received not the approbation of her implacable mistress, who said, "I know very well it is by none of your own doings that you have succeeded in this task, and I am not satisfied yet that you have any capacity to make yourself useful. But I have another task for you. Here, take this box and go your way to the infernal shades, and give this box to Proserpine and say, 'My mistress Venus desires you to send her a little of your beauty, for in tending her sick son she has lost some of her own.' Be not too long on your errand, for I must paint myself with it to appear at the circle of the gods and goddesses this evening."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Psyche was now satisfied that her destruction was at hand, being obliged to go with her own feet directly down to Erebus. Wherefore, to make no delay of what was not to be avoided, she goes to the top of a high tower to precipitate herself headlong, thus to descend the shortest way to the shades below. But a voice from the tower said to her, "Why, poor unlucky girl, do you design to put an end to your days in so dreadful a manner? And what cowardice makes you sink under this last danger who have been so miraculously supported in all your former?" Then the voice told her how by a certain cave she might reach the realms of Pluto, and how to avoid all the dangers of the road, to pass by Cerberus, the three-headed dog, and prevail on Charon, the ferryman, to take her across the black river and bring her back again. But the voice added, "When Proserpine has given you the box filled with her beauty, of all things this is chiefly to be observed by you, that you never once open or look into the box nor allow your curiosity to pry into the treasure of the beauty of the goddesses."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Psyche, encouraged by this advice, obeyed it in all things, and taking heed to her ways traveled safely to the kingdom of Pluto. She was admitted to the palace of Proserpine, and without accepting the delicate seat or delicious banquet that was offered her, but contented with coarse bread for her food, she delivered her message from Venus. Presently the box was returned to her, shut and filled with the precious commodity.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Then she returned the way she came, and glad was she to come out once more into the light of day.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>But having got so far successfully through her dangerous task a longing desire seized her to examine the contents of the box. "What," said she, "shall I, the carrier of this divine beauty, not take the least bit to put on my cheeks to appear to more advantage in the eyes of my beloved husband!" So she carefully opened the box, but found nothing there of any beauty at all, but an infernal and truly Stygian sleep, which being thus set free from its prison, took possession of her, and she fell down in the midst of the road, a sleepy corpse without sense or motion.</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>But Cupid, being now recovered from his wound, and not able longer to bear the absence of his beloved Psyche, slipping through the smallest crack of the window of his chamber which happened to be left open, flew to the spot where Psyche lay, and gathering up the sleep from her body closed it again in the box, and waked Psyche with a light touch of one of his arrows. "Again," said he, "have you almost perished by the same curiosity. But now perform exactly the task imposed on you by my mother, and I will take care of the rest."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Then Cupid, as swift as lightning penetrating the heights of heaven, presented himself before Jupiter with his supplication. Jupiter lent a favoring ear, and pleaded the cause of the lovers so earnestly with Venus that he won her consent. On this he sent Mercury to bring Psyche up to the heavenly assembly, and when she arrived, handing her a cup of ambrosia, he said, "Drink this, Psyche, and be immortal; nor shall Cupid ever break away from the knot in which he is tied, but these nuptials shall be perpetual."</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="background-color: white;"><i>Thus Psyche became at last united to Cupid, and in due time they had a daughter born to them whose name was Pleasure.</i><br />
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<i>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</i></div></div>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-68209832508952316102012-01-27T23:16:00.001+08:002012-01-28T00:01:36.463+08:00Just A Little Bored and VainI got a little bored, and really when I'm bored, it's like the only other things I do are bake, eat, sleep or take pictures. Unfortunately I don't have much of a model to take pictures of and if you've noticed in my pictures, I'm not exactly the best kind of model either. But I had fun. And I may look like a fool so excuse my stupidity :))<br />
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Why I dressed up is a different story. I kinda had a hard time looking for something to wear but I liked this outfit :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBo4EXDXXgsecvo9ho8BEvkhUaDBGoR94rsD6Z4E1oZXDviYgWT72mzM6pK6iczAulw17Ckxmi_7fw250EmfzrhYYqUhuJUQLN7KX_WvmFLu-WSmpAhOaSbZJpz_qak-rrWYsvZ1-i8GWg/s1600/_MG_4282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBo4EXDXXgsecvo9ho8BEvkhUaDBGoR94rsD6Z4E1oZXDviYgWT72mzM6pK6iczAulw17Ckxmi_7fw250EmfzrhYYqUhuJUQLN7KX_WvmFLu-WSmpAhOaSbZJpz_qak-rrWYsvZ1-i8GWg/s640/_MG_4282.JPG" width="337" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">nag-eemote lang teh? :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-HOU3wy-tOmqscm3au8PKsrPBIIXqv9CkvFg2ypB8aDaVsnTRRMbpAmXT8yCxd0Ug7omaDNy3C-IEgxg086Yd7pW0Tu2Aft5lNGU9LY4p4En0c7LWcdQkLMhAGYgbAYbh00yE7pu7V7V/s1600/IMG_4284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-HOU3wy-tOmqscm3au8PKsrPBIIXqv9CkvFg2ypB8aDaVsnTRRMbpAmXT8yCxd0Ug7omaDNy3C-IEgxg086Yd7pW0Tu2Aft5lNGU9LY4p4En0c7LWcdQkLMhAGYgbAYbh00yE7pu7V7V/s640/IMG_4284.JPG" width="340" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THIS is more like me XD</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT2HzXFc8LSfCbha6EsVWhXoS5cLLyma4XfVdpiXUoYN7oUAdARH49nJctErzcutzpJBwViC4DLDH4hTBDQ71_m_BjeUcsY6cHpNKj-LBuMMePF2c91knoB7qTyB-o3ezTYXMIGSrFmpVc/s1600/IMG_4285.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT2HzXFc8LSfCbha6EsVWhXoS5cLLyma4XfVdpiXUoYN7oUAdARH49nJctErzcutzpJBwViC4DLDH4hTBDQ71_m_BjeUcsY6cHpNKj-LBuMMePF2c91knoB7qTyB-o3ezTYXMIGSrFmpVc/s640/IMG_4285.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello Chubby self :))</td></tr>
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My arms and their flab :)))<br />
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But yeah, I decided wearing shorts tomorrow won't be such a good idea at a church :)) Soooooo, I'm gonna be wearing a skirt tomorrow :( The sad face is because I might have to go to class wearing the clothes I'm gonna be wearing at the wedding :| Gah. Btw, the wedding theme is lime green and royal blue so.. I'm thinking the top in the pics, yellow flats and a royal blue skirt with little embroidery accents of yellow :)<br />
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Leave me a comment if you want ;) Thanks for the views, God bless! :Dit'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-15776431713466082662012-01-26T22:03:00.000+08:002012-01-26T22:03:31.544+08:00As A StudentI have to study for Logic tonight *don't know what that has to do with my college course for sure* but I thought I'd have a little fun with my uniform first since quite honestly, the uniform is one of the major reasons why I go to my school :))<br />
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Cardigan courtesy of <3 :"><br />
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emoting :))<br />
<br />
So the things you might notice about the uniform:<br />
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no socks. Heels *pain*. Blue skirt with matching necktie. Collared polo that hugs the figure *psh, what figure?*<br />
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By the way, which photo looks the most like my student life? I'll give you a hint, it's somewhere in the middle XD<br />
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Now? Time to study =_=it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-57214472879350046492012-01-23T02:07:00.000+08:002012-01-23T02:07:23.476+08:00HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR!I'm a little ecstatic today and I can't quite go to sleep when I feel like sharing what mood I'm in right now.<br />
<br />
I'm happy.<br />
<br />
Simply put, today was a Chinese New Year celebration for the fam.<br />
<br />
We spent today at church, where I got to hear more of God's word. Had lunch at home, not what we wanted honestly since we were expecting to eat out *plans changed*<br />
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By the afternoon I had a really long nap though I already had a couple of thing planned when I woke up. Sadly I woke up by 5 pm. I took 3 hours of sleep, not a nap :))<br />
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Dinnertime came and it was the pre-celebration. Some of the food that was prepared was kiampung, and crispy pata. Not bad, the all pork thing though I prefer fish :)<br />
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Then came the flying lanterns bit :"><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_mpgSXCWb8fIy6CkjdzTbunM2EmgmQJcG6GH8ZoihGIasTIP4yEGHQ8WIE0JYz513OL8CKKxWJ-W1XxpZ-DL4RsEXiI-WMILSAmsIdQINp7JHo34V5O2XHb0lbyNsqvnCrO5-Z0mzU0H/s1600/IMG_4099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH_mpgSXCWb8fIy6CkjdzTbunM2EmgmQJcG6GH8ZoihGIasTIP4yEGHQ8WIE0JYz513OL8CKKxWJ-W1XxpZ-DL4RsEXiI-WMILSAmsIdQINp7JHo34V5O2XHb0lbyNsqvnCrO5-Z0mzU0H/s640/IMG_4099.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">probably wishing it were another color :))</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxeDcYugtseBVZ__-fwxkeefUILHSLzObYXpoChmzeSdApOwEO9ZmnVHYcHWrICv2I5EG1P6iVE_c-Rra2j3P48oDE76ZCSUrIwge_2XiMSSmcKB3XPMDx4m86pQZR2xe4etasSS0sMEbS/s1600/IMG_4105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxeDcYugtseBVZ__-fwxkeefUILHSLzObYXpoChmzeSdApOwEO9ZmnVHYcHWrICv2I5EG1P6iVE_c-Rra2j3P48oDE76ZCSUrIwge_2XiMSSmcKB3XPMDx4m86pQZR2xe4etasSS0sMEbS/s640/IMG_4105.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the first of my 6 lanterns</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEDvusGhV1HnncGbgitYeoPYSMK32e6xzGvV5Xc86hYUfjwAoYym3WNqEhZo4zADyJ8qVQex5coT8RMUPhKXjMqoOuiOh2RLvliZOLm1NKYba3rwN28QmVwxeJqNYtE-E7we87SwCfoqmU/s1600/IMG_4116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEDvusGhV1HnncGbgitYeoPYSMK32e6xzGvV5Xc86hYUfjwAoYym3WNqEhZo4zADyJ8qVQex5coT8RMUPhKXjMqoOuiOh2RLvliZOLm1NKYba3rwN28QmVwxeJqNYtE-E7we87SwCfoqmU/s640/IMG_4116.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">shirt showing how much I like bright shiny things and the face that says<br />
I LOVE TODAY :))</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qEaXdtMR6WpGesMrEQ2EWgCeCktJ1EkcUWa8DNAdFkhOVZ8gkKn-m48juJikovpRgTVkufd6QfW__MxOXYYCU2ycnY9-nNl7B_POVT4mxu6YDuej7LXpZiVmziqtXa-dDhMbtSmP5r_6/s1600/IMG_4131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qEaXdtMR6WpGesMrEQ2EWgCeCktJ1EkcUWa8DNAdFkhOVZ8gkKn-m48juJikovpRgTVkufd6QfW__MxOXYYCU2ycnY9-nNl7B_POVT4mxu6YDuej7LXpZiVmziqtXa-dDhMbtSmP5r_6/s640/IMG_4131.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">waiting for it to inflate with warm air :D</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLagV_1coVueYb-Yp7Ofe2E6BIIToasswqaoHyBX-HGSw_4Hpa18b20mVk9qi2CvhqLY_BNyzwFeDhZW6PoctLsqz7UP1iiSVTYr_PqTdADIP1Xei_Wv4jXogvWbGSCBF5921DyeWQn_WO/s1600/IMG_4153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLagV_1coVueYb-Yp7Ofe2E6BIIToasswqaoHyBX-HGSw_4Hpa18b20mVk9qi2CvhqLY_BNyzwFeDhZW6PoctLsqz7UP1iiSVTYr_PqTdADIP1Xei_Wv4jXogvWbGSCBF5921DyeWQn_WO/s640/IMG_4153.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My outfit is so not for going out in :))) These are actually my pajamas XD</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQxStDbgItMzQBrDQhSEFhWsmlChDSqAZrdTg5Xk5fs8algBPP7FyaT8Dg2tHs6amqBpxyaNNL_OG4Jm-oxSqd940tKwjFgychAdUAa2BqT4zR0UlYl0vM_qV2VjmH6Le7u-TvJl4skRG/s1600/IMG_4183.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQxStDbgItMzQBrDQhSEFhWsmlChDSqAZrdTg5Xk5fs8algBPP7FyaT8Dg2tHs6amqBpxyaNNL_OG4Jm-oxSqd940tKwjFgychAdUAa2BqT4zR0UlYl0vM_qV2VjmH6Le7u-TvJl4skRG/s640/IMG_4183.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUW1W2l5YbHPctUcXafYVhRMA-OZNaJStDvkPbxFgsof7K4K_D737u4_GCYlGcUQm3RXH1AL6bEa10TGNwtnSCN533mqIPVJZAjj0ECjdpYcrJbarIuvTNnAyr6_7uY6ROUnui9WrRyiHV/s1600/IMG_4187.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUW1W2l5YbHPctUcXafYVhRMA-OZNaJStDvkPbxFgsof7K4K_D737u4_GCYlGcUQm3RXH1AL6bEa10TGNwtnSCN533mqIPVJZAjj0ECjdpYcrJbarIuvTNnAyr6_7uY6ROUnui9WrRyiHV/s640/IMG_4187.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">found in my photoblog: </td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="http://paintswithlight-photoportfolio.blogspot.com/">http://paintswithlight-photoportfolio.blogspot.com/</a><br />
All in all, I'm proud to say that you don't have to be CHINESE to celebrate this day :)) I had a lot of fun flying these lanterns with the people I love that I couldn't possibly have asked for a better day :"> Please do check out my photoblog as well for some of my other works!<br />
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Here's the link to it: <a href="http://paintswithlight-photoportfolio.blogspot.com/">http://paintswithlight-photoportfolio.blogspot.com/</a><br />
<br />
I'd be so grateful if you stopped by and left a comment for me too, any criticism will be accepted :"><br />
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XOXO Marion :)it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-60316155548292302052012-01-13T22:05:00.000+08:002012-01-13T22:05:49.469+08:00CPH Confessions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Today for a class *an 11 hour class mind you* we had an activity day.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Sounds like a break huh? Not exactly. See this was of course an opportunity we all took as a chance to have some fun in a subject that took long grueling years of our lives for an alternative of activities, activities and MORE activities. It was the change from the hours of being stuck in our seats while our teacher gave lecture after lecture but we didn't know what our teacher had in mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYyRisoOW52kwT8kFWrLcflDeOECGzFilWiU0tnBEDJWoYZrV4Qj5n0FqgcqblX4etBLT-M5yKe5-bFCpNLDC7XTZS0c7MCyPa4Dd2l3EHzzkjS5ypfiGXpm9fPCv7Y8xpdRZynrRlddZX/s1600/IMG_3641.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYyRisoOW52kwT8kFWrLcflDeOECGzFilWiU0tnBEDJWoYZrV4Qj5n0FqgcqblX4etBLT-M5yKe5-bFCpNLDC7XTZS0c7MCyPa4Dd2l3EHzzkjS5ypfiGXpm9fPCv7Y8xpdRZynrRlddZX/s400/IMG_3641.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
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<div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Our class happens to be unique. It's much more than just a bunch of people who differ in a matter of ways like our manners of interacting with one another in general. I took the opportunity of course to bring Alice and take a couple to sneaky shots from the models I had been waiting to have ;)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">All in all, I had a lot of fun. It was like another recollection, exactly what we needed to keep moving forward :D<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-12511832573517655472012-01-11T22:49:00.001+08:002012-01-11T22:53:21.394+08:00Feelings in Harmony<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Song: All About Us</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Artist: He Is We ft. Owl City</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/qC9rJZKUAPg?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
Songs are what feelings sound like. They can cut deeper than any ordinary beat and they have no expiration date. They'll talk to you and make you move in a way you'd never thought you would have before. Even more so, they'll remain in your memory no matter what happens: through heartbreak or sadness, to happiness and joy. That's the power music has. That's what helps the heart become heard.it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-67534042555830751322012-01-08T01:24:00.000+08:002012-01-08T01:24:35.196+08:00Home bodySince I'm the kind of kid who's stuck at home a lot *lame for an 18 year old, I know* I tend to have indoorsy pasttimes.<div><br />
</div><div>From my blog, you might have noticed some *if not all* of them.</div><div><br />
</div><div>1.) Photography</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div>2.) Reading and writing</div><div><br />
</div><div>and last but not the least of all,</div><div><br />
</div><div>3.) <b>BAKING</b></div><div><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTWncy3_BIEGfqw603hv2ukSCy9nq17oXnPiEFFCfMqU2uQ7UXe-rOnMKKsgPRsSwxSl0hieTVksPxBIO4myWwvvOMnnYaJJhP0UdTivYBp2TNiKjopS_GlIIU1HO6HksegMbdr6SyMUnr/s1600/IMG_3580.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTWncy3_BIEGfqw603hv2ukSCy9nq17oXnPiEFFCfMqU2uQ7UXe-rOnMKKsgPRsSwxSl0hieTVksPxBIO4myWwvvOMnnYaJJhP0UdTivYBp2TNiKjopS_GlIIU1HO6HksegMbdr6SyMUnr/s640/IMG_3580.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">mix mix mix mix the batterrrrrrrrrr</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVV-3sLBPqt5EW3zcrzrmg4TEwAK4mgSxNpNS_HMxMnrHvigAHwIr7qtInf1hY5lbnipBFImQdSee5Yc9LF5NRNRaRNhWLHZ7WVU3AdR_gX-v9I4W6w4pJkKY7CY-IgR4Vszk_EhrK0IkZ/s1600/IMG_3581.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVV-3sLBPqt5EW3zcrzrmg4TEwAK4mgSxNpNS_HMxMnrHvigAHwIr7qtInf1hY5lbnipBFImQdSee5Yc9LF5NRNRaRNhWLHZ7WVU3AdR_gX-v9I4W6w4pJkKY7CY-IgR4Vszk_EhrK0IkZ/s640/IMG_3581.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh09Km7i68mhHeTWLXARlKRj6rvlASEn3WydwxeFklYhacQqliFGhNk0lYR4kFE4GN3BWwLKNxmu4KXxSAje1Z4tbfF8kKdlLTkFPsctdLYCJcAWX0EdpIs98VSz36uuACyvti8Iw8TM5_/s1600/IMG_3584.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh09Km7i68mhHeTWLXARlKRj6rvlASEn3WydwxeFklYhacQqliFGhNk0lYR4kFE4GN3BWwLKNxmu4KXxSAje1Z4tbfF8kKdlLTkFPsctdLYCJcAWX0EdpIs98VSz36uuACyvti8Iw8TM5_/s640/IMG_3584.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">semi sweet chocolate chips ;)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8EzwQrnB8w1npYEy9fC31761alv5lgicvR_4xh8Zz807h6fwGOCNGtEwWjmFk3nPz3vfO87t3sQ7NPPj8XzE93yhr12U1a5D9k9vHYhGPs-WpMmWlBXdMqxka4Dwr3gG1uB49t5P2nqnO/s1600/IMG_3585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8EzwQrnB8w1npYEy9fC31761alv5lgicvR_4xh8Zz807h6fwGOCNGtEwWjmFk3nPz3vfO87t3sQ7NPPj8XzE93yhr12U1a5D9k9vHYhGPs-WpMmWlBXdMqxka4Dwr3gG1uB49t5P2nqnO/s640/IMG_3585.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3XJF7YaGXw_xCVDJPbt3CxJjSVzhPyQ5qfsiwtPrIBka4M7GHxWkMGUxLvDr4edFvPYMqLLa6Osxcj0aGlRJXzCTMIhxBTVAkZcMHLk7EantOY-PehJZbHjYb2m3_0_68HzjPjCmATYYi/s1600/IMG_3586.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3XJF7YaGXw_xCVDJPbt3CxJjSVzhPyQ5qfsiwtPrIBka4M7GHxWkMGUxLvDr4edFvPYMqLLa6Osxcj0aGlRJXzCTMIhxBTVAkZcMHLk7EantOY-PehJZbHjYb2m3_0_68HzjPjCmATYYi/s640/IMG_3586.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFOBqTkanwoYqivNvlkSPY_4xP5iE9SzhWP_NlKoXjtR5Th-gNzhlO-7_42-VGeg-kdsw6pHGSCrDeqQygt5JPyH0saR8g4ynop3ZahKq_25JG8t9mYPQDOEJZMM8yoyy0Mg44lhNZs0nD/s1600/IMG_3587.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFOBqTkanwoYqivNvlkSPY_4xP5iE9SzhWP_NlKoXjtR5Th-gNzhlO-7_42-VGeg-kdsw6pHGSCrDeqQygt5JPyH0saR8g4ynop3ZahKq_25JG8t9mYPQDOEJZMM8yoyy0Mg44lhNZs0nD/s640/IMG_3587.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">mixed with the batter..</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQLS36Q5YLNj9i1XWTSPk3IFdiQzWVWbG0s_IaE1znnWqIjEnFPQkNPUVFZ6Y9WIPAhPsBYqY-Q2s5uYOPKxLBP1WlDnn725bOXGh-TUWqm2EX4F4gFA8965MAC-QhaIIenN0L4ShzcXA/s1600/IMG_3588.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQLS36Q5YLNj9i1XWTSPk3IFdiQzWVWbG0s_IaE1znnWqIjEnFPQkNPUVFZ6Y9WIPAhPsBYqY-Q2s5uYOPKxLBP1WlDnn725bOXGh-TUWqm2EX4F4gFA8965MAC-QhaIIenN0L4ShzcXA/s640/IMG_3588.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqDrLuZ3-afHfzwAF9Cgwt38PaMk6kxCBc4ccH97INt3VqhyaJq1GdTOl8nJr8fmzTGEd9VYEWbT34EOJURnUorbB7g-wxl6jO7uFCgb22IaWmyBwGd2KccjppOFJnaEiEoWtXFiH9RbuA/s1600/IMG_3589.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqDrLuZ3-afHfzwAF9Cgwt38PaMk6kxCBc4ccH97INt3VqhyaJq1GdTOl8nJr8fmzTGEd9VYEWbT34EOJURnUorbB7g-wxl6jO7uFCgb22IaWmyBwGd2KccjppOFJnaEiEoWtXFiH9RbuA/s640/IMG_3589.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKa82b3YYTThljcieXLUypppVxvLmG7JBcqDEOvX1e2YWlaGAt9NoAERgcAfcobz666b9gq_JIWCx21p2S0IZD1PBt5qW8BUj6B7z7_RZ5DZll1qPu9tTXNxhl2E2N6hmVWGZM8i_4oMJ/s1600/IMG_3590.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWKa82b3YYTThljcieXLUypppVxvLmG7JBcqDEOvX1e2YWlaGAt9NoAERgcAfcobz666b9gq_JIWCx21p2S0IZD1PBt5qW8BUj6B7z7_RZ5DZll1qPu9tTXNxhl2E2N6hmVWGZM8i_4oMJ/s640/IMG_3590.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">put on the baking sheet</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_hAgPs2CiWb3kpW7X94DAYNDUZT0U3sVd791mTEa6ApWklWnlswCv9_PH2D0FTCLnv5oKwD6XG5Io67TXpB9fbr9jrQfIr1RDwZefpACpdKzXQ9rrV-64lytzHkZ90aUlNw9WQl5M7kei/s1600/IMG_3591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_hAgPs2CiWb3kpW7X94DAYNDUZT0U3sVd791mTEa6ApWklWnlswCv9_PH2D0FTCLnv5oKwD6XG5Io67TXpB9fbr9jrQfIr1RDwZefpACpdKzXQ9rrV-64lytzHkZ90aUlNw9WQl5M7kei/s640/IMG_3591.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjzatPWcBTKHdRty_HGaeh4Y9cPELDR3_yqJq5SAzu99P1jhyphenhyphenB_nGqfVjoaGtSyc4mBTJLTSdFR0FCJlXrepmFYdgTasnR4KYg-uc3-w4IeW0yQyd9uQNDFWwbfuVj7DPU7crXcikJzqmm/s1600/IMG_3593.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjzatPWcBTKHdRty_HGaeh4Y9cPELDR3_yqJq5SAzu99P1jhyphenhyphenB_nGqfVjoaGtSyc4mBTJLTSdFR0FCJlXrepmFYdgTasnR4KYg-uc3-w4IeW0yQyd9uQNDFWwbfuVj7DPU7crXcikJzqmm/s640/IMG_3593.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and baked to make CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div>I've got a lot of people who love me so much, they keep letting me bake these babies. Full of FAT...er full of LOVE <3</div>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-82144478928205127312012-01-07T23:18:00.000+08:002012-01-07T23:18:12.516+08:00OINK!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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</div>There are times when I really really want to buy something, usually I'm the dork who doesn't buy that many clothes but THINGS. I love shiny, pretty things! >.< BUT I have a problem: I spend ALL my money on food :(<div><br />
</div><div>When I got home, it dawned on me that I had quite a number of piggybanks at hand, most of them I had never used because, well, let's face it, I'm not the type who <b>doesn't</b> spend money.</div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid4cB8839p-Znowh_a5pGcVo_Ac-UaZSn7rxHovKApktG_fSbxm321C0Nsk58VxwAjyW9UnFZF3BkttyUJ82sZnbHwl-OONCaTkCa6h224pged9XylNM5DRr1EeR2afGRHFl8JlVMg6rTE/s1600/IMG_3596.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid4cB8839p-Znowh_a5pGcVo_Ac-UaZSn7rxHovKApktG_fSbxm321C0Nsk58VxwAjyW9UnFZF3BkttyUJ82sZnbHwl-OONCaTkCa6h224pged9XylNM5DRr1EeR2afGRHFl8JlVMg6rTE/s640/IMG_3596.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM8xN-N1WpT5b_Rl0422hxUTBU4V7sSXYnmgFN8oFIAphsLwuZX10xDrIYvRtBds2WfRTNJSAkvt6ctGQY4ph3t6-usIKIMK0tGk-AEB1q9teL96_h4Ik7yF38mkO8lrOP6V1jWEE08ZnL/s1600/IMG_3600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM8xN-N1WpT5b_Rl0422hxUTBU4V7sSXYnmgFN8oFIAphsLwuZX10xDrIYvRtBds2WfRTNJSAkvt6ctGQY4ph3t6-usIKIMK0tGk-AEB1q9teL96_h4Ik7yF38mkO8lrOP6V1jWEE08ZnL/s400/IMG_3600.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the "put some money inside me please" look</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNIhg6VWY3m8mIEAKp1DieQIz7QIX3dRMgFxHzB5p7fSeNeBeeXkxtGMT0JlML4HGUA9aFS3gIvXpEfAdwLzP-tfdc9lomup9ZacbkNqearzHbEmZm-UV80FTaYB6mr7iaPcsLvZy4zSWf/s1600/IMG_3603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNIhg6VWY3m8mIEAKp1DieQIz7QIX3dRMgFxHzB5p7fSeNeBeeXkxtGMT0JlML4HGUA9aFS3gIvXpEfAdwLzP-tfdc9lomup9ZacbkNqearzHbEmZm-UV80FTaYB6mr7iaPcsLvZy4zSWf/s400/IMG_3603.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As chinky as I am and as many years as I've had in a Chinese school, I cannot<br />
for the life of me remember what that word it or what it means.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_koMzwWGDBrjeP2mgfhl-MFuLj-f-_KKUbA4BQGTmlg3dotUbrPhf93mwc1JwlkN8wlbty3iEljw-HgGuzDaIY0F3krQqJ3Tq2gCXQAckC6-67Ufq_mvDbjn1pHN0zs8LSGtn7XhAUQ1O/s1600/IMG_3607.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_koMzwWGDBrjeP2mgfhl-MFuLj-f-_KKUbA4BQGTmlg3dotUbrPhf93mwc1JwlkN8wlbty3iEljw-HgGuzDaIY0F3krQqJ3Tq2gCXQAckC6-67Ufq_mvDbjn1pHN0zs8LSGtn7XhAUQ1O/s400/IMG_3607.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this is actually a frog and not a pig HAHA</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>To prove it, all of the little banks have nothing inside them save a few coins. YEAH, COINS. HAHA. So here's to me for 2012, to actually filling these babies! :D</div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXbwdMBRR3ZVHSoFyerBRlsAtY5F_NKQ23S4Hey84Cu8_THiVmWQn7DXLM_BJRYlOmwS7ZEjEPn3YS2LObvIiuNG4v-iKpLyNkPj-fFi7Ga_kQBKefU_TUOVt0eHstkrrLnXXn8hUyG_lK/s1600/IMG_3605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXbwdMBRR3ZVHSoFyerBRlsAtY5F_NKQ23S4Hey84Cu8_THiVmWQn7DXLM_BJRYlOmwS7ZEjEPn3YS2LObvIiuNG4v-iKpLyNkPj-fFi7Ga_kQBKefU_TUOVt0eHstkrrLnXXn8hUyG_lK/s640/IMG_3605.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">oink!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-20035179706434924862012-01-05T20:28:00.001+08:002012-01-05T20:30:41.087+08:00City of Fallen Angels bit :)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8df3k__FxNE/TwWV48JhRPI/AAAAAAAAATk/iGu8gLgpTWk/s1600/IMG_3575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8df3k__FxNE/TwWV48JhRPI/AAAAAAAAATk/iGu8gLgpTWk/s640/IMG_3575.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">City of Fallen Angels page 75</span></td></tr>
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Currently still reading and having fun with the book because I am still in love with the unavailable Jace Lightwood <3<br />
<br />
Another love I will ALWAYS have is for reading :) Call me a dork, a nerd or whatever but I will live if you hand me a book on interesting stories. Reading has not only helped my grammar, but it has also provided a way for me to express myself through writing. I'm not that good at writing really, but if you love it, you don't have to take people's criticism if it won't help you improve ;)<br />
<br />
Photo courtesy of moi taken just a few minutes ago at home ;)<br />
This blog isn't only about pictures, but what they have to tell too :Dit'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-85090066796741145682011-12-31T01:51:00.000+08:002011-12-31T01:51:58.004+08:00Christmas BreakBoredom a given when you spend your entire break at home with nothing but the internet, the bed and the fridge as your friends.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-16t6ijJjMhI/Tv333bhSJEI/AAAAAAAAAS4/K5yTgls8iT8/s1600/IMG_3520.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-16t6ijJjMhI/Tv333bhSJEI/AAAAAAAAAS4/K5yTgls8iT8/s400/IMG_3520.JPG" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because the first New Year is coming :D</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0KBy1zb14cg/Tv336553UzI/AAAAAAAAATA/u2pZbQMuT3Y/s1600/IMG_3522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0KBy1zb14cg/Tv336553UzI/AAAAAAAAATA/u2pZbQMuT3Y/s400/IMG_3522.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boredom also takes a part of this too :))</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ObkaVV8utGg/Tv337QrLq9I/AAAAAAAAATE/eJcXK2_pO3M/s1600/IMG_3513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ObkaVV8utGg/Tv337QrLq9I/AAAAAAAAATE/eJcXK2_pO3M/s400/IMG_3513.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apples, covered in condensada. I'm a sugar addict :"></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ObqRSswidZk/Tv338T1bvaI/AAAAAAAAATQ/iRd1dfzQD2k/s1600/IMG_3514.CR2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ObqRSswidZk/Tv338T1bvaI/AAAAAAAAATQ/iRd1dfzQD2k/s400/IMG_3514.CR2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some cookies from Korea from a churchmate :)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UUn_j-nh8dc/Tv34B5vmjKI/AAAAAAAAATY/0XXSThrVhaw/s1600/IMG_3515.CR2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UUn_j-nh8dc/Tv34B5vmjKI/AAAAAAAAATY/0XXSThrVhaw/s400/IMG_3515.CR2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And chips. Delish <3</td></tr>
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<br />
Before the year ends, I'd like to update once more for the year :) Not just because I've been busy with school and stuff, but because so far, my semestral break has been pretty mellow. And by mellow, I mean a little boring. All I feel is that I'm missing people, a certain someone mostly and I can't wait for school to start because that'd mean getting to see human beings. After all, in all my current photos, no other people are involved :))it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-60940896273219967702011-12-27T00:27:00.000+08:002011-12-27T00:27:56.780+08:00See You Soon :')Sembreak na ngayon and most people go home.<br />
<br />
That includes him.<br />
<br />
What could I do about it?<br />
<br />
The thought of him going home makes me smile but knowing he has to leave me here doesn't. In fact it takes a lot of strength for me not to cry. Even more not to tell him what's wrong with me.<br />
<br />
Our Christmas break began on the 21st. After our Prelim exams. I asked him when he'd be going home and he said on the 23rd probably. What would he be doing the next 2 days?<br />
<br />
The crazy boy told me the extra days were for me.<br />
<br />
We spent the next day, the 22nd together, buying gifts for his family members.<br />
<br />
him: mine, kailangan ko palang umuwi ngayong gabi. Pag6:30<br />
me: oh, okay. *inside </3*<br />
<br />
while buying gifts, I couldn't keep my mind off his statement. It just kept making me sad :( And eventually, no matter how hard I tried to keep the tears at bay, they fell.<br />
<br />
After shopping for the gifts, I told him he had to go home and pack up his things. By 3:45, he had a couple of hours to prepare.<br />
<br />
him: tulungan mo na lang ako prepare ng gamit ko.<br />
<br />
and wordlessly, I took his hand and went with him. I knew it was going to be a chance for me to cry it out..<br />
<br />
him: sama ka sakin. Please.<br />
<br />
those words made my heart hurt so much, I didn't bother hiding the tears even though I knew it'd hurt him to see me cry too..<br />
<br />
when we were finally alone, I cried my heart out. Soon, he cried a little along with me.<br />
<br />
I helped him pack and gave him lots of hugs.<br />
<br />
him: babalik naman ako soon. Wag mong kalimutan na laging nasa puso mo lang ako.<br />
<br />
when he asked if I wanted to take anything home with me, the first thing that popped into my head was: you. And then I decided to ask for the shirt he was wearing.<br />
<br />
That night, I wore that shirt and hugged Thirdy *his monthsary gift last last month* and tried not to cry as much.it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-36332251706961600042011-12-26T23:44:00.001+08:002011-12-27T00:03:02.850+08:00Christmas Party with Friends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uCe9D_Bg-so/TviBjafwhaI/AAAAAAAAARA/ow37jWxfcSI/s1600/38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uCe9D_Bg-so/TviBjafwhaI/AAAAAAAAARA/ow37jWxfcSI/s400/38.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U9Ku_hMu0BU/TviBkKc-aSI/AAAAAAAAARE/IXCHL0WkAi0/s1600/43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U9Ku_hMu0BU/TviBkKc-aSI/AAAAAAAAARE/IXCHL0WkAi0/s400/43.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_kUYGwXYgH0/TviBkzv6byI/AAAAAAAAARM/Urk-iYKZp2s/s1600/46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_kUYGwXYgH0/TviBkzv6byI/AAAAAAAAARM/Urk-iYKZp2s/s400/46.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ang nagdidiet :))</td></tr>
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Christmas party with my Hormones fam nung December 21st, right after our last exams for the Prelims <3<br />
<br />
Call time was 11:30 at Abreeza, but people actually came by 12:30 so I had lunch ahead *didn't wake up early enough to have breakfast again :">*<br />
<br />
The meet up place was at HUKAD, strange that people keep complimenting it being known as the Cebu place and I'm like.. okay. HAHAHA<br />
<br />
After lunch and a lot of noise, we went to New Jersy to get a couple of group shots. By far, this is one of the best Christmas parties I've ever had with friends :">it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-73204145999831216972011-12-05T00:33:00.001+08:002011-12-05T00:41:21.724+08:00The Guys in My Life :)Having my first and only boyfriend makes him the butt of most jokes my male family members have. Or maybe they aren't jokes? I don't know what to call them really.. but they aren't that bad. I just can't be too sure how to describe them to him haha.<br />
<div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIrgML35nqy2nHEJ8gYNmFJZe-1fJCkBjLs_7hYPnRrVZtXhcdrmLbt5JNXMOjcbeGvHY1nAGwknalXPmLBgGDpBlTu0ZYxzaAJvvNTGZfWjTB5bKaxklkvE_zhogIZLsiJszn-QiC-e_/s1600/IMG_0524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIrgML35nqy2nHEJ8gYNmFJZe-1fJCkBjLs_7hYPnRrVZtXhcdrmLbt5JNXMOjcbeGvHY1nAGwknalXPmLBgGDpBlTu0ZYxzaAJvvNTGZfWjTB5bKaxklkvE_zhogIZLsiJszn-QiC-e_/s400/IMG_0524.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dad and uncle haha</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6q5y3qb0W-ag99vF_Mfu7UzKKTwGcMj0JY5-ZMo-DrAfsmEQD3n7cW8YJ8QTqbffXZyHXzytYOeT2YjIAOzius9TNhw3vBJWA3kn0MVqcvmkfFspNlDe5xWJhRR4Ipb1bZWMFO0LeMiro/s1600/IMG_0529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6q5y3qb0W-ag99vF_Mfu7UzKKTwGcMj0JY5-ZMo-DrAfsmEQD3n7cW8YJ8QTqbffXZyHXzytYOeT2YjIAOzius9TNhw3vBJWA3kn0MVqcvmkfFspNlDe5xWJhRR4Ipb1bZWMFO0LeMiro/s400/IMG_0529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cousins (kuya jun *5 yrs older than me* and kuya jan *2/3 yrs older*)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpspBoeUf0XMzqZVK_mCcrmvFJUdEX3PZ2yrdZWUgeGNE-yX-k-5uBnaAZAOyAqg39DQBqgTpQZbUVwH-x8CkLGK1mDdpcoY3r50s3fzp9JlMG1e2SzVgOr3HNckm3GM7G_6Jsvao0nxD5/s1600/IMG_0624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpspBoeUf0XMzqZVK_mCcrmvFJUdEX3PZ2yrdZWUgeGNE-yX-k-5uBnaAZAOyAqg39DQBqgTpQZbUVwH-x8CkLGK1mDdpcoY3r50s3fzp9JlMG1e2SzVgOr3HNckm3GM7G_6Jsvao0nxD5/s400/IMG_0624.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">younger brother, cousin (he's about 8 yrs or more older than me), younger cousin<br />
(younger brother's age)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIvcxm_-naFzx4PJWSdLttwIa9OY2rHLMP1YIVPtFnbh_uY3rXPfWbesC1sq1g-u2MR5ttq60rS8rKDQn0DH4cYpRsblxvWMyApNpOjOB3wE-vzV4YkiysvuEub3h06vjFaWVisfbF1edK/s1600/IMG_0638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIvcxm_-naFzx4PJWSdLttwIa9OY2rHLMP1YIVPtFnbh_uY3rXPfWbesC1sq1g-u2MR5ttq60rS8rKDQn0DH4cYpRsblxvWMyApNpOjOB3wE-vzV4YkiysvuEub3h06vjFaWVisfbF1edK/s400/IMG_0638.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dad making a funny face XD</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnBiWwQHGvM66DB976LdQjAWkQLmQecnOhySH-zFE1_WZJjHMORTIl13i4Xr3KNBshM1j5VDcYgnRf-rkMjFXjogO855cxN37Mv554TZPOwYRtnQX4xAPEqOnFQK-iZUw9KTCtt69-kSrJ/s1600/IMG_0778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnBiWwQHGvM66DB976LdQjAWkQLmQecnOhySH-zFE1_WZJjHMORTIl13i4Xr3KNBshM1j5VDcYgnRf-rkMjFXjogO855cxN37Mv554TZPOwYRtnQX4xAPEqOnFQK-iZUw9KTCtt69-kSrJ/s400/IMG_0778.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my cousins look so gangstah. hahahaha</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HBXq71gltm9ofh2xEzZxacvHIicVLu7L-7MUcw0URQB5C8vtaZBTQTtyLihlY0MePs6ipPsuaVKpCcrughk8iuTE8jKrDKAidJ_Mob-f2aKtF4VSG6T8eD0h2vjV3G8mGJsL4SSpAuvg/s1600/IMG_0873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4HBXq71gltm9ofh2xEzZxacvHIicVLu7L-7MUcw0URQB5C8vtaZBTQTtyLihlY0MePs6ipPsuaVKpCcrughk8iuTE8jKrDKAidJ_Mob-f2aKtF4VSG6T8eD0h2vjV3G8mGJsL4SSpAuvg/s400/IMG_0873.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">bad boys. HAHA. seriously :| but they <3 me teehee</td></tr>
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</div><div><span id="goog_1038087815"></span><span id="goog_1038087816"></span><br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Not all of them, that's for sure but take my dad for example. *with translations* haha</div><div><br />
</div><div>*these all happened today :|*</div><div><br />
</div><div>papa: what are you going to be doing 5 years from now?</div><div>me: I dunno yet.</div><div>papa: maminyo na mo ni ***** ana? (will you be marrying him by then?)</div><div>me: o.o can't we wait till we're stable before that?</div><div>(papa laughs)</div><div><br />
</div><div>while at the kitchen</div><div>kuya jun: musta naman mo ni ***** day? naga away mo? (how are you and your boyfriend? Do you guys argue?)</div><div>me: wala uy. But-an man kaayo to. Ako man ang maldita. haha (No, he's too nice. I'm the mean one. Haha.)</div><div>papa: dili seloso, dili maldito. AH. Asa ka ana?? (Not the jealous type, not the bad boy type, where can you find that?? *shocked kind of voice*)</div><div>kuya jun: mayo na day, kay gi ingnan baya na nako, kung pahilakon na nimo akong ig-agaw, NAH. (That's good, because I've already warned him about hurting you or making you cry)</div><div>me: -_- but-an lagi to kuya uy. Naa gud koy dugo ni papa ug mama, ako gyud ang maldita. HAHA (I'm telling you, he's really nice. I've got papa as my dad and mama as my mom, I'm sure I'm the mean one. HAHA)</div><div><br />
</div><div>Le sigh. And this isn't the only instance in my life where my family gets all real about my boyfriend >.< I guess it's okay, as long as they're trying to get used to the idea :)</div></div>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-47009384093525142802011-12-01T23:32:00.000+08:002011-12-01T23:32:39.389+08:00Awake o.oThis is a blog right? Well, in my terms, a blog is more than just a bunch of events that have happened, it's also part diary. I know I must be crazy to have my thoughts so out in the open like this, but at times I can't help it. I'm such a strange kind of girl :))<br />
<br />
What am I going to talk about tonight? <b>Sleeplessness.</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>One simple thing to remember, the mind is a dangerous tool.</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
It's not that I have a case of insomnia, I LOVE sleep. It's just that before bed is usually the most relaxing time of one's day that one can't help but contemplate a lot of things.<br />
<br />
For a person like me, it simply says these: How I want to take more pictures that have depth, how I want to have less edits in my photos, How I should be managing my time and more often than not, how I'm going to get through the next day.<br />
<br />
The weird thing is that we all have this assumption that tomorrow is a given, when it's not.<br />
<br />
Right now, recalling these words over and over I'm beginning to question a lot of things. Doubt has began to plant itself and I'm not so sure what to do about it..<br />
<br />
Then the what if's come to mind.<br />
<br />
What if I was more of the loner type of person, would that let me feel less than the moment? Would it stop some thoughts from entering my mind? Would it stop the nonsense I tend to put into print for the world to see? Am I too happy or not happy enough..?<br />
<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Questions that...won't have much to do with me when I wake up later but for now, I'm just better off labeled as confused. :|it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-8367918878646809152011-11-24T21:43:00.000+08:002011-11-24T21:43:33.517+08:00Good food, Good company ;)So I've been into making this blog a diary of sorts and it's undeniable now that I am a romantic at heart. I believe that being cheesy is a good thing when you have someone to share it with and I believe that there is somebody for everybody.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLJ49tzaOhNeJ9JRuC3aomT2tGmtu5HmCXH-ndvBvqLTRWJlzK52tlxx8FHM1_i8kY2WQReUe3V6lGt5frERXKEEcwgaoTExD3B5rACivy_oQBPeykPX7G1s8Qjejkz6GqaoH4Ks5A4xV/s1600/IMG_0239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLJ49tzaOhNeJ9JRuC3aomT2tGmtu5HmCXH-ndvBvqLTRWJlzK52tlxx8FHM1_i8kY2WQReUe3V6lGt5frERXKEEcwgaoTExD3B5rACivy_oQBPeykPX7G1s8Qjejkz6GqaoH4Ks5A4xV/s640/IMG_0239.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's been 6 months! :D</td></tr>
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What will this entry be about? Well.. Its kind of personal now, since I have made this a habit at least a couple of times a week but my week from last has been full of happenings. Like what you may ask?<br />
<br />
Like celebrating birthdays, a death anniversary and a monthsary for starters.<br />
<br />
Monthsaries are those monthly things (hence the *month* part haha) in relationships. I spend it with my guyfriend having lunch, or dinner and watching a movie or two. Mostly, it's just me and him talking and being all thankful about everything that's happened. It gives us both an opportunity to catch up with the things that have been happening around us, and for me, it's a way to keep me grounded :)<br />
<br />
For the month of November tho, I've had quite a busy schedule for our day. I had a lunch date and a dinner date with a close friend who was celebrating her birthday tho I already gave her a gift on her day exactly. So where does this leave me with time for him?<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDYOXeIU4XkjQL_dG56wWcnJhzfBe59O2C2G6zrQft0gu9PEOPs9FHUZZ8h67_w5D8G8T72wTFQ2eTBwKRhSkXXfLFYCKwMeewWguhuGMPoPr7KWKimILOvZFE7qwIkJmdWfNCwwgmS8k/s1600/IMG_1274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDYOXeIU4XkjQL_dG56wWcnJhzfBe59O2C2G6zrQft0gu9PEOPs9FHUZZ8h67_w5D8G8T72wTFQ2eTBwKRhSkXXfLFYCKwMeewWguhuGMPoPr7KWKimILOvZFE7qwIkJmdWfNCwwgmS8k/s640/IMG_1274.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">some of my loves :D</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjug4vlhoIrOWNNbeqbpyFaslYakDhPgLB_fIUglnZlX4tBrbaErk0ulNOE8WZFgbPsLRlvfdnNq3mCDh8YBKfT0D5vvMvbUEMKfJNVl5wZA20RWTJ8v7fzSsewh_bNMDq0_VBibgxZZdtn/s1600/IMG_1287.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjug4vlhoIrOWNNbeqbpyFaslYakDhPgLB_fIUglnZlX4tBrbaErk0ulNOE8WZFgbPsLRlvfdnNq3mCDh8YBKfT0D5vvMvbUEMKfJNVl5wZA20RWTJ8v7fzSsewh_bNMDq0_VBibgxZZdtn/s400/IMG_1287.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hehe Pau :D</td></tr>
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<br />
His solution: have me tag along during his family's celebration of his great grandmother's death anniversary.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWjzUE0iGIlkDVVR93aPv-T4AxULCQCazcZr03DUTNddaJL7nlS2ZBVDXTXbs7b489sRsOCmyZ9_QduGBot_YbE73f_vHINNSDRdh35gYs9h12ZWwu1OqkL5HaZGSbw648g8wK6Qgh74m/s1600/IMG_9931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWjzUE0iGIlkDVVR93aPv-T4AxULCQCazcZr03DUTNddaJL7nlS2ZBVDXTXbs7b489sRsOCmyZ9_QduGBot_YbE73f_vHINNSDRdh35gYs9h12ZWwu1OqkL5HaZGSbw648g8wK6Qgh74m/s640/IMG_9931.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with his Mother's side of the family at his Great Grandma's site :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixRBLZF3K5R1rCucalphGJzHcB0Y-rFrMtUwO8trt5Jo_jS_BikaL0n0SQrOmCspqD4if4IIWpiHDls3Byw0NzCPXO1YPT5bwTlJCNWZ2XesqxyXrRMw9xDS6Oms6iEeg4-tJCUz7vxiIi/s1600/IMG_9943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixRBLZF3K5R1rCucalphGJzHcB0Y-rFrMtUwO8trt5Jo_jS_BikaL0n0SQrOmCspqD4if4IIWpiHDls3Byw0NzCPXO1YPT5bwTlJCNWZ2XesqxyXrRMw9xDS6Oms6iEeg4-tJCUz7vxiIi/s400/IMG_9943.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">:"></td></tr>
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And then I spent the night with highschool friends partying like a dork :)) No, we didn't really have to party, we went and had karaoke :))<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bvB231d5igUsK6UH8h145_jvJh0v7QbHCkoYDB7CzTJuT1v8P7uC_FD7SEw-TVIRUCtpZ_MZTwYMDdfZaHxHQeY2rUGW3LHiL6f86-7FtVFCfqZBv1VLEZ1WJTRTfFOS-BgFwGjZsQXV/s1600/IMG_0033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bvB231d5igUsK6UH8h145_jvJh0v7QbHCkoYDB7CzTJuT1v8P7uC_FD7SEw-TVIRUCtpZ_MZTwYMDdfZaHxHQeY2rUGW3LHiL6f86-7FtVFCfqZBv1VLEZ1WJTRTfFOS-BgFwGjZsQXV/s640/IMG_0033.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">out at World Palace, Davao</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2iXjkskr2pHofngOvekdr5lcFTqgcl3vXoxyQ_xgNbdDHtDdIK467FZo74XLRgPIVWzssOPtsBHXeptffGDj4sp8MnY24X9TeiwqqqXy3C4p6gEiNXHaj_lrVfCjbkpWe6gAJEXeQr_cx/s1600/IMG_9990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2iXjkskr2pHofngOvekdr5lcFTqgcl3vXoxyQ_xgNbdDHtDdIK467FZo74XLRgPIVWzssOPtsBHXeptffGDj4sp8MnY24X9TeiwqqqXy3C4p6gEiNXHaj_lrVfCjbkpWe6gAJEXeQr_cx/s400/IMG_9990.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dorky friend :))</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_1821297568"></span><span id="goog_1821297569"></span>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-41755633269719298122011-11-21T20:06:00.000+08:002011-11-21T20:06:18.871+08:00Making-UpI remember so many things from when I first wrote this on Fictionpress :)) What a noob I was :)) Anyways, I'm posting this up here so I can still have a little flashback on the way I wrote when I was younger, about..highschool? Ah. What a dorky romantic I am :))<br />
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<div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I felt oxygen rushing out of me as I watched him saunter over to my table. That and maybe when I dozed off during class, I accidentally hit my head on my table. A concussion was definitely a possibility.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"So, I guess we're partners now?" He asked giving me a grin. I felt my cheeks burning up at his sentence. This was like a dream come true for me! Here he was my crush for almost my whole life and we were partners for a project! I cast him a sideward glance and felt heat rush to my face when he gave a smirk.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I know you like what you see, Addie." He said cockily. Needless to say, my happy, girly side went away and my usual one, reserved solely for him alone, came on.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Arrogant ass.</span></i></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></i></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I do not. Don't eventry to flatter yourself." I said hotly hoping he'd get the hint and back off for a little while. He was hoping to say more, but I decided to focus a smidge of my attention to my blabbering teacher.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">My Home Economics teacher could not be any crueler than to pair me up with Blake Robinson who other than being my one and only crush, also happened to be my greatest enemy. Cliché anyone?</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Remember, it has to be something that benefits people and I don't just mean food. Now, you know this project will be taking up more than 30% of your total grade, so do your best and present this project in 3 weeks time." Mr. Hastings said cheerfully or should I say, diabolically?</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Apparently, I was wrong about my teacher.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">The bell rang just in time to allow others to happily leave the classroom including the evil teacher. Except of course me. I was too busy thinking over all the pros and cons of the situation and ended up with more cons than a statistics chart. Over reacting, I'm sure but almost true nonetheless. You see, when you put someone who can't say a nice thing in public to her crush and said crush in one room for a while, things end up messy.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>This is not going to end too well.</i> I groaned inwardly as I banged my head on the table for the second time that period.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">When I was finally sane enough to realize I was going to be late, I rushed out of the room only to be greeted by a solid thing or rather, a person who had solid bone structure at the halls making me lose my balance with a loud "oof!"</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I awaited the impact of my butt on the floor but it never came. Instead, arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me into a standing position. I blushed at the fact that someone had seen my klutziness live, but I didn't want to seem rude to the person who saved me so I looked up and jumped out of the warmth the arms gave me.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I always knew you wanted me Adrianne." Blake said with a seductive voice and then promptly burst into laughing at my red face both from embarrassment and… well, mostly from his statement.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Embarrassment soon made way for my anger at him laughing at me and pretty soon, I was bubbling over with my temper.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Oh shut up you cocky jerk." I said angrily as I left without letting him have his say. Although I did hear him cursing as I walked away to my next classroom I kept going in hopes to maybe agitate him even more. He never did like not getting his way. I smiled at his frustrated self then quickly felt bad for doing this to the guy I was practically in love with.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Stupid, stupid girl you are Adrianne!</i> I mentally scolded myself.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I let out a sigh and decided on a resolution. I would not give Blake any more reason to hate me, in fact I was going to try to make friends with him and then, maybe then, I could admit my feelings about him to soften the blow of his reaction which would most likely be rejection.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Low self-esteem, I know.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Feeling pumped up at the opportunity to make amends with him, I grinned triumphantly and gave more pep talks via my head.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">You can do this. You are Danielle Adrianne McAllister. You can do anything you set your mind to.</span></i></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Okay, </i>I thought putting on a smile. <i>I can do this.</i></span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">~ After 2 weeks ~</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I CANNOT DO THIS. NO freaking way.</span></i></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></i></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">This was the thought that kept repeating itself in my head as I did my best not to glare at the buffoon beside me. We were sitting in his living room STILL trying to find something for our project which was due next week. His parents were out for the night to go on a date and his little sister was at a sleepover at a friend's house.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Yup, we had the whole house to ourselves at the moment but if he wouldn't shut up soon, I'd be leaving an empty house.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I kept mumbling as I watched Blake laugh at my "stupidity". For the past week, he trashed every single idea I thought would benefit us in less than ten minutes flat. I had kept a plastered smile on my face for the last few minutes of trying to persuade him, but it was starting to crack as my anger seeped in. Again.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"If you don't like any of my ideas, let's see you come up with some yourself you prick!" I shouted at him finally breaking my promise to be nice.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Well, you should have inserted: If he was willing to try being friends too.</i> My brain argued.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Stupid brain who only thinks of answers after the dilemma or epiphany.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">His laughter died somewhat at my outburst and turned to face me still snickering.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Okay, I'll think of something that even YOU will love. In fact, you'll love it so much you'll start praising me for our perfect grade." He said smugly.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"What I wouldn't give to hit you in the face right now." I muttered as low as I could to myself.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Unfortunately, I didn't mutter it low enough that he could be rendered deaf.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"You don't mean that, Addie. Besides, you'd be hurting yourself if you hurt me." Once again, he was smug about it.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Right. Not." I said as I glared at him keeping whatever indication of a blush on a minimum.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">He looks so hot right now! Why oh why does he have to grow up to be exactly my type?</span></i></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></i></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">It's not fair for a guy to fit the "perfect" description!</span></i></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></i></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I quickly broke my glare as I turned to hide a blush escaping me. He stayed quiet for a while after my remark, so I took it as a good sign that he was hatching the perfect project in his head and peeked at him through my curtain like hair.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Bad move.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">He was deep in thought alright, just trying to make holes in my head and not about our project. His gaze traveled to my eyes and I flinched slightly. I hurriedly closed the curtain between me and him and gulped quietly.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>He has such intense eyes! So brown and deep.</i> I was taken by surprise at this comment but reluctantly agreed to it anyway. No use denying the obvious really.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Yeah, you could practically melt like chocolate under his gaze.</i> I groaned softly as I sorted out his features in my mind.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">He was tall and lanky, about 6" or taller making me seem short beside him and at 5"6 that seemed like an insult. He had brown hair, to complement his brown eyes and it was always messed up. Not that anybody was complaining of course, he made it look… meant for him. He was also in most of the AP honors classes. With these simple facts alone and of course, his parents' gorgeous genes, he could have been mistaken for a model.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">A smart, cute, funny, annoying, arrogant model. I hate beautiful people who got away with things they shouldn't. I groaned some more as I realized I had just contradicted myself.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Just when I was about to mentally scold myself again, I felt a prickling feeling at the back of my head and turned around only to be met by a stare from him.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"What?" I asked irritated hoping my voice wouldn't show how nervous I really was. Silence was thick as I waited for him to break it. When he finally did, I didn't know whether to be relieved or freaked out.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Let's do our project on make-up." He said.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I blinked a couple of times before finally looking at him calmly. Huh. Weird.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Make-up? As in, lipstick, mascara, eye-liner, the works?" I asked him slowly just to make sure.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Well, you're a girl. You should be happy about this kinda thing. And it's an idea."</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Because I'm a girl? What exactly are you trying to imply Blake?" I narrowed my eyes at him all the while praying he wouldn't go all chauvinist pig-like on me. That would destroy the dream of the perfect guy.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Girls love make-up. It's a way to hide things they don't want others to see." He said it so naturally and confidently that it took me a while to react i.e. leave my mouth slightly agape with horror at his statement.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">While that was the purpose of make-up to most of the world, it didn't help that I wanted to defend females who used it rarely and for the purpose to look appealing to people they were attracted to.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">So I'm a romantic, big deal.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Don't give that look. Not like you don't use any yourself." He scoffed at my expression and even dared to give a smirk.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">BAM!</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">He was visibly shocked at the fist coming in contact with the table but not as shocked as I was at the pain shooting up my arm but I dismissed it.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"That is it, Blake! I've had it with you! It's been 2 weeks and if I go for any longer, I'm going to snap!" I fumed at him taking a sadistic moment when I saw his lips turn downwards into a frown.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Whoa there Adrianne, you don't have to get that mad if it's true you know. I was just stating a fact." He said raising both eyebrows in an amused fashion.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">He had the <i>nerve</i> to be amused?</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I spluttered for a moment to find the words to make my anger understood in simple terms.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"You are being a total egomaniac and a typical chauvinist! Why do I even put up with you?" I spat at him and turned to leave but his hand found a way to my wrist and he held on even going as far as pulling me back near him. I struggled against his hold but gave up pretty soon.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"If this were a movie, this would be how any character leaves after getting pissed off." I said frustrated at his obvious strength (stupid male genetics) and finally turned to glare at him.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Sad to say, my glare died midway when he looked at me with his dark eyes all over again.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Emotions like confusion, and regret clouded his chocolate orbs but there was something else. Only I couldn't quite recognize it.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Come on Adrianne, you know I don't mean any harm." He told me as he did what I liked to call the kissing-up-using-charm tactic he used to get his way.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">In spite of his <i>somewhat</i> honest intentions, I was still me and the words escaped my mouth before I could regret them. To be honest, I was still recounting all the aggravating moments I had with him in all the time I knew him which only made me seethe even more.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Of course you don't Mr. Suave and I-can-get-what-I-want by manipulating people into thinking I'm nice."</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">He gave a shocked look at my words and then he looked upset, or mad, or well, whatever you prefer that is synonymous to angry.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I can be nice you know," I scoffed at this "it's just that you make everything so complicated. You're the problem too Adrianne. What are you PMS-ing?" he said almost ruefully.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"PMS-ing? Isn't that the international guy answer for everything? You are so stupid! I really don't know what possessed me to try to be nice to you when all you do is try to get a rise out of me." I shouted at him as I moved away from his grip which lessened considerably at my outburst.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I do not try to get a rise out of you Adrianne. You just find the smallest fault in every single thing I do, every freaking day!" He said angrily still trying to keep his calm but I could see that a couple of sentences more and he would burst into a frenzy like I had.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I don't try to get a rise out of you everyday! In fact I-" I stopped myself from going any further. He didn't need to know of my affection for him when we were in the middle of a fight like this. It just isn't done.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"You what? You try to get my attention? Puh-lease Adrianne. Don't try to say that. That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard of."</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I felt my cheeks go red and gave a look of horror and contempt at his last statement.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Lamest excuse you've ever heard of eh? So now I don't know how to like somebody." I said coldly but felt the prickling sensation in my eyes.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Adrianne, I don't mean it that wa-" I closed my eyes warily praying that my tears wouldn't fall. I turned to leave once more this time, grabbing all my things in a weird daze. Just as I was nearing the door, he blocked my path and I felt all patience run out of me. I guess you could say I snapped.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"You know what Blake? You're right. Trying to get your attention is a lame excuse, I mean, it's not like they're real feelings right?" He opened his mouth as his guilty face told me he was going to try to "apologize" but I cut him off.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I don't know what I ever saw in you. I've always watched you from the sidelines Blake; you know that because you do everything you can to get a reaction out of me whenever we're in the same room. It sucks to admit right now, but yeah, I like you. A lot." From his shocked expression, I could tell he didn't think he was right.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Too bad he was. And too bad I was on a roll too.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I've liked you since the first time in kindergarten when you sat in class, exactly three people away from me sleeping at the teacher's lesson. I still see you do it sometimes at school too. You looked so cute trying to keep your head up." I gave a mirthless laugh as I tried to continue, swallowing the last bit of my pride.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I liked you when I found out you were going out with Melanie Fletcher. I was so mad at you that week that I went as far as ignoring you. I couldn't keep it up though. Sucks to say I couldn't ignore you when you flaunted her everywhere you went. She acted like you guys were attached to the hip. This of course turned my crush on you into well hidden hate. I couldn't help it." I shrugged carelessly as he continued to stay in my path looking as mystified as ever at my confession.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I have no idea why I'm telling you all this right now," I paused in thought. "Actually, I do know. I want to get over you Blake Robinson. I want to tell you what I think I feel and then leave at least knowing that I did try my best.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"You have no right to call being a girl an excuse to like some things and all that. You didn't even have the right to call my crush on you a lame excuse because I don't think it is. Every fault you thought you had just gave me an excuse to call on you. To talk to you." I rubbed my temples as I willed myself to continue. I had gotten as far as this, I couldn't just stop mid-confession.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I'm being so pathetic right now. And this whole thing actually began when you suggested make-up. You're right. I do love the idea. I don't like the attitude you had to give to show you were right but there are some people who aren't shallow; people who just want to look attractive to those that they are attracted to.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I let out a sigh and focused my eyes on the door.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"I'm done making a fool out of myself, so I'll be going now." I told him tired after saying so much and still hurting so much. I made a motion to the door and held the knob when he called out my name.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Willing myself to not look back at him, I said as carelessly as I could over my shoulder,</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"We'll be doing the project in two ways then. I'll tell you which products I can do and then you do whatever you choose okay?"</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"After confessing to me, you won't even try to find out my reaction?" He said softly near my ear. I flinched clearly shocked that he was in such close proximity.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I wheeled around to face him and shocked myself again. In my dazed state, I didn't notice his hands on either side of my head keeping me in place. He was so close I could smell his scent.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">A lazy grin made its way to his face when he saw how uncomfortable I was. I didn't have the strength to be mad anymore so I just looked at him expectantly for the rejection. After a short while, he chuckled. I tilted my head in confusion and waited for an explanation. He had me stuck anyway, what else was there for me to lose besides my pride?</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"What are you laughing about?" I asked out of pure curiosity. I wanted this whole thing to be over with already and he was practically making it a suspense thing.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"This whole thing began when I suggested make-up." He said as if he was asking a question we both knew the answer of. I decided not to talk in case my words came out like they were constricted so I just nodded in consent.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Adrianne," I shivered but hid it quickly enough. "The only reason I suggested make-up was because you wore make-up too making the project easier to handle." He said calmly.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Frankly, I was exasperated at having to tell him twice or thrice for the day that I did not in fact wear any make-up but I felt compelled to tell him one last time before giving up and letting him say whatever he wanted.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Like I said before, I DO NOT WEAR MAKE-UP. Kindly get that through your head."</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">He pondered on this for a while and then looked at me with his eyes gleaming like crazy. Here I thought they were deep and emotional. Huh. Must be a feminine instinct to see something like that.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Really? I could have sworn I've seen you wearing blush-on, some mascara or whatever you call those eye thingies are and even some lipstick." He looked amused as he said this and I stared at him blankly trying to think back to the moment when I even <i>bought</i> make-up.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"You don't have to deny it Addie; you were trying to look good for people. I get it." He smirked after he said this and suddenly, things began clicking together.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">He was trying to get a rise out of me again. The sneaky little bastard. Not wanting to let him actually say that I did use make-up, I took his hand in mine and put it to my cheek.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Look closely. I have never used make-up, much less bought it. I'm not wearing any now, and I'm not going to be wearing any anytime in the near future." I tried to say in my least irritated voice as I also did my best not to glare at him.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">He gave a thoughtful look and thinking he finally got it, I put down his hand. Only, it remained on my face as he spoke.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"You're right. Your skin feels too smooth to have ever had make-up on it." My breathing hitched up a notch when he started making a circular motion on my cheek. It went up even more when his fingers brushed over my lips gently.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I did my best to get my heart and breathing to go back to normal afterwards but that was kind of hard when Blake's face came closer to mine.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I wanted to ask what he thought he was doing but all thoughts stopped when his lips met mine. I felt my eyes widen at frantic thought I was having: "Blake's kissing me!" Shortly after that though, I found myself kissing him back. The electricity that ran through me was exhilarating and I knew Blake was feeling it too.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">When we broke apart, we were both panting and gasping for some air. His arms still kept me in my place and supported my frame as my whole body turned into pudding. I shocked myself when I repeated the words in my head. Blake and I kissed.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I guess he took one look at my shocked face and decided now would be the best time to say something.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"You were always sort of dense Adrianne. I nearly drove myself crazy trying to get your attention and getting my ego bruised all the time, but I feel it's worth it now." He chuckled some more at my astonished expression. I felt I needed to voice out my thoughts so I did. Or at least, I tried to.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"You—but—I… This is so confusing." I said looking down when I finally realized that he felt the same way about me. It was great! Really, it was…only, I didn't know what to do next.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"So, uh…What now?" I asked feebly forgetting my last thoughts of exiting the house in a dramatic manner. I wanted to know where this was going and what would we be then.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">He grinned again and his eyes showed the same gleam it had before he kissed me.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Simple, we make out."</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">After another kiss, he decided to let me have some air.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"You know what? You may not put on any make-up and still look beautiful, but I love make-up anyway." He said unabashedly. I didn't really get it, so I asked why.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"If you weren't so insistent that you didn't wear any make-up, which I already knew by the way, I wouldn't have gotten the opportunity to kiss you like I've been dying to do since we were 12."</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">He kissed me so fast I didn't have the time to yell at him for taking advantage of the fact that I didn't wear make-up. Then again, I could always yell at him another time. After the make out session that is.</span></div>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-53171034919580955342011-11-15T23:39:00.000+08:002011-11-15T23:39:53.956+08:00Any Day Valentine<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmLIZZyusKaxG6LcGxA5F5z-_F21olcwMUPwWIjT_LkBMiFZ9mP5sfarEicMlHxT9fsnnj9V9WlYrF67-v3UHtZFJEk-5hXrNY4_2WdkL8vKGiE_yq8gNtRA91tMB3Mx7AnBOoGTUuWkmd/s1600/148259_1626347951551_1622117797_1452405_2822837_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmLIZZyusKaxG6LcGxA5F5z-_F21olcwMUPwWIjT_LkBMiFZ9mP5sfarEicMlHxT9fsnnj9V9WlYrF67-v3UHtZFJEk-5hXrNY4_2WdkL8vKGiE_yq8gNtRA91tMB3Mx7AnBOoGTUuWkmd/s640/148259_1626347951551_1622117797_1452405_2822837_n.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was taken during a wedding ceremony we were invited to :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
Parents. Being Asian, I have my very own traditional-ish parents.<br />
<br />
The one in the spotlight today, would have to be daddy dear :)<br />
<br />
My dad's the kind of man with a bit of a scary expression on his face even though he can be quite funny if he wants to be :)<br />
<br />
The reason why I'm posting this? Well..to remind people that parents are strange beings. Why you may ask?<br />
<br />
Because I had a convo with my parents during dinner a few hours ago asking if I could go to a friend's birthday party at the end of this week. My dad went into this walking around, thinking about the answer to this when for some reason my mom said that this was the birthday party of my best friend. The celebrant isn't my best friend, so to speak but we are very close friends.<br />
<br />
When my mom said this, my dad commented about how the celebrant wasn't my best friend because she didn't approve of my boyfriend (o.o but it doesn't stop there.) he further said that the celebrant was rooting for someone else. AND THEN my mom says something like, how does your papa know about that issue?<br />
<br />
What's completely insane is that it was like they BOTH knew. SO woah. Parents. I couldn't look them in the eye and I ran, literally for dear life to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Escape for a bit, and tried to calm myself even tho my head was exploding with questions like: HOW THE HECK DO THEY KNOW THAT??? O.O<br />
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HAHAHAHA. Anyways, that's not the only reason I'm posting this up. Because my dad said yes in the end, he's not only the best tho sneakiest dad I have the pleasure of having, he's also the dad who doesn't believe I need shoes, clothes or bags as a girl. Instead, he buys gadgets that for who knows why he thinks would make a girl overjoyed :)) But I guess that's where my love for photography comes in hehe :"><br />
<br />
I got some personality stuff from my mom, but I'm going to have to say I got her looks and the passion for experimenting in the kitchen. My first teacher, and the only person who still calls me Dai2 (childish nickname) and calls me in a baby voice like I'm two. It's not a problem when it's from her hehe :)<br />
<br />
AND, my dad, no matter how dorky he is at times has always been my favorite Valentine :) Any time, any where, pag meron, binibigyan talaga ako ng chocolates <3 Oh mama and papa, I <3 you! :*<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXW3dXJ2lz7r8Lh8ETemFbkyAQJmbtqwNfzW0jfpyaHMCVpKfCVGWGOb9MmtWdYWfczk3hDin0uSWBq2oaD8sCBxQj96Imvak2SRm83zYWaIQLP_pUhzDC91MYB_zcnNiTKGMKKy3FmfNv/s1600/_MG_9871+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXW3dXJ2lz7r8Lh8ETemFbkyAQJmbtqwNfzW0jfpyaHMCVpKfCVGWGOb9MmtWdYWfczk3hDin0uSWBq2oaD8sCBxQj96Imvak2SRm83zYWaIQLP_pUhzDC91MYB_zcnNiTKGMKKy3FmfNv/s640/_MG_9871+copy.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">one of the chocolates my dad bought for me when I asked for it haha.<br />
May chocolates of the month kasi yan sya, ito lang hingi ko :))</td></tr>
</tbody></table>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-51838863427536067562011-11-14T23:58:00.002+08:002011-11-14T23:58:57.058+08:00Because I suddenly remembered that I haven't tried this recipe out yet >.< but I will, SOON! haha<br />
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<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-PH;">BUTTERSCOTCH BARS</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-PH;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-PH;"><br />
<b>Ingredients</b>:<br />
<br />
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour<br />
2 1/2 teaspoons sifted baking powder<br />
1/2 teaspoon salt<br />
3/4 cup butter<br />
1/2 cup granulated white sugar<br />
2 cups dark brown sugar (spoon lightly into cup)<br />
3 whole eggs<br />
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract<br />
<br />
<b>Directions</b>:<br />
<br />
1. Preheat the oven to 350degF. Line an 8"x12"x2.5" pan with aluminum foil and set aside.<br />
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2. In a bowl, combine flour, baking powder and salt. Set aside.<br />
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3. Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the white and brown sugar and beat until blended. Add the eggs and vanilla and mix well.<br />
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4. Mix the flour using a rubber scraper. Beat until combined only. Do not overmix.<br />
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5. Transfer the batter to the prepared pan and bake for 45-55 minutes until toothpick inserted in all four corners come out dry. Do not wait for the center of the cookie to test clean.<br />
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6. Cool then cut into squares.</span></div>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-84124777958314569482011-11-14T23:35:00.000+08:002011-11-14T23:35:36.272+08:00teehee<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRGuj3Xwmvo4hJOvwMpT_2u47W3A6T5hm7Mc0b_RztrdBgLkQhqN-GUtPt8Mxum3uJIB24CdT_iXcQ56WvLdxTnn_DXaw8qwZ-c6PLD87cgTEAoygecnqFI-1EYhCqqU1WKha44ylCgwmj/s1600/minehands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRGuj3Xwmvo4hJOvwMpT_2u47W3A6T5hm7Mc0b_RztrdBgLkQhqN-GUtPt8Mxum3uJIB24CdT_iXcQ56WvLdxTnn_DXaw8qwZ-c6PLD87cgTEAoygecnqFI-1EYhCqqU1WKha44ylCgwmj/s400/minehands.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Because this is one of the only places I can post this without feeling judged :))) Ahhhh, the baller that I..misplaced :( How my wrist misses you >.< Ahhh, hand that always holds mine, I shall feel your warmth again :"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*no raining on my parade :))</div>it'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6905408590381636576.post-91645224193301573452011-11-14T00:31:00.001+08:002011-11-14T23:56:19.416+08:00Sembreak :)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDDnwi3K63o0CG6TXdwIaLwSzImoGm4p7Cn2YN5ok3P1FDZLD9eXp4zHv8FmAgfX-XTZVX-aoWV2g96FrxZ5gUsu9GvnRnEPxiX5MS7mWfY-3r0TFa0aV9hirK_fuE4zEQj45Q89HUCuPW/s1600/_MG_9548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDDnwi3K63o0CG6TXdwIaLwSzImoGm4p7Cn2YN5ok3P1FDZLD9eXp4zHv8FmAgfX-XTZVX-aoWV2g96FrxZ5gUsu9GvnRnEPxiX5MS7mWfY-3r0TFa0aV9hirK_fuE4zEQj45Q89HUCuPW/s640/_MG_9548.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
So we recently had our sembreaks and it wouldn't be fair not to post ANYTHING about what I did :)<br />
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Those 3 books up there? Yeah, accomplishment, as I read them in a total of 5 days continuously. I've gotten a little slow at reading tho so it wasn't as quick as my reads from when I was in highschool :\ but good enough haha.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_knyI1pMmzllRRWNSSeMyN2rL82_FO2JQst56c1b1kZmv07fTn9CdGnAKa0kraw68l5eQ6YerE_dSSvkhDHgUqLgqm6MOymS_jOQKNURrvAtxiFXGbiPXNh9qDmZP9y6_AGnVWrgx9rnP/s1600/IMG_9535.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_knyI1pMmzllRRWNSSeMyN2rL82_FO2JQst56c1b1kZmv07fTn9CdGnAKa0kraw68l5eQ6YerE_dSSvkhDHgUqLgqm6MOymS_jOQKNURrvAtxiFXGbiPXNh9qDmZP9y6_AGnVWrgx9rnP/s1600/IMG_9535.jpg" /></a></div>From the last book :) These books were by Scott Westerfeld :D and they were amazing :D<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOexYoUyGpeIU3HV31lKU3SnOKlYMRimArk_oJAAlpbFWL7kg_agkF_deaa5bzWcvHJ8XXFEi4cTbic_tUEaYDqvQ4apsXAj6u2pb4lV-jfjXlJlYsHtyrVJVEx7jInbZ_avvTL9rx7Wtr/s1600/IMG_9517.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOexYoUyGpeIU3HV31lKU3SnOKlYMRimArk_oJAAlpbFWL7kg_agkF_deaa5bzWcvHJ8XXFEi4cTbic_tUEaYDqvQ4apsXAj6u2pb4lV-jfjXlJlYsHtyrVJVEx7jInbZ_avvTL9rx7Wtr/s1600/IMG_9517.jpg" /></a></div>Other than reading of course, I also did a bit of cooking late at night with my sister :)) This is one of our more absurd days of hunger; we actually went ahead and made spaghetti :D Next time, it might be even better, CARBONARA :Dit'sMarionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16791337904175201820noreply@blogger.com0