<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:21:08.290-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pseudoleebieme</title><subtitle type='html'>living life as it is and just going with the flow...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1015868064600219228</id><published>2011-09-20T02:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T02:36:08.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Biting the Dust</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-20gR3ThlbxM/TnheBtVEdtI/AAAAAAAAALM/-mJ8Nt-vR1o/s1600/tumblr_l6w9ccOUUT1qzcham.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-20gR3ThlbxM/TnheBtVEdtI/AAAAAAAAALM/-mJ8Nt-vR1o/s320/tumblr_l6w9ccOUUT1qzcham.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654372715604506322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have suddenly become resentful of everything.  what bugs me is the realization that my life has been a string of cliches.  the memories of having done good to others seemed bleak, nonexistent.  but i guess all those do not really matter.  maybe it's about time to stop being so damn caring about everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in general i really am not happy with the way my life is going.  again, the happy memories are blurry.  what happened?  i seemed to be forever sinking.  i was never successful.  i was always an average person, not great at anything.  i've always struggled with everything - money, love, and what-not.  it's frustrating.  they said it's good to go down because there would be no way else to go but up.  but why does it seem to me that my life is nothing but a slow, agonizing plunge into the abyss?  i may see something to hold on for a while but then it would always be taken away from me - life is that cruel because it would always manage to take it away from my grasp no matter how i'd cling onto it.  it's crippling, desensitizing...it made me realize that i might just have to let myself get sucked down this hole...i'm way too tired to fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well i guess i just don't deserve to be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1015868064600219228?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1015868064600219228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1015868064600219228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1015868064600219228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1015868064600219228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2011/09/biting-dust.html' title='Biting the Dust'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-20gR3ThlbxM/TnheBtVEdtI/AAAAAAAAALM/-mJ8Nt-vR1o/s72-c/tumblr_l6w9ccOUUT1qzcham.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-7010977028971077485</id><published>2011-09-19T06:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T06:40:52.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jann Arden - Hanging By A Thread</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="459" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/uVfKSrB7IzM?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-7010977028971077485?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/7010977028971077485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=7010977028971077485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/7010977028971077485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/7010977028971077485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2011/09/jann-arden-hanging-by-thread.html' title='Jann Arden - Hanging By A Thread'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/uVfKSrB7IzM/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-2318726163874225629</id><published>2011-09-19T06:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T04:41:20.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At Dagger's Drawn...(Almost)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dtLCb7kuifM/TndFvqxIFuI/AAAAAAAAAKc/5Jmmkw_88ko/s1600/clear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dtLCb7kuifM/TndFvqxIFuI/AAAAAAAAAKc/5Jmmkw_88ko/s320/clear.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654064542423455458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always recognized that I have one of the lowest self esteems here on earth.  Reason(s) for this, I believe, had been mentioned in one of my prior blabs here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would just like to reiterate that being insecure is not something to be proud of, in fact, I’ve been wanting to get rid of this in my system for such a long time already.  Of course, there had been periods in my life where I can say that I was at my most confident – my “prime” so to speak, on the confidence level side.  I was fun to be with, always laughing, not having a care in the world, living a carefree life, albeit still knowing what my boundaries are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have allowed myself to be manipulated, controlled, treated like a doormat – name it – by people.  And I admit, up to now, I still sell myself short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have become a leech to some of my friends, sucking the life out of them.  I feel like I’m drowning them with my miseries.  Although I have apologized to them about this, I still feel guilty and feel bad because they too have their own difficulties and I feel inadequate to be the friend that they need me to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be passive – I just take it all in, will just say nothing even if I’ve been wanting to explode for a long time just to avoid conflicts or confrontations.  Somehow, I’m taking baby steps in learning how to voice out my opinions in the gentlest way possible so not to sound “opinionated” or narcissistic.  Of course, some people who are used to my passivity might still be “shocked” about this, at same time, pushing me back into my shell (that’s how I see it).  Like I said, baby steps – I’m still learning this thing.  Yet, I guess it’s inevitable that some people will just provoke you – knowingly or unknowingly – that it would seem like you’re walking the thin line between love and hate…and this scares me a lot because, when push comes to shove, I don’t know what I’d be capable of doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not know why I always have this urge of proving my self worth to everybody.  Does this make me KSP?  Really, it’s hard to explain…and nobody might understand where I’m coming from and might see me as someone who is carrying a lot of emotional baggage, a jaded person, pathetic, and all those crappy terms.  I don’t care anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am holding on to my faith, to my God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m holding on to the belief that I deserve to be loved and to be cared for as any other person, that I am a worthy person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I find myself hanging by a thread…I’ve been trying with all my might to hold on but now I’m getting exhausted and I feel I’m slowly losing my grip.  How can I hold on to something uncertain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I made the right decision?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-2318726163874225629?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/2318726163874225629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=2318726163874225629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/2318726163874225629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/2318726163874225629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2011/09/at.html' title='At Dagger&apos;s Drawn...(Almost)'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dtLCb7kuifM/TndFvqxIFuI/AAAAAAAAAKc/5Jmmkw_88ko/s72-c/clear.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-523803914504351588</id><published>2011-06-21T06:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T22:04:08.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE LUNATIC FIDDLER</title><content type='html'>They say, silence is golden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ba0TXy1S5SQ/TgCXCRjZo5I/AAAAAAAAAJs/EB3RHm1JVks/s1600/notalk.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ba0TXy1S5SQ/TgCXCRjZo5I/AAAAAAAAAJs/EB3RHm1JVks/s320/notalk.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620658400285795218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It isn’t always.  It is exasperating at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, keeping mum about some things is simply a better option to avoid hurting people especially if you knew they had been under the weather in an emotional kind of way (which makes you want to retort, “Hey, what about what I’VE been through?”)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, keeping it all bottled up – and you become quite good at it somehow.  Sure, it’s not healthy.  One might ask, “Then why?”  One, fear, as in you are scared – scared that if you voice out your opinion (especially about a very sensitive matter), that it would be taken the wrong way and you might offend the person (which is really NOT a very pleasant feeling, i.e., offending somebody).  Two, being labeled, a.k.a. being a nag or paranoid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps in silence, you would be asked what is wrong but you would just keep quiet and shake your head –though deep inside you are imploding.  You are almost always prompted to answer, “I don’t want to tell you what’s bothering me because every time I try to open my mouth, fear sets in because I might say the wrong words again that will make you feel bad…and then I’ll feel bad because in the end, the blame would be on me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reasoning would always fail you.  So then, to avoid further dispute, you keep quiet…and deflect.  It becomes your stance – when repelled, you counter-repel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence is not really an excuse.  We just don’t want to be labeled as someone who is nit-picking on everything or paranoid/lunatic or simply not just making an effort to understand the person.  If just by reiterating something (especially unintentionally) would make us sound like a nag, then what better way than to keep our mouth shut?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's either that or risk becoming the "kontrabida" or "negastar" in the person's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                   *******************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kkSpoNmTy0c/TgCicqs8VcI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/2Y7imWCcWcg/s1600/insecure.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kkSpoNmTy0c/TgCicqs8VcI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/2Y7imWCcWcg/s320/insecure.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620670948341208514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit, I am a very insecure person – and this is not something I am proud of.  I finally got to the bottom of it all, why all these insecurities.  I grew up being compared to somebody else, that blah is better than me, why don’t I follow blah’s footsteps…and not really hearing positive things about one’s appearance just only added insult to injury.  Then come adult life, being betrayed not only once is like putting salt into an open wound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it seems I’ve played the second fiddle over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the second, if not, third choice (sometimes not being one of the options at all) gave more blow to my self-esteem, ergo, I’ve always necessitated constant reassurance and the need for chronic appreciation is there too.  Every rejection induced a sense of being a total failure and had me suffer bouts of irrational jealousy.  Again, admitting all of these is not with great pride – I am deeply ashamed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I have accepted the Lord in my heart and in my life, I have learned that all these emotions are wrong.  Every person is equal in the eyes of the Almighty.  I am but just human and every now and then I still struggle with all of these negativity, and I know, with faith in Him, I will be able to move on and be brave enough to face all the rejections I would encounter in this lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope and pray my family and friends would be patient with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-523803914504351588?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/523803914504351588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=523803914504351588' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/523803914504351588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/523803914504351588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2011/06/lunatic-fiddler.html' title='THE LUNATIC FIDDLER'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ba0TXy1S5SQ/TgCXCRjZo5I/AAAAAAAAAJs/EB3RHm1JVks/s72-c/notalk.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-3422916845950009204</id><published>2011-05-21T07:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-21T08:01:16.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>my boylets</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oZdnAuRJPU0/TdfTo5VmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/p1sHYr30wMA/s1600/kuyaheadshot2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oZdnAuRJPU0/TdfTo5VmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/p1sHYr30wMA/s320/kuyaheadshot2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609184560452872082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lWlkO5W3iDk/TdfToql06cI/AAAAAAAAAJI/r7qAz3vpCpU/s1600/188670_198209870201525_100000375408882_584380_5434479_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lWlkO5W3iDk/TdfToql06cI/AAAAAAAAAJI/r7qAz3vpCpU/s320/188670_198209870201525_100000375408882_584380_5434479_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609184556494416322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-3422916845950009204?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/3422916845950009204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=3422916845950009204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3422916845950009204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3422916845950009204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-boylets.html' title='my boylets'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oZdnAuRJPU0/TdfTo5VmJ5I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/p1sHYr30wMA/s72-c/kuyaheadshot2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-4512812772999651849</id><published>2010-07-08T10:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-13T03:41:37.724-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE CURIOUS CASE OF BRATINELLO AND BRATINELLA</title><content type='html'>Since nobody is really reading this blog, it's not really important when I last wrote here, nobody cares anyway.  Still, I'd like to say that I haven’t really posted in a while partly because of the so-called blogger's block and partly because I wasn’t that INSPIRED anymore -- I guess, the muses have abandoned me.  Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always, the times where the itch to write was great, however, would come on unexpected situations or when I am lying in bed, trying my best to fall asleep.  My thoughts would be running around in circles, jumping from one topic to another (isn’t this scary?!) and I literally would become nauseous -- perhaps because my neurons, if any, are exhausted.  Eventually though, sleep would come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The latest "topic" that came to mind is about how our friends are not alike.  Of course obviously, they have different personalities and traits but still, they are your friends.  We have learned to treasure them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have friends that we could call our "&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;soulmates&lt;/span&gt;" because of being in sync with us at all times.  There are also the &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;sweet and thoughtful friends&lt;/span&gt; -- those who, regardless of not seeing/hearing from them for a while, are still the same old chums you used to know.  For instance, some of my high school and college friends --- they may have changed physically, but they were the same boys/girls you used to know.  We also have our &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;weird but lovable friends&lt;/span&gt; -- you have nothing in common with them, yet you "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;click&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we also have friends who seemed to have metamorphosed -- no, not into cute little butterflies, but into monsters of sorts.  Of course the cliché, "Only CHANGE is permanent in this world" comes to mind, and while that is true (and a perfect excuse), I have concluded that this metamorphosis has a common denomination:  OVERINDULGENCE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.k.a. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;the spoiled brats&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the ones who want to be treated like they are Mr./Ms. High and Mighty and yes, they are Mr./Ms. Perfect.  When you're friends with them, be afraid…Be very afraid.  If for them you are not an EQUAL, I assure you, you will be treated like crap.  If you're such a very unfortunate individual, you can also become their favorite pal to pick on.  This then will make you feel like crap too and then you adapt the habit of belittling yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will feel miniscule just like an amoeba floating in the toilet bowl --- amongst the shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah…SUPER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In spite of the fact that you have "served" them well, humbled yourself upon them, and apologized profusely when you know you are the one at fault, still these supposed friends of yours will never fail to make you feel so bad that your gut hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still you try…and try…and try harder and harder…all to no avail.  Perhaps it is easier for them to ignore you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admittedly, we have chosen them to be a part of our lives; yet we also have a choice to let them go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why prolong the agony?  You should not be somebody's beck and call.  The minute this realization sinks in, you should run.  FAST.  Never look back.  These people are not worthy of you.  It is a waste of time and energy pleasing these people.  Do not overburden yourself with them.  Instead, prioritize your other friends -- those who really truly care for you and love and accept you and most of all, RESPECT you for who you are, albeit the arguments and fights, big or small, that you have with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This friendship is long past its expiration date.  Don’t stay just out of habit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time to cut them loose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-4512812772999651849?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/4512812772999651849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=4512812772999651849' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4512812772999651849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4512812772999651849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2010/07/curious-case-of-bratinello-and.html' title='THE CURIOUS CASE OF BRATINELLO AND BRATINELLA'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1978245665394970233</id><published>2009-08-04T11:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T11:49:08.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SURREAL</title><content type='html'>i was still&lt;br /&gt;i was quiet..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then you came&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you crept into the night&lt;br /&gt;i was taken aback&lt;br /&gt;shuddering..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you took me in your arms&lt;br /&gt;lulling me to sleep..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i awoke..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;darkness ceased&lt;br /&gt;denoting the coming of dawn..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was suddenly cold and breathing frost..&lt;br /&gt;the warmth was gone..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alas, you were all but a dream...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1978245665394970233?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1978245665394970233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1978245665394970233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1978245665394970233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1978245665394970233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2009/08/surreal.html' title='SURREAL'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1368779939280530503</id><published>2009-08-04T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T08:30:33.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OH WELL...</title><content type='html'>I really miss blogging. Yet here i am, again, at a loss for words.  I've been trying to wrack my brain for something to write about these past several months. Maybe i've become lazy also and may just be making an excuse for not having been able to write. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... As of the moment, i am multitasking - working (editing) and blogging.  How come, you would ask... Well, i guess, though i still don't have any idea of what to write here, i've got this intense urge to still jot down perhaps just a few sentences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing is for sure, i'd say that i'm quite a stubborn person.  I've recently experienced another (yes, another one) stupidity wherein i don't have to wait for my friends' wagging fingers while saying, "tsk, tsk...i told you so!" because all i have to do is look in the mirror and say that to myself - of course, with matching slapping of the forehead drama.  Oh well, i guess i haven't learned that's all.  I still want to believe that in every person's rude/aggressive exterior lies a good heart, somehow, lurking inside, just waiting to be tapped.  Of course, being the dramatic person that i am, i've always wanted to be the "heroine" who would be able to make the "good" person come out.  Alas, i've failed... Again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blimey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1368779939280530503?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1368779939280530503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1368779939280530503' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1368779939280530503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1368779939280530503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2009/08/oh-well.html' title='OH WELL...'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-7758342459463255874</id><published>2009-06-16T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T07:36:15.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parenting Part II</title><content type='html'>School days are here once again.  Every parent is caught in the frenzy - buying of school supplies, wrapping of notebooks and textbooks, and then constantly checking the kids' homework, projects, activities etc.  I don't get to do all of those since i have other family members in the house, so lucky for me.  However, when they have activities, i see to it that i am the one who is there (unless my kid fails to notify me - which happened - and the guilt is really consuming).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still not very confident with my parenting skills.  I just hope they know and are aware that I am trying my best.  I am not a perfect parent, of course I too have flaws, but still, I am trying really hard to be the best parent to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-7758342459463255874?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/7758342459463255874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=7758342459463255874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/7758342459463255874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/7758342459463255874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2009/06/parenting-part-ii.html' title='Parenting Part II'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-4949385541550828770</id><published>2009-05-08T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-21T07:53:19.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SO DANG CONFUSING</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SgR4HkL8BUI/AAAAAAAAAHo/7xIjfyCyxFw/s1600-h/Confusing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 314px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SgR4HkL8BUI/AAAAAAAAAHo/7xIjfyCyxFw/s320/Confusing.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333519930081674562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So friggin' frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Struggling to understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not even worth it, yet, here I am…again…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it that I still don’t know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to understand…I might be missing something here…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But of course honesty is overrated…nevertheless, just a teeny weeny bit wouldn’t hurt, would it?  Just to make room for more understanding…and knowledge…as such, mistakes or misconceptions won't be made again…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either I'm that dense or just plain freakin' dumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT THE??!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-4949385541550828770?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/4949385541550828770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=4949385541550828770' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4949385541550828770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4949385541550828770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2009/05/fckin-confusing.html' title='SO DANG CONFUSING'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SgR4HkL8BUI/AAAAAAAAAHo/7xIjfyCyxFw/s72-c/Confusing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-3693105361318299578</id><published>2009-05-07T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T14:38:12.709-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CEREBRAL CORROSION</title><content type='html'>I just couldn’t get over the fact that I haven’t been writing something here.  I've been putting off most things the past few months.  Yeah, of course I noticed.  There had been moments where I would have this gripping desire of jotting down thoughts or emotions, even through using my mobile phone, but then again I would end up getting lazy and again putting it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like my brain cells are getting rustier by the minute.  I mostly couldn’t think of things to write about -- those "moments" I mentioned earlier are quite rare.  It's really kind of pretty scary as I love writing.  I don’t want to blame it on the so-called "writer's block" because I'm not really that one helluva writer so if I use that, it would be a lame, pathetic excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno.  I feel senseless, witless, dull…I guess my neurons are not that quick anymore.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now please allow me to borrow Jessica Zafra's line:  "I think I should get a lobotomy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm back into my "bad" ways…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy crap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-3693105361318299578?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/3693105361318299578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=3693105361318299578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3693105361318299578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3693105361318299578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2009/05/cerebral-corrosion.html' title='CEREBRAL CORROSION'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-2325684806752489995</id><published>2009-03-14T03:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T03:39:38.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fallen One</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SbuJYJ8XD_I/AAAAAAAAAHg/laqfqLF0NnU/s1600-h/SexyBlackWingedAngel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 307px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SbuJYJ8XD_I/AAAAAAAAAHg/laqfqLF0NnU/s320/SexyBlackWingedAngel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312991233492586482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-2325684806752489995?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/2325684806752489995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=2325684806752489995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/2325684806752489995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/2325684806752489995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2009/03/fallen-one.html' title='The Fallen One'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SbuJYJ8XD_I/AAAAAAAAAHg/laqfqLF0NnU/s72-c/SexyBlackWingedAngel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-3294292425251008499</id><published>2009-03-14T03:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T03:28:39.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A LITTLE RANT</title><content type='html'>Yeah, yeah..So it's been a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm friggin' bored.  And I'm effin' pissed.  I want to go to the beach.  I want to travel.  I want to go on sabbatical.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But guess what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I COULDN'T AFFORD THESE THINGS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, i know, such negativity huh?  But i'm just being honest.  I barely have money left every payday - almost everything goes to bills and debts to pay.  Add to that what little I've been producing and of course, little production equals little salary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I barely have a social life, let alone a fun life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that's why I am such a negative Nancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sue me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-3294292425251008499?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/3294292425251008499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=3294292425251008499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3294292425251008499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3294292425251008499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2009/03/little-rant.html' title='A LITTLE RANT'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1568917042264339445</id><published>2009-02-20T05:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T01:40:12.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'>APOLOGIZE</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/O8O3uXb_NGI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/O8O3uXb_NGI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm holding on your rope&lt;br /&gt;Got me ten feet off the ground&lt;br /&gt;And I'm hearing what you say&lt;br /&gt;But I just can't make a sound&lt;br /&gt;You tell me that you need me&lt;br /&gt;Then you go and cut me down&lt;br /&gt;Wait...&lt;br /&gt;You tell me that you're sorry&lt;br /&gt;Didn't think I'd turn around and say..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That it's too late to apologize, it's too late&lt;br /&gt;I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd take another chance, take a fall, take a shot for you&lt;br /&gt;And I need you like a heart needs a beat&lt;br /&gt;(But that's nothing new)&lt;br /&gt;Yeah yeah&lt;br /&gt;I loved you with a fire red, now it's turning blue&lt;br /&gt;And you say&lt;br /&gt;Sorry like the Angel Heaven let me think was you,&lt;br /&gt;But now I'm afraid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too late to apologize, it's too late&lt;br /&gt;I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late&lt;br /&gt;Woahooo woah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too late to apologize, it's too late&lt;br /&gt;I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late&lt;br /&gt;I said it's too late to apologize, yeah yeah&lt;br /&gt;I said it's too late to apologize, a yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm holding on your rope&lt;br /&gt;Got me ten feet off the ground...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1568917042264339445?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1568917042264339445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1568917042264339445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1568917042264339445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1568917042264339445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2009/02/apologize.html' title='APOLOGIZE'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1362523225059905651</id><published>2009-02-16T03:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T03:35:08.467-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BOO-FREAKIN'-HOO</title><content type='html'>This blog has taken a back burner since last month.  There are times that I would want to write something but then another more important matter would come up so I'd end up forgetting the whole writing thing altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's February now.  Besides Valentine's day, things had happened to me - physically.  No, I didn't transform into a more radiant being nor did I become a black-winged monster, but I got sick - twice to be exact.  The first one was during the first week of the month.  I had a bout of tonsillitis and of course, tonsillitis equals fever.  So I suffered for four days.  I treated it with pain relievers and mostly conservative treatment - meaning lots of fluids.  I didn’t get the rest I really wanted but I tried to take a nap in between work.  So then I got better.  I celebrated my being tonsillitis-free with tequila - two bottles of tequila, that is.  Of course, it wasn’t all me, my brother was there along with two close friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following week, I got an ear infection.  See, I got this habit of constantly cleaning my ears - sometimes I'd do it three times a day.  I know, I know.  My bad huh?  But I can't help it, I swear.  So there you go - otitis externa.  Imagine my dilemma, I do listening for a living.  I had to listen to dictations using one ear.  And by golly, the pain! It's just so friggin unbearable!  Of course, I took mefenamic acid then NSAIDs (non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs) and had otic drops, but really, I just couldn’t take it - mind you, I consider myself to have a high pain tolerance.  There was this one moment, while working in the wee hours of the morning, that I decided to take one capsule of mefenamic acid then a nap to help maybe ease the pain.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a shut-eye because of the damn pain.  And I ended up crying.  Boo-hoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody was telling me to go to the doctor (even my mom called) and I keep on telling them that I would.  I was even at home on Valentine's day instead of celebrating out because of this infection.  I cried buckets of tears - yes, I admit because it's V-Day and because of intolerable pain.  (Oh, my brother and cousin-in-law both gave me roses so I cried - again.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My youngest son gave me a Valentine card in advance with our picture in it so just thinking about it that day also gave me the sniffles.  Then, my eldest, who is supposedly the sweeter one, forgot to greet me or say the usual "I love u" routine.  Boo-hoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was today that I'm supposed to get my ear checked up.  But I'm feeling better already.  I can hear a little clearly now and there is little, if any, pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. - I sent this text message to a friend during V-Day.  I actually got it from the web and changed it a little bit.  Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Never say "I love you" if you don’t care.&lt;br /&gt;Never talk about feelings if they're not there.&lt;br /&gt;Never touch a life if you mean to break a heart.&lt;br /&gt;The cruelest thing to do is to let someone fall in love with you when you don’t intend to catch that someone fall.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yun na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another friend said Valentine's day is also known as "Single Awareness Day" which of course has the acronym SAD.  No pun intended.  Cool!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1362523225059905651?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1362523225059905651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1362523225059905651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1362523225059905651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1362523225059905651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2009/02/boo-freakin-hoo.html' title='BOO-FREAKIN&apos;-HOO'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-7526835173202294173</id><published>2009-01-10T12:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T09:41:25.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOST - Michael Bublé</title><content type='html'>I just love this song...very inspiring *sigh*...(I'd imagine as if Michael Bublé, is singing this for me hihihihi!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.mtvnservices.com/mgid:uma:video:mtv.com:213579" width="512" height="319" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashVars="configParams=vid%3D213579%26uri%3Dmgid%3Auma%3Avideo%3Amtv.com%3A213579%26startUri={startUri}" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" base="."&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="margin:0;text-align:center;width:500px;font-family:Arial,sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/artist/buble_michael/artist.jhtml" style="color:#439CD8;" target="_blank"&gt;Michael Bublé&lt;/a&gt; - &lt;a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/" style="color:#439CD8;" target="_blank"&gt;New Music&lt;/a&gt; - &lt;a href="http://www.mtv.com/music/video/" style="color:#439CD8;" target="_blank"&gt;More Music Videos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-7526835173202294173?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/7526835173202294173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=7526835173202294173' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/7526835173202294173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/7526835173202294173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2009/01/lost-michael-buble.html' title='LOST - Michael Bublé'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-5470587363940977786</id><published>2009-01-10T10:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T03:58:24.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2008 - THE WHOLE NINE YARDS...</title><content type='html'>It's been a long time since i've visited and written here.  I was really planning on writing last December, at least before 2008 ended, however, I just didn't have time to do so.  I've been wanting to write about things (recent or not) that have happened to me last year.  Generally speaking, it was a good year for me, not excellent, but pretty good.  Naturally, mistakes had been made, as always - i am but a mere mortal.  Things got lost and found.  Places visited and re-visited and people discovered and re-discovered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see.  I went to Puerto Galera (for the first time, courtesy of my beloved cousin, Gina) on Valentine's day (Yeah!) and revisited Baguio after 9 years (yipee!).  I also revisited lovely Sorsogon twice. I was able to go to the "sosyal" Embassy Superclub (courtesy of my cousin's cousin-in-law), free of charge at that.  Cool huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was scheduled to go to Dubai, underwent a series of medical tests, unfortunately, the employer turned me down the last minute (after spending dineros for the requirements - and yes, i am perfectly healthy) because apparently they wanted someone who could work for them ASAP.  Oh well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mid-year, career transition, the bosses gave me a PC (my personal old one was not usable anymore), applied for internet connection, so I could work from home thus giving me much more time with the kids (and creating this blog). Definitely!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Financially, I did okay until mid-year, but quite downsloped towards the end of the year. Credit card and other bills - all that jazz.  A "friend" asked for a loan through my mom - the first one was okay - she made the scheduled payments - then asked for a second loan.  That was when things went bad - paid only half and made promises to settle.  But she didnt.  I based everything on trust and friendship.  You know what happened next.  I never heard from her again.  This means, I'll be the one paying for it. (By the way, this is the second time a friend borrowed money from me - and yes, i never learned... sh!t).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kids got theater, streetdance and badminton lessons.  What can I say, i've got talented sons!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My very generous cousin (Gina) bought me a sofa and a bed. Yey!  Unfortunately, our TV and washing machine broke (the washing machine was rescued, the TV, nope), and then i lost my cellphone.  Dammit - I have my Metallica song collection there, dammit, dammit..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come December, i received a new cellphone and Gina bought a laptop for me - which i would be paying for the whole year of 2009 - not bad huh?  Now, i'd be able to work even if i'm away from home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother visited us here in Manila and met our African-American neighbor and his Filipina wife.  They offered us red wine and champagne.  And then my mother got drunk.  It was really funny seeing my mom throw up!  But she had a great time, that i can tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I resolved to go back to attending Sunday masses just this last December.  Feels really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A long lost cousin was found - we had a reunion of sorts post-Christmas.  It went great.  His father (whom he hasnt seen for a couple of years) came (and cried) and another uncle - the one the nieces and nephews considered to be the strictest and most conservative - also arrived...and he let his hair down.  Finally!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, not bad huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-5470587363940977786?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/5470587363940977786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=5470587363940977786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5470587363940977786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5470587363940977786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2009/01/2008-whole-nine-yards.html' title='2008 - THE WHOLE NINE YARDS...'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-7093548501098557708</id><published>2008-11-17T12:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T12:03:50.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Honesty and Movies</title><content type='html'>It’s really amusing how we associate our lives with the movie/soap opera characters.  As much as I hate to admit it, I do that, sometimes – no, most of the time.  Not that my life is so dramatic – gosh no.  The story of my life is a combination of sorts – drama, comedy, suspense, a bit of action, and “strictly prohibited”/R-18.  Generally though, I’d say it’s a DRAMEDY.  When I watch movies/soaps, I’d usually find myself identifying with one or a few of the characters, even sometimes insisting upon myself that that really is ME.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(It might not really be worth mentioning as it’s kinda off topic but I would anyway…I have another “therapy” whenever I feel temporarily insane and I’m in my emotera mode.  I’d watch a movie that’s so dramatic and romantic until I’d develop a lump in my throat till ultimately my tear ducts couldn’t take it anymore that I’d be bawling like mad, after which, I’d be okay.  I’d be in a lighter mood albeit the eye puffiness and eye bags and red nose.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, there’s just one thing in dramatic movies/soaps that bugs me --- everybody’s so freakin’ honest and would tell the truth in one way or another!  I mean, of course I believe that honesty is the best policy and all that, but come on, in real life, nobody is that truthful anymore.  Everybody’s got skeletons in their closets and most people choose their dirt to be kept hidden especially if they feel that the truth will only hurt other people particularly the ones they love.  I’d say honesty is overrated.  I believe that some things are better left alone and unsaid and buried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well…if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been dying to have a glass of red wine (the current soap I’m addicted to has a lot of wine drinking scenes) so I guess I’ll have one now.  Yup, I have red wine in my cupboard.  Oh yeah.  Sweet huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want some?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-7093548501098557708?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/7093548501098557708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=7093548501098557708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/7093548501098557708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/7093548501098557708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/11/honesty-and-movies.html' title='Honesty and Movies'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-4131447493724526278</id><published>2008-11-10T08:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T08:20:50.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PARENTING</title><content type='html'>One of my biggest fears --- that I’ll fail as a parent.  I thought before that once you show your children how much you love them, everything will just fall into places – you and your children will just blend in with each other.  I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parenthood is a tough experience (a really tough one at that) especially as your children grow older.  Even if you’ll learn from them as they from you, still, it’s a job, be it part time or full time.  Like a job, there are both fulfillments and frustrations.  You learn, you cope, adapt, and then apply what you learned.  Being a parent is never an easy job – from changing diapers to giving and applying the rules.  I have always believed that one should not stay strictly a parent, but must be a friend also.  But not every child acts and reacts the same – that’s a fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve become quite paranoid especially now that I have a teenager in my hands.  I get frustrated particularly if I feel I’m not doing anything right.  Lately I found myself browsing on parents’ forums in the hopes of getting some tips whenever I’m faced with a teenager crisis.  In all fairness to my teenage son, he’s not the typical teenager with all that angst.  It’s just that he’s been going through a different phase in his life, and I’m really trying very hard to gain his trust and vice versa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh God, it’s taxing, really.  Like every parent, all I can hope and pray for is that I’ll be given more strength, patience, and sanity.  Of course, I’m still on the trial and error stage so it’s quite tricky.  I just hope I’ll do well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-4131447493724526278?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/4131447493724526278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=4131447493724526278' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4131447493724526278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4131447493724526278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/11/parenting.html' title='PARENTING'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-726899592888581026</id><published>2008-11-04T22:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T12:07:52.922-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BITCHING</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.imagechef.com/" target="_blank"&gt; &lt;img src="http://cdn-img1.imagechef.com/w/081104/sampa17a4644044f303e.jpg" alt="ImageChef.com - Custom comment codes for MySpace, Hi5, Friendster and more"/&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.4NXC/bHQ9MTIyNTg2NDYzNjk1MyZwdD*xMjI1ODY*ODk2Nzk2JnA9MTE5MzEmZD1zdGFuZGFyZCZuPWJsb2dnZXImZz*xJnQ9Jm89OGE5NTMwYzYxZDgxNDliZjlmMDQzN2M2NDdmYjQ3ZDA=.gif" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's such a tedious thing to find ways so as not to look back but just move forth.  All this babbling here makes me feel like a stupid baboon since I'm just writing the same litany of agonies - hence, I sound redundant already.  My subconscious tells me that I shouldn't worry too much about this (er, what I write) as there's really nobody reading this blog anyway (yeah sure, I announce that I have a blog, but see, nobody even comments for crying out loud!)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess I could go on and on huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just so freakin' tired.  Really.  I really am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish it's that easy to do the "bugger-off-next-please!" regimen, but hell... easier said than done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, the pains of living...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes me wonder though...do I always make it easy for people to take the U-turn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I really wish I could get a comment from this...As if...Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. - Should someone accidentally stumble upon this blog and wanted to comment, please, by all means, go ahead and feel free to do so...or e-mail me at &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;ooshposh@yahoo.com&lt;/span&gt;...I swear, I won't bite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-726899592888581026?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/726899592888581026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=726899592888581026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/726899592888581026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/726899592888581026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/11/bitching.html' title='BITCHING'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-3631729395837572435</id><published>2008-10-16T03:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T22:22:19.365-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ENIGMA</title><content type='html'>Perplexed…Mesmerized…&lt;br /&gt;It's freaking me out, just had to cry…&lt;br /&gt;Where have you been?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dew drops felt&lt;br /&gt;Cold mist seen&lt;br /&gt;My sight is foggy&lt;br /&gt;But still…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Myths of passing love echoes in vain&lt;br /&gt;A weeping voice heard in the depth of the night…mine…&lt;br /&gt;My heart is bathed in darkness…&lt;br /&gt;And I am parched…&lt;br /&gt;Breathless…terrified…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beauty of sadness is much too blinding&lt;br /&gt;And lightning strikes my severed soul&lt;br /&gt;I fled…I bled…I fell…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;-ooshposh-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-3631729395837572435?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/3631729395837572435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=3631729395837572435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3631729395837572435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3631729395837572435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/10/enigma.html' title='ENIGMA'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-4782130883289931353</id><published>2008-10-12T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T11:38:43.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WHO?! ME?!</title><content type='html'>I’m usually a cheerful, carefree person.  My friends would say I don’t get infuriated (though I’m sure my housemates would disagree hahaha)… I would say I rarely get mad, I would oftentimes shrug things off and  I admit that I always see the goodness in each person’s heart albeit the pain/hurt he/she caused me, ergo to the point of naivete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other side of me that only a few (close) chums know is that if I’m in pain emotionally, I’d be physically hyperactive – with constant movements/exaggerated fidgeting – and when the person who had caused such abnormality in my emotional immune system is within range, I’d be blabbering like a mad(wo)man, try to be funny, and kid around.  I guess obviously, the reason for such act is that this my defense mechanism of sorts just as much as a cover-up to my effin’ bleedin’ heart.  In my solitude though, I’d be a tad teary eyed (but tears rarely fall as I’ve developed a technique for such which requires years of practice and perfection) and I’d be in my “emotera” mode and do the following – not necessarily in this order:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(a) Play Metallica (the Black album) in the background while clean either the whole house or my CR – depends how depressed I am and how much water there is;&lt;br /&gt;(b) Sometimes I run amuck;&lt;br /&gt;(c) I chide or curse myself aloud for yet another stupidity;&lt;br /&gt;(d) Look at myself in the mirror – and smirk;&lt;br /&gt;(e) Succumb to a staring spell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, I WALLOW…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the psychology/psychiatry nerds would really be exhilarated to meet me as they’d be able to come up with a lot of diagnoses – neurosis, bipolar disorder, schizoid, blah, blah…I really don’t care, as long as I do these weird things alone, I’d be able to put up a brave front as soon as I am with the outside world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretentious?  Nah.  Showbiz! Hahahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In lieu of this, my best friend set an  “expiry date” for my whines and emotera swings – he says those moments should be at least 3 months apart.  He also said that if we see each other, he’d uproot my heart and put it in my head, swap the brain in place.  That way, he says, I’d use my brain more rather than my cardiovascular system…or I might die of a broken heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Triple *sigh*… Gademit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-4782130883289931353?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/4782130883289931353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=4782130883289931353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4782130883289931353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4782130883289931353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/10/who-me.html' title='WHO?! ME?!'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-3992063570019845091</id><published>2008-10-06T12:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T03:46:26.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I AM...</title><content type='html'>Exhausted…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of the people who disparaged me…&lt;br /&gt;judged me…&lt;br /&gt;lied and misled me…&lt;br /&gt;made a fool out of me…&lt;br /&gt;took advantage of me…&lt;br /&gt;betrayed me…&lt;br /&gt;hurt me…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  yet…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wistful…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for you to ratify my genuine individuality – wholeheartedly, no ifs or buts…&lt;br /&gt;for you to dry the tears in my eyes…&lt;br /&gt;for you to attest to the universe that you are proud of me…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grateful…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for the courage and strength that I gained…&lt;br /&gt;for the entelechy dawning upon my once darkened horizon…&lt;br /&gt;for family and friends who stood by me…&lt;br /&gt;for my wonderful children who never cease to inspire me…&lt;br /&gt;for the 32 years of bittersweet journey of self discovery and learning…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blissful…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because the Almighty has never failed me…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;-ooshposh-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-3992063570019845091?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/3992063570019845091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=3992063570019845091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3992063570019845091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3992063570019845091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-am.html' title='I AM...'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1320806482347214674</id><published>2008-10-01T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T12:25:45.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ALMOST LOVER - Part 3</title><content type='html'>To CW: &lt;strong&gt;May fate be kind to you...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EDEEzS7OV2k&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EDEEzS7OV2k&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1320806482347214674?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1320806482347214674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1320806482347214674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1320806482347214674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1320806482347214674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/10/almost-lover-part-3-to-cw-may-fate-be.html' title='ALMOST LOVER - Part 3'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-5516775326087472943</id><published>2008-10-01T11:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T11:29:43.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ALMOST LOVER - Part 2</title><content type='html'>PR#2:  A year and half passed.  One day, CW was invited to a christening of an officemate's baby.  There she met Knightrider or KR for short.  Both of them are godparents.  KR is very, very good looking with a snobbish attitude - she says, "a man with an Oooooohhmmpp." (I'm guessing he's got a great bod too because of the latter description.)  Naturally, CW immediately took notice of him but just shook herself back to reality as (a) she knows he wouldn’t take a second look at her, and (b) he was with his fiancée (my friend saw the ring on the woman he was cuddly with).  Admittedly, she caught KR staring at her, in a more calculating way, but she was quite oblivious about it because of the aforementioned reasons.  Reception came, and fate, really, as I would always say, has sometimes a weird sense of humor - she was assigned at the same table with gorgeous KR along with other (mutual - as it turned out) friends, thus, they were introduced to each other.  His fiancée, by the way, left immediately after the blessing and prayers were made.  They managed to get into a conversation and all the while CW tried really hard, with all her might, not to act like a hormone-driven teenager around him.  So, he got her number, she got his.  Soon they were constant "textmates" and would even send senseless one-word messages, even punctuation marks.  CW also saw this as another opportunity of getting over VV.  Yes, KR might be a rebound of sorts, but for her, if it would help moving forward, she ought to try it.  She and KR would meet once in a while and ostensibly, CW found herself feeling euphoric just being with him (even while relating all this to me, she inserts a lot of giggles in her sentences - sigh).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, another year has passed…KR barely texts her anymore when they're not together (oh, I forgot to mention earlier, KR is a serial player - he admitted it to CW herself).  Now, my friend wonders and the thought persists, what do they have?  Naturally, she also threw the same question at me…I asked her if she has feelings for KR.  She goes, "Not really" and I somehow managed a stifled "huh?"  I am flabbergasted honestly.  I told her the brutal truth, that she is in a moronic cycle, but if it makes her happy, I'd totally give her my blessing.  My advice?  She should just enjoy the moments they're together, and most importantly, if she can help it, not to fall for KR, or else….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOMAYGAD…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-5516775326087472943?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/5516775326087472943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=5516775326087472943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5516775326087472943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5516775326087472943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/10/almost-lover-part-2.html' title='ALMOST LOVER - Part 2'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-4909981622028678625</id><published>2008-10-01T11:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T12:21:40.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ALMOST LOVER - Part 1</title><content type='html'>A very good friend from elementary days asked, nay pleaded, to meet with me.  Let's call her CW for Catwoman.  "I have a big problem," she says.  And so we decided to meet up, have dinner, and then coffee afterwards.  I can sum up her problem in one word - PSEUDORELATIONSHIP(S) - a relationship without clarity, open-ended, hanging…the funny (or sad) part is this is her second one.  So I sat there, gawking at her and had to restrain myself from strangling her.  See, CW is still in the mends - in other words, she's been quite bruised and jaded because of a failed relationship - and yet, here she goes again so you can't blame me for almost wanting to scream "WTF?!?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, she debriefed me of what has happened for the last several years - as we haven’t seen each other in like ages albeit keeping in touch once in a while.  So a quick history…Her first pseudorelationship, PR#1, was with a very charming, BUT married guy - let's call him Voltes V or VV for short.  They were friends from college who eventually got closer as they shared the same interests, and both of them are "makulit" and "malambing" (some are quite opinionated and blurted out that they are "soulmates").  At the onset of their growing friendship, they had this agreement of sorts that neither should FALL for the other.  Oh yeah, they fooled around big time and discovered yet another thing - that they are sexually compatible.  And so things went on and were status quo for about a year or two.  Until CW began to feel spaced-out around him - she would get secretly jealous with every girl VV showers his charms on, and boy was she scared!  A voice in her head was chiding her, constantly nagging her of the pact they made.  However, the time came when she decided to acknowledge that, yeah, she was hooked.  Apparently, VV took notice and naturally, he asked.  She had to give him the "to-hell-with-the-consequences-I'm-gonna-tell-you-how-I-feel" attitude…She cursed herself but nonetheless decided that if he bails out on her, so be it, an open-and-shut case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, CW was taken aback by his reaction and it was a complete shock to her.  He seemed to be okay with it and just shrugged it off - he didn’t run away!  In fact, he was even sweeter in the days to come.  According to her, VV was level headed, they would have conversations about whatever it is they "have" and promising nothing - which of course is the right thing to do.  Unfortunately for CW, she would have her "gaga" moments (I wouldn’t blame her as we all have those moments whether we like it or not).  Anyhow, the time had come for VV to migrate to Ireland and CW saw this as an omen of sorts that it's time to let go - though at the back of her mind, she knows she couldn’t.  When VV left, my friend cried buckets of tears (it was those times pala that her texts are depressing) and was really, really hanging on.  Both of them kept in touch ergo making it harder for her to move on.  VV was still not promising anything nor would he tell her he loved her (DUH?!) and dear CW was okay with that - and hung on…A few years passed until their e-mails became less frequent.  She used to e-mail him as frequently as she can, but his replies were often delayed.  She also found out something he did when they were on the fooling-around stages (which, when later asked about it he vehemently denied).  It hurt her so she gathered up enough courage and had her resolve that indeed, it might be time to move on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-4909981622028678625?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/4909981622028678625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=4909981622028678625' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4909981622028678625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4909981622028678625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/10/almost-lover-part-1.html' title='ALMOST LOVER - Part 1'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-8807315525694282057</id><published>2008-09-11T03:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T21:58:36.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HIGH SCHOOL LIFE...</title><content type='html'>I saw a recent photograph of my high school buddies.  A lot has changed but seeing them brought back certain insecurities.  I decided to drop a few lines to one of them through Friendster - I always see her as the "leader" of the group.  To my utter dismay, I suddenly seemed to be groping for words!  Memories came flooding in…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, a long time ago, I was a "promdi" (from the province) freshman who studied in the city.  It was a culture shock of sorts for me and I was really too shy and super insecure to make new friends.  From where I came from, I was used to classmates as well as school mates being dropped off by motorcycles/pedicabs/tricycles/bicycles and those who walked to and from their houses (ours was kind of a small backward town).  In the new school (it was actually a university), students were dropped off by their drivers/cars - in other words, most of them are rich.  This new school is known for by its academic excellence (not to mention its middle class-rich population…me?  I was just one of those students who came from a family with an average income) and my neurons were working properly and tuned in then ergo I was able to make the entrance exams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, come sophomore year, four wonderful girls welcomed me into their group - I really dunno how it all started, but there I was, suddenly "IN" a group.  Mind you, these are not just ordinary girls, they were quite popular too because of their looks - yes, they were one of the pretty ones.  Of course, I never imagined that they will accept me in their cool circle at all.  I was ecstatic that they befriended me, but I would say that I was pretty quiet at first, but as time went by, I got comfortable around them, sharing jokes and laughter especially during our ride home (we'd take jeepneys together - their families have cars but I guess they preferred to ride the jeep then).  We called each other "Ne" - meaning "little girl" in our dialect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In spite of all these, I still had high doses of insecurity embedded in my system (and it's recurrent as I still suffer from this at times) perhaps because they were really fine-looking - their hairstyles were in sync with the fad (imagine the 90's hairstyle) and they have the "in" things…whereas I don’t even know how to put the hairspray on the exact angle thus making my teased-cum-sprayed bangs still look flat.  They've got the perfect teeth and perfect smiles while I'm "sungki."  They've got flawless skin while I've got lots of scratch marks and insect bites (I don’t dare wear shorts those times).  I wore big eyeglasses too.  You can just imagine my dilemma every time we have to have our pictures taken at a studio - I have a copy of one of those monstrosities.  Now, yes, the boys…Wow, lots of boys like them, even those from other schools do.  Me?  Oh yeah, I've got one, yes folks, one admirer/suitor at school, - a fellow dance trouper.  At least meron hahaha!  He eventually became my boyfriend (my first!) all because of their prodding and badgering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you really couldn’t blame a poor teenager like me then to feel like the ugly duckling in the group.  But these friends of mine, never did they let me feel out of place, never did they tell me I'm ugly or that I don’t belong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing I remember was during our senior year.  There was a beauty pageant of sorts, it was the search for Ms. United Nations.  Now these girls, along with our classmates, again badgered and convinced me to join the said contest.  I'd say that it was hitting two birds with one stone that time - the first bird would be that it would make me at least "known" (hopefully not a laughingstock) for a day and the second bird was that I got a 98% grade for our Social Studies class on that grading period…  And so I gave in and joined.  They were responsible for everything - one taught me the right catwalk (Joane) - she made me walk with a book above my head - but all of them helped with the costume /clothes to wear and with the makeup - yes, they were with me all through my "embarrassment."  Of course, I did not win hehehe.  But it was quite an experience.  Lucky me to have these girl friends huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We cried buckets of tears on our graduation - saying goodbye was never that easy.  I haven’t kept in touch with them until now - I'm still trying to anyway.  I still haven’t seen them since graduation.  I sure do hope I would in this lifetime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-8807315525694282057?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/8807315525694282057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=8807315525694282057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8807315525694282057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8807315525694282057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/09/high-school-life.html' title='HIGH SCHOOL LIFE...'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-5570882084217185833</id><published>2008-09-04T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T09:39:20.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE UNIVERSE HAS A WEIRD SENSE OF HUMOR...really...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SMAOR3QpvTI/AAAAAAAAAF0/X60c1HJU_jQ/s1600-h/Broken_heart_by_fabu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SMAOR3QpvTI/AAAAAAAAAF0/X60c1HJU_jQ/s320/Broken_heart_by_fabu.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242205666313616690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fallen… bruised… badly broken… shattered into pieces… believing again that something exists when it doesn’t and will never be existent… have become so wretched... might as well bludgeon myself with a kevel…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The roughshod rhythm recurred…abhorring every millisecond of it, yet continues to somehow yearn that things this time might be different…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confusion sets in and tries to battle with what little sanity I have left in me… really a vicious cycle… should've sharpened my claws to be able to fight my way out… should've… could've…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confidence was regained and now lost again… I have become an imbecile… my thought processes are furthermore disturbed…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people are just born pachydermatous… was mastering the art of being immune to these beings, but alas!  Who am I kidding?  I still am not… goddammit…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am once again, a pathetic mortal contaminating the universe's gene pool…if only chlorination could serve as an antidote to such condition…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-5570882084217185833?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/5570882084217185833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=5570882084217185833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5570882084217185833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5570882084217185833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/09/universe-has-weird-sense-of-humorreally.html' title='THE UNIVERSE HAS A WEIRD SENSE OF HUMOR...really...'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SMAOR3QpvTI/AAAAAAAAAF0/X60c1HJU_jQ/s72-c/Broken_heart_by_fabu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-485092686244931734</id><published>2008-09-02T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T10:52:19.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ingemination...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SL19ScSzswI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Oge3ykgzfdo/s1600-h/p299486-Baguio-Fog_in_the_City.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SL19ScSzswI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Oge3ykgzfdo/s320/p299486-Baguio-Fog_in_the_City.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241483297115321090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had a great vacation so I should be stress-free…  But I’m not… I’m at it again… I really think so…  “It” meaning I’m at the boundaries of my emotional ambit.  And I’m petrified, really.  It has been my belief that my brain is now capable of taking charge of my life instead of these freakin’ emotions.  I don’t cry over something so easily anymore and that’s good right?  Well, yeah, I know that it would seem that I’ve kind of numbed up but it’s the best thing for me and my cardiovascular system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But things are happening beyond my control and I am still trying to brave this… It’s scaring the hell out of me.  I don’t wanna give in to this.  I’ve already been to hell and back, and believe you me, the journey is tumultuous.  I don’t wanna be sucked through that vortex all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let’s all hope I’m just being my delusional self.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dammit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-485092686244931734?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/485092686244931734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=485092686244931734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/485092686244931734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/485092686244931734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/09/ingemination.html' title='Ingemination...'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SL19ScSzswI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Oge3ykgzfdo/s72-c/p299486-Baguio-Fog_in_the_City.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-5964126057662914991</id><published>2008-08-17T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T10:38:11.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AIN'T IT GRAND?</title><content type='html'>I'm worried…as usual…I practically worry about everything…sometimes I think it's the borderline between paranoia and sanity.  Things that worry me are, for instance, me being a mom.  Am I doing a good job raising my kids?  Have I taught them enough?  Have I shown them that I love them?  It's not like I just gave birth to them for crying out loud, but as they grow older, of course the situation becomes different -- greater challenges are at hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am now working at home.  I'm really very thankful for this because this way, I could spend more time with them --- I wouldn’t be an "absentee" mother (as one of uncles used to say because he said that I always come home late from work ergo the kids are asleep by then).  When I was working in an office, honestly, it gave me a sense of individuality somehow, a sense of being me, the independent office woman, not the mother.  I also used to go out a lot with friends or cousins.  Yes, I would feel guilty about it most of the time, but they would tell me not to because it should be a time for myself.  Whenever I spend on something for me, I also feel guilty, as I would think that with that money, I could've bought something for the kids.  Again, my friends would chide me stating that I should indulge sometimes, that I deserve a "reward".  Anyhow, now that I work from home, I seldom go out (which is more of my choice anyway) and I've pretty much gotten used to being around my boys - their smell, their jokes and antics, their laughter, their fights.  Now, whenever my friends would invite me out, I rarely, as in RARELY, yield to them.  Why?  Because I'm worried that I'd miss them too much that I wouldn’t really enjoy the outing and thus become a party pooper.  This led me to theorize that I've got separation anxiety.  Oh my…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got an out-of-town sashay planned at the end of the month.  Now let me tell you that my emotional range is boundless - ergo, I am nicknamed "EMOTERA" by close friends.  As the day of this planned junket approaches, I find myself feeling uneasy, again, because I'm worried about the boys.  Sometimes I've got racing thoughts before I go to sleep (and racing thoughts are scary - it's a symptom of depression) that give me palpitations literally.  I know, I know - you would say that I'm OA but I really can't help it.  This absolutely distresses me and keeps me up at night and the only way that keeps my brain to shut these thoughts off is by praying.  Yes my dears, I DO know how to pray.  Hey, I went to a Catholic university during high school for Pete's sake - why am I explaining myself anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So…I've been psyching myself lately to be excited for this upcoming trip, and I am.  In fact, my eldest son has been encouraging me to do or buy something for myself so when a friend of mine told me about this excursion, I decided to go for it - another way to also de-stress.  I'm hoping and praying that it would be worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should be deliriously freakin' happy and agog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-5964126057662914991?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/5964126057662914991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=5964126057662914991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5964126057662914991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5964126057662914991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/08/aint-it-grand.html' title='AIN&apos;T IT GRAND?'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1239654357685865537</id><published>2008-08-12T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T23:05:59.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>25 THINGS A WOMAN SHOULD NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SKJ4nwpu5cI/AAAAAAAAAE8/Nk9ryOAMcIg/s1600-h/sorry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SKJ4nwpu5cI/AAAAAAAAAE8/Nk9ryOAMcIg/s320/sorry.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233878341428110786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Never apologize for pursuing what makes you happy. Even if you need to quit your job, transfer schools, or move across country, always do what you really want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Never apologize for using proper English. Keeping it real doesn't mean speaking Ebonics. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Never apologize for giving your best in a relationship that just didn't work out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Never apologize for being successful. Only haters want to keep you at their level. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Never apologize for crying. Wear waterproof mascara and express yourself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Never apologize for ten pounds you need to lose. People who truly care about you will accept you as you are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Never apologize for being frugal. Just because you save your money instead of blowing it on the latest fashion emergency doesn't mean you're cheap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Don't apologize for being a single Mom. Babies are a blessing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Never apologize for treating yourself to something special. Sometimes you have to show yourself some appreciation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Never apologize for leaving an abusive relationship. Your safety should always be a priority. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Never apologize for keeping the ring even if you did not get married. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Never apologize for setting high standards in a relationship. You know what you can tolerate and what simply g ets on your nerves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Never apologize for saying NO. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Never apologize for asking for what you want in bed. If you don't, then who will? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Never apologize for wearing a weave or braids. You bought it so it's yours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Never apologize to your new friends about old friends. There's a reason she's been your girl from day one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Never apologize for ordering dessert or more than one dessert. &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;18. Never apologize for dating outside your race. Just because you found Mr. Right across the color line doesn't mean you don't love your brothas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Never apologize for demanding respect.  You are to always be treated as a queen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Never apologize for not knowing how to cook. Even if you can't burn like Grandma you know how to order good take out. (Right Girl!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Never apologize for your taste in clothes. It's your style. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Never apologize for changing your mind, it is your prerogative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Never apologize for making a decision from your heart, even if others don't agree. You have to live with the consequences not them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Never apologize for making more money than your man, you work hard and you deserve to get paid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Never apologize for being you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1239654357685865537?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1239654357685865537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1239654357685865537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1239654357685865537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1239654357685865537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/08/25-things-woman-should-never-apologize.html' title='25 THINGS A WOMAN SHOULD NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SKJ4nwpu5cI/AAAAAAAAAE8/Nk9ryOAMcIg/s72-c/sorry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-6348914790741676884</id><published>2008-08-03T23:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T21:33:29.198-08:00</updated><title type='text'>nuthin' to do..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SKJ5dKWMtKI/AAAAAAAAAFM/U5-T2hytfd8/s1600-h/emote.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SKJ5dKWMtKI/AAAAAAAAAFM/U5-T2hytfd8/s320/emote.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233879258858566818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-6348914790741676884?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/6348914790741676884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=6348914790741676884' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/6348914790741676884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/6348914790741676884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/08/nuthin-to-do.html' title='nuthin&apos; to do..'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SKJ5dKWMtKI/AAAAAAAAAFM/U5-T2hytfd8/s72-c/emote.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-8681191590087350718</id><published>2008-07-21T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T09:58:19.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY BOYS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SITAGjoL61I/AAAAAAAAAEs/kdS2yGeWWKc/s1600-h/after.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SITAGjoL61I/AAAAAAAAAEs/kdS2yGeWWKc/s320/after.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225512686532160338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a snapshot of my two beautiful boys...I have yet to scan their old baby pics though hehehe...To these two not-so-little guys:  I LOVE YOU BOTH SO MUCH...You are my strength and my life...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-8681191590087350718?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/8681191590087350718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=8681191590087350718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8681191590087350718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8681191590087350718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-boys.html' title='MY BOYS'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SITAGjoL61I/AAAAAAAAAEs/kdS2yGeWWKc/s72-c/after.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-9124870184802266470</id><published>2008-07-12T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T08:32:50.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SORSOGON PHILIPPINES...</title><content type='html'>One of the places to go in the country, if you want to take a breather, is the province of Sorsogon.  It is located in the Bicol region, the southernmost province of Luzon.  If you love nature, this is the place to go...Here are some pics.. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjMHf16snI/AAAAAAAAAEk/oMxMbB5A6pg/s1600-h/07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjMHf16snI/AAAAAAAAAEk/oMxMbB5A6pg/s320/07.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222148197114884722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                   &lt;strong&gt;Matnog sunset&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjL51Wp8hI/AAAAAAAAAEc/XWJdTt1LoBQ/s1600-h/33.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjL51Wp8hI/AAAAAAAAAEc/XWJdTt1LoBQ/s320/33.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222147962371174930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                   &lt;strong&gt;Subic island&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjLoYK4_cI/AAAAAAAAAEU/xiHR7dGuPvM/s1600-h/DSC02455.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjLoYK4_cI/AAAAAAAAAEU/xiHR7dGuPvM/s320/DSC02455.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222147662479424962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              &lt;strong&gt;Me and friends enjoying Palogtoc Falls&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjLYbPbrhI/AAAAAAAAAEM/3mO2RiurxLA/s1600-h/DSC02486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjLYbPbrhI/AAAAAAAAAEM/3mO2RiurxLA/s320/DSC02486.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222147388425874962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              &lt;strong&gt;Subic island&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjLM94no1I/AAAAAAAAAEE/UlI4XBxRnUs/s1600-h/DSC02527.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjLM94no1I/AAAAAAAAAEE/UlI4XBxRnUs/s320/DSC02527.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222147191567000402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                        &lt;strong&gt;View from the top of a hill at Subic island&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjK7V2d8BI/AAAAAAAAAD8/guwpoloHdX4/s1600-h/very%2520clear%2520water.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjK7V2d8BI/AAAAAAAAAD8/guwpoloHdX4/s320/very%2520clear%2520water.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222146888762781714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              &lt;strong&gt;Paguriran Island&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjK0UhF5aI/AAAAAAAAAD0/zWE_QCHiMNw/s1600-h/subic%2520island.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjK0UhF5aI/AAAAAAAAAD0/zWE_QCHiMNw/s320/subic%2520island.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222146768145606050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              &lt;strong&gt;Subic island bay&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjKlOK2-_I/AAAAAAAAADs/uB0GjW4ja4E/s1600-h/cave.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjKlOK2-_I/AAAAAAAAADs/uB0GjW4ja4E/s320/cave.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222146508743703538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               &lt;strong&gt;One of the bay caves at subic&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjKZzmQs4I/AAAAAAAAADk/1bpRSwb50Ls/s1600-h/been%2520to%2520bulusan.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjKZzmQs4I/AAAAAAAAADk/1bpRSwb50Ls/s320/been%2520to%2520bulusan.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222146312632316802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                 &lt;strong&gt;Bulusan Lake&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjKMws2FWI/AAAAAAAAADc/9JUtctYcRr4/s1600-h/1_392717918l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjKMws2FWI/AAAAAAAAADc/9JUtctYcRr4/s320/1_392717918l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222146088516326754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                               &lt;strong&gt;Mini caves along Subic island stretch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-9124870184802266470?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/9124870184802266470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=9124870184802266470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/9124870184802266470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/9124870184802266470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/07/sorsogon-philippines.html' title='SORSOGON PHILIPPINES...'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHjMHf16snI/AAAAAAAAAEk/oMxMbB5A6pg/s72-c/07.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-4469838423262810945</id><published>2008-07-07T08:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T08:45:20.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk about seething anger...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHI6B7di0uI/AAAAAAAAADU/fvfgesNEnbg/s1600-h/biteme.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHI6B7di0uI/AAAAAAAAADU/fvfgesNEnbg/s320/biteme.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220298722891715298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Addressing Senate President Manuel Villar): “I’m not angry, Mr. President, I am not angry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I am irate. I am foaming at the mouth. I’m homicidal. I’m suicidal. I’m humiliated, debased, degraded. And not only that, I feel like throwing up to be living my middle years in a country of this nature. I am nauseated. I spit in the face of Chief Justice Artemio Panganiban and his cohorts in the Supreme Court.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-SENATOR MIRIAM DEFENSOR-SANTIAGO, AFTER BEING DROPPED FROM JUDICIAL AND BAR COUNCIL SHORTLIST, December 2006&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-4469838423262810945?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/4469838423262810945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=4469838423262810945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4469838423262810945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4469838423262810945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/07/talk-about-seething-anger.html' title='Talk about seething anger...'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHI6B7di0uI/AAAAAAAAADU/fvfgesNEnbg/s72-c/biteme.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1805138536287354814</id><published>2008-07-06T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T21:51:49.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Signs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHGcONTR53I/AAAAAAAAADM/7tEeGdxQL34/s1600-h/sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHGcONTR53I/AAAAAAAAADM/7tEeGdxQL34/s320/sign.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220125211001743218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really amusing how signs are slapped in your face.  Hilarious even when &lt;strong&gt;fate&lt;/strong&gt; (if it really exists) dons its full battle regalia and gathers its forces thereby proving the point that "some things are not meant to be or meant to happen."  I somehow had just experienced this a few days ago.  A greater force intervened... Perhaps, yes, only for my own benefit as a means of saving myself from shattering into pieces all freakin' over again.  Weird, really, but I have no way of lookng at it otherwise logically.  It's like looking at an EDSA billboard, which screams "&lt;em&gt;Just Stop It&lt;/em&gt;" which of course is an antiloquy of Nike's "JUST DO IT" ad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So is this really a sign that i should stop being masochistic and take care of my heart (umm, duh!)?  Now i just remembered what my bestfriend reminded me about tomatoes (be it the paste, the sauce or the real deal) being good for the heart.  He advised that i should have a &lt;strong&gt;tomato overload&lt;/strong&gt; along with my chocolate cravings... He also suggested that I change my favorite ridiculous dialogue from "&lt;em&gt;Be still my heart&lt;/em&gt;" to "Be &lt;strong&gt;steel&lt;/strong&gt; my heart." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice huh...It got me thinking...With all due respect to the Wachowski brothers, i think Trinity should've died in the Matrix and not saved by Neo..because there's no Neo..there's no "THE ONE"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gawd, these acrid words....hmmmpph...I better get a dose of ABS Bitter Herbs..fast..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1805138536287354814?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1805138536287354814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1805138536287354814' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1805138536287354814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1805138536287354814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/07/signs.html' title='Signs'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SHGcONTR53I/AAAAAAAAADM/7tEeGdxQL34/s72-c/sign.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1378799926898582986</id><published>2008-06-29T13:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T01:00:19.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TSOKOLATE</title><content type='html'>I was sooooo craving for chocolates these past few days. Of course, I wouldn’t dare deny that I've been quite, errrr, sad lately (and edgy and high-strung and impatient, etc. etc.) and I reckon a little dose of endorphins might lighten me up a bit, you know…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SGiQ28kro4I/AAAAAAAAACo/CBJH-8Ki-2w/s1600-h/chocolates_img_main03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217579441956037506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SGiQ28kro4I/AAAAAAAAACo/CBJH-8Ki-2w/s320/chocolates_img_main03.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyhow, this craving, I noticed, transpires on ungodly hours, i.e., midnight to wee hours of the morning, wherein of course the neighborhood sari-sari stores would be friggin' closed so that I couldn’t even buy myself a piece or two of ChockNut or Cloud 9, dammit. One midnight ago, I suddenly wanted to eat Voice biscuits/crackers (for those of you who are unfamiliar with this, this has a chocolate wafer in between the crackers - and it's yummy). I wasn’t really aware that it was already midnight then; I thought it was only 10:30 p.m. so I asked my son to buy some for me and he said, exasperated, "Mom, the stores are closed!" It was then that I realized what the time was. I would've thrown a fit right then, but of course, it's not really very pretty to look at and not proper (at my age) especially in front of my child, huh!!? So, I just inhaled deeply and decided to let go and forget about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier today, about 6 p.m., I caught a chocolate feature on TV. Of course it talked about chocolates: how they're made, their benefits, and so on. All of a sudden, my househelp muttered something about having "tableya" in the house, sent by my adorable mum (tableya, by the way, is a local chocolate made of cacao seeds and a local version of cocoa), so we checked, and oh heavens, there it was! I was too elated and the next thing I did was bark instructions to her to make me mug of hot chocolate. The weather was damp and it looked like rain was coming so it sort of…jibes... - a hot chocolate on a rainy night. Lovely isn't it? I felt giddy and it was oh so delicious! It was really sweet though, too sweet that it would make you wonder if you've contracted diabetes already. Nevertheless, I put lots of powdered milk in it (thus making it more sweet) and drank it slowly, but greedily, savoring the chocolatey taste that almost got me stark raving mad because of lusting after it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SGiQYnCijRI/AAAAAAAAACg/1X9GO6o5LgI/s1600-h/cocoa2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217578920779615506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SGiQYnCijRI/AAAAAAAAACg/1X9GO6o5LgI/s320/cocoa2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So am I still sad? Hmmm…perhaps, a bit, yes. Why? Because it's raining…and raining equals bed weather…triple dammit…dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I have to have loads of chocolate in my system…&lt;strong&gt;gimme, gimme, gimme!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1378799926898582986?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1378799926898582986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1378799926898582986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1378799926898582986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1378799926898582986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/06/tsokolate.html' title='TSOKOLATE'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SGiQ28kro4I/AAAAAAAAACo/CBJH-8Ki-2w/s72-c/chocolates_img_main03.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-520235055459958791</id><published>2008-06-23T00:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T01:35:33.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Australia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SGiazRRPiJI/AAAAAAAAACw/yaZdIALRt7o/s1600-h/great_ocean_road_sea_waves2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SGiazRRPiJI/AAAAAAAAACw/yaZdIALRt7o/s320/great_ocean_road_sea_waves2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217590373908449426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm currently reading another "chick lit" book and it generally talks about Australia..the sceneries, the beaches, the wild, and most of all, the hot Aussie blokes...hehehe..the book basically describes these blokes as darn smoldering hot n' sexy...whew! Plus with those beaches? Who would ask for more?! (I'm Alt-Tabbing actually, writing this and surfing pics of Australia and its blokes, snicker snicker...) Ooh if it's not just so freakin' expensive to go there, i'd be on my way right this sec..dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;excuse me for acting like a hormone-driven teenager (which i'm not - a teenager that is), i guess i got too caught up with this reading that i'm delusional again.. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blabbing again..oops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-520235055459958791?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/520235055459958791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=520235055459958791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/520235055459958791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/520235055459958791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/06/australia.html' title='Australia'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_j2M13-5C0yo/SGiazRRPiJI/AAAAAAAAACw/yaZdIALRt7o/s72-c/great_ocean_road_sea_waves2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-2303950381427450798</id><published>2008-06-23T00:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T00:32:17.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I DID IT!</title><content type='html'>I did it! I went BUNGEEJUMPING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I did...really... it was a dream though...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dammit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-2303950381427450798?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/2303950381427450798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=2303950381427450798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/2303950381427450798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/2303950381427450798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-did-it.html' title='I DID IT!'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-3402918655074682393</id><published>2008-05-19T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T06:23:32.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>THE THRILLS</title><content type='html'>Enjoying life's vicarious thrills is one way to celebrate living.  Right or wrong, if it makes your fight the struggles of living, so be it.  There is no point of showing the wrath of righteousness here, hey, nobody's perfect; go ahead and cast the first stone if you're so bleeding perfect (Filipino translation:  WALANG BASAGAN NG TRIP).  Of course, cautiousness is a must cause we don't wanna wake up one day aghast and suddenly never knowing what hit you..well, if you ask me...i still wanna go bungeejumping...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-3402918655074682393?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/3402918655074682393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=3402918655074682393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3402918655074682393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3402918655074682393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/05/thrills.html' title='THE THRILLS'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-26502587336694262</id><published>2008-05-19T06:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T11:36:11.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GAAADD! IT'S GOOOODDD!!!</title><content type='html'>It's nice to feel good again about yourself. Of course, there are reasons for this. You've got your family who will always make you feel loved even you seem so unlovable at times and stay patient with your hellish fits of craziness. And then there are your good ol' friends around you, never ceasing to make you laugh even though you're really on the verge of tears and breaking down already. Its also amazing since most days you'll never think a day like this would come. This feeling will likely not last but who cares? Doesn't matter, it's nice having the bitter curtain lifted in your heart once in a while...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-26502587336694262?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/26502587336694262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=26502587336694262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/26502587336694262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/26502587336694262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/05/gaaadd-its-gooooddd.html' title='GAAADD! IT&apos;S GOOOODDD!!!'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-872112983996060214</id><published>2008-04-23T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T11:39:56.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MOON TIDE</title><content type='html'>(written 03/22/2008)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some good things never last. Yep, the Barbra Streisand song. As much as you wanna be analytical about this, you always end up asking the eternal question - WHY? Why can't good things last forever? Why does it have to stop? What's the point of feeling good when in the end you'll feel bad again? They say it's supposed to make you stronger and it's supposed to make you learn the ways of life. But not you. You're feeling bitter as time goes by. It's baffling why people will make you feel special and then just vanish in thin air. Then comes the part where you wallow. And then you get by, become okay, and move on. And then, out of the blue, they find a way to infiltrate your contented little world again. WHAT THE?!?! Damnit, it confuses the hell out of you. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such a cruel world. Then you try to be optimistic about it telling yourself "perhaps this time…" then it becomes a vicious cycle and you become powerless to stop and cut through it. Now you justify everything and think that it's the masochist in you, loving every bit of pain that you feel. Smirk, smirk…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment, tears elude you (unless you're watching a sappy movie or peeling onions), but you don’t think you have lots of strength in you. You realize it only means you are getting tired of this bull-freakin'-shit and your tear ducts are all dried up. Oh yes you still goof around and smile and laugh a lot that you've got premature crow's feet (giving you the urge to have Botox), but still, inside, you feel empty…Nil…Zilch…Then a bright idea crosses your mind ---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;YOU WANNA GO BUNGGEEJUMPING…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-872112983996060214?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/872112983996060214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=872112983996060214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/872112983996060214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/872112983996060214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/moon-tide.html' title='MOON TIDE'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-4417532762105194971</id><published>2008-04-23T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:16:03.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NEW THOUGHTS</title><content type='html'>(written on 02/08/2006)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This part should be labeled "old thoughts" not new thoughts.  Why?  Because I guess things that will be written here will just be the same complaints and whines, as what I have in my previous, err, writings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier today, what could have been a wonderful day quite ended up a sad day…and a tearful one at that.  I'm still wondering when I will have the courage to say what I wanna say and not just bottle them up.  That is still my dilemma -- saying how I feel -- if I'm giddy with love or I'm as angry as a bear.  Tears have been shed earlier, and most of those tears are tears of dismay.  I couldn’t believe that a person very, very close to my heart would be able to think less of me -- and it breaks my heart!  My heart has just been starting to gather up its pieces from countless heartaches and yet, it is being wounded again, which made me ponder "will this ever heal?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, I see a spark of hope ignited within me…Perhaps this too, shall pass…or will be forgotten.  As I have always prayed that tears will elude me, still, there's always the notion that this prayer will sometimes go unanswered…but then again, that is life.  A life without tears will leave you weak and unguarded.I would wish to catch a glimpse of what tomorrow would bring, but it remains bleak at this time -- still without certainty. All I could do is hope, learn, and pray…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-4417532762105194971?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/4417532762105194971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=4417532762105194971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4417532762105194971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4417532762105194971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/new-thoughts.html' title='NEW THOUGHTS'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1564062643218433361</id><published>2008-04-23T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:14:11.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>somewhere i have never traveled</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence:in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers,you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose&lt;br /&gt;or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,as when the heart of this flower imaginesthe snow carefully everywhere descending;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texturecompels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understandsthe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;e.e. cummings&lt;/strong&gt;-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1564062643218433361?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1564062643218433361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1564062643218433361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1564062643218433361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1564062643218433361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/somewhere-i-have-never-traveled.html' title='somewhere i have never traveled'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-5887005840906642072</id><published>2008-04-23T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:10:22.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PASSING LOVE</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Because you are to me a song&lt;br /&gt;I must not sing you over long.&lt;br /&gt;Because you are to me a prayer&lt;br /&gt;I cannot say you everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;Because you are to me a rose--&lt;br /&gt;You will not stay when summer goes...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;Langston Hughes&lt;/strong&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-5887005840906642072?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/5887005840906642072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=5887005840906642072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5887005840906642072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5887005840906642072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/passing-love.html' title='PASSING LOVE'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-8632818262206279472</id><published>2008-04-23T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:09:03.451-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MY PERSONALITY IS... (Idealist)</title><content type='html'>MY PERSONALITY IS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a passionate, caring, and unique person.You are good at expressing yourself and sharing your ideals.You are the most compassionate of all types and connect with others easily.Your heart tends to rule you. You can't make decisions without considering feelings.You seek out other empathetic people to befriend.Truth and authenticity matters in your friendships.In love, you give everything you have to relationships. You fall in love easily.At work, you crave personal expression and meaning in your career.With others, you communicate well. You can spend all night talking with someone.As far as your looks go, you've likely taken the time to develop your own personal style.On weekends, you like to be with others. Charity work is also a favorite pastime of yours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-8632818262206279472?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/8632818262206279472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=8632818262206279472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8632818262206279472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8632818262206279472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-personality-is-idealist.html' title='MY PERSONALITY IS... (Idealist)'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-5929269534983134203</id><published>2008-04-23T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:07:28.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AMIGOS Y AMIGAS</title><content type='html'>it's been like ages since i poured out my catharsis here..i've been through hell and back, but there are good days for me fortunately, making me think that i really must have done something good in my life (maybe it was the day i helped an old woman cross the street or the day i gave 20 bucks to a homeless guy...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh gawd, what the heck, all of us deal with different types of crap from the moment we were born and perhaps confront them in our own weird way.. LIFE is, most of the time, complicated (--i really luvv this word :D) and overrated (and so with everything else in this world) and that's the freakin' truth..sometimes, it makes us do things that we painstakingly try transform ourselves into a different entity, until one day we realize we just don't like the person we've become..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i guess this is why friendship is formulated...and i'm just SO glad that i have friends who i turn to everytime i have the urge to yammer and bitch around incessantly..and these friends NEVER fail to listen and accept me for who or what i am...their just being there for me is enough..i am content with it...it's a vice versa thing though, as i always tell them that they can always come to me even if they just wanna throw a fit, get bitchy or cranky, or perhaps they just feel like fidgeting and what-not, and i would gladly welcome them with open arms and let them be ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this thing that we have has an upside..sometimes, if we feel like we just want to feel miserable together (e.g., just sitting and laze around with that far-away look on our faces while twisting several strands of hair and not uttering a single syllable), we do that..it makes yammering and whining a lot of fun because it makes me feel that i'm not alone in my "pathetic-ness" and sometimes it makes me realize that some of them have even bigger challenges than moi..(hence the cliche "misery loves company")...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ergo, i would like to say "&lt;strong&gt;THANK YOU&lt;/strong&gt;" to these great and rare beings i call friends...thanks for putting up with my sh!t and im sorry if ever i've hurt u in one way or another..i want u guys to know that your friendship is cherished and is of great value to me..it's a relief that there are still people like u in this gene pool and i sure hope that u don't have a "&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Best Before&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;" seal stuck on ur foreheads...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with that said (or written), here's a toast for u.. &lt;em&gt;KAMPAI&lt;/em&gt;!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-5929269534983134203?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/5929269534983134203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=5929269534983134203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5929269534983134203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5929269534983134203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/amigos-y-amigas.html' title='AMIGOS Y AMIGAS'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-8383140220177168245</id><published>2008-04-23T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:04:33.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O, IT WAS OUT BY DONNYCARNEY</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;O, it was out by Donnycarney&lt;br /&gt;When the bat flew from tree to tree&lt;br /&gt;My love and I did walk together;&lt;br /&gt;And sweet were the words (s)he said to me.&lt;br /&gt;Along with us the summer wind&lt;br /&gt;Went murmuring -- - O happily! -- -&lt;br /&gt;But softer than the breath of summer&lt;br /&gt;Was the kiss (s)he gave to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-james joyce-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-8383140220177168245?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/8383140220177168245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=8383140220177168245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8383140220177168245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8383140220177168245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-it-was-out-by-donnycarney.html' title='O, IT WAS OUT BY DONNYCARNEY'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-3695000849984314882</id><published>2008-04-23T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T03:42:55.487-07:00</updated><title type='text'>L'AUTRE FEMME</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;basking in the solitude of my milieu&lt;br /&gt;wondering about my existence&lt;br /&gt;wondering how you’ve been&lt;br /&gt;the distance between us does not matter&lt;br /&gt;and my thoughts of you do not falter.&lt;br /&gt;we may not recognize where the future will lead us&lt;br /&gt;as the future I cannot ascertain&lt;br /&gt;indeed I will savor the present for whatever it may be worth&lt;br /&gt;and taste the rapture of your affection for me.&lt;br /&gt;another day will not obscure&lt;br /&gt;the hopes of a new tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;an embroidery on a canvas that we interlaced&lt;br /&gt;completed and adorned by everything that we shared.&lt;br /&gt;giving me a part of you&lt;br /&gt;i will always be thankful for&lt;br /&gt;though i cannot have you&lt;br /&gt;the part you have shared with me&lt;br /&gt;will only be mine and not to anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;so i will try to relish my existence&lt;br /&gt;that these two had separated&lt;br /&gt;carrying on with the things that i have to do&lt;br /&gt;however still always loving you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;ooshposh&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(10/16/2006)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-3695000849984314882?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/3695000849984314882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=3695000849984314882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3695000849984314882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3695000849984314882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/lautre-femme.html' title='L&apos;AUTRE FEMME'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1073711967578626661</id><published>2008-04-23T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:58:31.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PARADOX</title><content type='html'>(written on 10/01/2006)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve noticed that I have written quite a few things about love (such that I kind of emit the ‘love junkie’ effect to those who read my blog, and of course which I am not), about sadness, past hurts, my grudges or of life being sometimes a biatch, etc., etc. I haven’t tried writing about the act where swapping of bodily fluids takes place (a.k.a. SEX – hello!), but I have posted something vis‑à-vis this matter... Hence, I have decided that I want to write something sane and something that is of value, not melodramatic, pessimistic, or acrimonious…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past several weeks, I have observed that despite continuous burrowing through my cerebrum, I really, really find it impossible to write about anything.  There were times, though, when I suddenly have a certain something that would poke at my now-not-too-workaholic neurons (picture me with a blinking light bulb above my head – AHA!), and then poof!  It would just evaporate into thin air that would make me want to scream and then hopefully gouge the eyes of those beings who will dare leer at me…(ugh, gross.. i was just kidding on the gouging part..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, it’s not that I’m making up a cock-and-bull story just because I have lost my knack for writing (or the lack thereof)… Just thinking that perhaps the reason why this is happening is because my brain is atrophying, gives me the creeps!  If this is the case, maybe this is the way my brain cells are showing me their outrage since I haven’t been making a good use of them… Nooooooo! This is a nightmare!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1073711967578626661?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1073711967578626661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1073711967578626661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1073711967578626661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1073711967578626661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/paradox.html' title='PARADOX'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-6185157029781794074</id><published>2008-04-23T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:45:27.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ANOPHELOSIS</title><content type='html'>(written 08/17/2006)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ANOPHELOSIS: &lt;/strong&gt; A morbid state brought about by extreme frustration.&lt;br /&gt;As part of life’s vicious cycle, we have to go through several (or at least some – well, lucky you!) ordeals and pains and of course, it would depend on us how to get a grip of ourselves when we are about to give in and perhaps lose the slightest bit of sanity left within us… Ergo, we experience anophelosis.  Hmmm…exactly…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These past few weeks, I go to work later than usual (meaning mas nala-late ako) and as much as I want to come in earlier, I couldn’t muster enough physical and mental prowess to do so…Of course, there are REALLY some days when inevitable things happen (such as the water tank breaking down and having to fetch H2O a few houses away from ours; OR waking up with an atrocious headache just because I really find it difficult to sleep as early as I want to, in other words, I’m suffering from pseudo-insomnia; OR having to run an errand for people because you have to and deep inside you know you’re still a “people person…” hey.. I can go on and on here…trust me, my reasons are legit…).  Anyhow, some friends psychoanalyze me in a not-so-Freudian kind of way and I guess, a bit of their analyses has a ring of truth to it…according to them, I am just inflicted with the “burn-out syndrome” which means “the-phase-of-our-existence-wherein-we-are-incapable-of-functioning-usefully disorder.”  (Sometimes, being the ‘emotera’ that I am, I convince myself, and everybody else, that I’m suffering from emotional malaise…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I’m blabbing about is really this…life sucks sometimes and not all of us possess the capability of being calm when we feel like all we want to do is rave and rant like madmen or beat the crap out of each other…naturally, we can always choose to either stay like this for a long time or slowly try to grasp and cope with the things that made us “&lt;em&gt;temporarily insane&lt;/em&gt;” and go on with our existentiality…yes, life sucks and reality bites (and occasionally has claws too), but really now, we don’t have to be so misanthropic about it…I mean, hey, I believe that each individual has his own karmic design and this thing called karma really exists (which, by the way, is just lurking in the shadows or peering over our shoulders)…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I’m saying is that we must never lose faith in the greater good… Just putting in my two cents… (and I hope I made sense..*sigh*)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-6185157029781794074?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/6185157029781794074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=6185157029781794074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/6185157029781794074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/6185157029781794074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/anophelosis.html' title='ANOPHELOSIS'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1773850894408425818</id><published>2008-04-23T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:35:51.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YA-DI-DA</title><content type='html'>(written 08/10/2006)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we desire strongly for something that we know we cannot have, but instead of being resigned to the concept, still we go on longing for it.  Why is it that we always have this resolute adherence to our own longings, when at the back of our heads (and hearts), we are AWARE of the certainty that some things are, perhaps, not just capable of existing? (Hah! What is that smirk in your face??) Now it may seem like you are an addition to the wretched ones of this interbreeding population, but so what? Nobody can stop you with what to do with your existence!  To heck with these freakin’ condemnatory people… and yes, I know, I know…this cliché “some things are just not meant to be” appears to be screaming inside your brain over and over again just like an echo, that you might as well bludgeon yourself with a mallet…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodness I’m blabbering now…this happens when I really don’t know what to write…i used to write with such ease, without having to ponder long enough on what words to use or what things to write about…I usually write how I feel (especially if I feel melancholic and I’m in one of my morose moods) and it does the trick.  Somehow, I feel better and feels like a dark cloud has been lifted…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blabbering again…where was i? oh… I’m talking about yearning for things that we cant have…hhummmphhh…I really don’t have anything further to say…I just think that this happens to most of us, if not, ALL of us…that we kind of go through this…this…dilemma… of course, there’s always this uncertainty, but I guess it makes our existentiality kind of stimulating…&lt;br /&gt;pfft!..blah..blah..blah…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1773850894408425818?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1773850894408425818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1773850894408425818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1773850894408425818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1773850894408425818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/ya-di-da.html' title='YA-DI-DA'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-4857534396929431213</id><published>2008-04-23T10:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:33:57.835-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FIVE TIPS FOR A WOMAN</title><content type='html'>This is hilarious...got this thru text message...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;It is important that a man helps you around the house and has a job. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It is important that a man makes you laugh.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It is important to find a man you can count on and doesn't lie to you. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It is important that a man loves you and spoils you. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It is important that these four men don't know each other...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..this is just for kicks peeps...it'll still be up to you hehehe...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-4857534396929431213?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/4857534396929431213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=4857534396929431213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4857534396929431213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4857534396929431213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/five-tips-for-woman.html' title='FIVE TIPS FOR A WOMAN'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-5459856044984637187</id><published>2008-04-23T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T03:37:46.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me Revenir Mon Amour (an excerpt)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;The distance seems so far, yet so near,&lt;br /&gt;Knowing when the time is right, you will be here&lt;br /&gt;When i call for you...&lt;br /&gt;Missing you, loving you,&lt;br /&gt;Wanting you, needing you...&lt;br /&gt;There has been a void in this place&lt;br /&gt;Since you left...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Come back, my love, it won't be much longer!&lt;br /&gt;You are wanted and needed&lt;br /&gt;More than you could ever know!&lt;br /&gt;And missed-- you are so missed--&lt;br /&gt;As you consume my thoughts and&lt;br /&gt;Drive my desires...&lt;br /&gt;Come back soon, my dearest love!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-5459856044984637187?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/5459856044984637187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=5459856044984637187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5459856044984637187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/5459856044984637187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/me-revenir-mon-amour-excerpt.html' title='Me Revenir Mon Amour (an excerpt)'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-3927011381694877614</id><published>2008-04-23T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:28:10.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'>* P A I N *</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Nothing tries the human soul so much as pain...&lt;br /&gt;It is interwoven in the fabric of life,&lt;br /&gt;in one form or the other&lt;br /&gt;and at some time or another,&lt;br /&gt;we shall all experience &lt;em&gt;PAIN&lt;/em&gt;..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;-Sota Omoigui, M.D.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-3927011381694877614?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/3927011381694877614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=3927011381694877614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3927011381694877614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3927011381694877614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/p-i-n.html' title='* P A I N *'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1005622167951444950</id><published>2008-04-23T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:26:28.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>*&amp;^%#%&amp;&amp;%&amp;^$#</title><content type='html'>(written in nov 2003)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turbulence of emotions..whoa! that's what i'm feeling right now.&lt;br /&gt;I've often wondered why some days i feel bizaare..Perhaps, such days are days when i'm in denial..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's quite ambiguous when it comes to describing how i'm feeling..Is it because i'm under the influence of the wondrous taste of alcohol? Or because i'm feeling just plain shitty? I've come to realize that i'm under the same spell and cycle again..And i'm getting tired of it..Why can't i just be in one corner and be at peace with myself? Do i need to get through with this again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps my close friends are tired of my whining and i can't blame them for that..Even I am tired of hearing myself whine all the time..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Normalcy for me these past few days is quite difficult to achieve..i am hoping to become part of the living things once again, as i am dead...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1005622167951444950?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1005622167951444950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1005622167951444950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1005622167951444950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1005622167951444950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post.html' title='*&amp;^%#%&amp;&amp;%&amp;^$#'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-4445011113482649437</id><published>2008-04-23T10:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T03:36:29.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AWAKENING</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Too much confusion&lt;br /&gt;Too much pain&lt;br /&gt;Too much hope&lt;br /&gt;Too much ache&lt;br /&gt;Too much anger&lt;br /&gt;Bewildered...pondering...&lt;br /&gt;Hoping...praying...&lt;br /&gt;Needing...wanting...&lt;br /&gt;Loving...hurting...&lt;br /&gt;Pain...always pain...&lt;br /&gt;Yet time passes by&lt;br /&gt;Easing sorrow&lt;br /&gt;Healing wounds...cleansing...&lt;br /&gt;Twilight has ended&lt;br /&gt;The dawn is near&lt;br /&gt;Existing...living...&lt;br /&gt;A new day has begun...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;ooshposh&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(2006)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-4445011113482649437?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/4445011113482649437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=4445011113482649437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4445011113482649437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/4445011113482649437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/awakening.html' title='AWAKENING'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-3063132663659996517</id><published>2008-04-23T10:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:22:02.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CRAP-ness</title><content type='html'>(written on 04/26/06)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know..i know..there is no such word..but for me, this word describes things and people who are full of crap...which makes me wonder, why is it that there have to be those kinds of people, huh?&lt;br /&gt;i decided to write about this because what started a good day ended up being a bad one..and yes, because of people who are full of crap..these people are the ones who let you believe in yourself, that you are a likeable person, etc. etc. In other words, these are the ones who give you confidence about certain things. Yet, time comes when they hurt you, just adding itself on the long list of hurts that you have had. When such things happen, your confidence diminishes. Whatever ego that's left in you evaporates. It is them who destroy the confidence in you that they once gave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i begin to ask myself.."what happens to me now?" Would i pretend not be hurt and go on with my life or not? To be honest, i still dont know...i really dont...that, my friend, is the million-dollar question...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-3063132663659996517?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/3063132663659996517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=3063132663659996517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3063132663659996517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3063132663659996517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/crap-ness.html' title='CRAP-ness'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-8197093487944977690</id><published>2008-04-23T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:17:07.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EXISTENTIAL ANGUISH</title><content type='html'>(written on 03/27/06)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been a while since i've been here..reason? i have no phone line in my new (rented) house, but i'm workin' on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow...nuthin's new with my life..same old same old hehe..i've been through several trials (which i think is part of everyone's life; except that sometimes, i think that mine is self-inflicted)..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been pondering things..about love and about life..Generally, i have this rule in my life to never take my love ones for granted. I always tell them that i love them. The words "i love you" are very sacred to me. I will never utter them unless i really mean it. Even if you ask my kids, i always tell them 'i love you' everyday..Before, i dont tell my mom how i love her and care for her, but now, i do..My friends know this too..You see, i always ask myself, "what if tomorrow never comes for me?"  I mean, im not being morbid, but we never know how long we've got in this world..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is short so we should enjoy all the small things and be thankful for all our blessings and for all the people who love and care for us..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-8197093487944977690?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/8197093487944977690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=8197093487944977690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8197093487944977690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8197093487944977690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/existential-anguish.html' title='EXISTENTIAL ANGUISH'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-1287054869206207953</id><published>2008-04-23T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:14:27.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>UNREQUITED II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;If i could just grasp thee&lt;br /&gt;And reach out to thee&lt;br /&gt;Thy nearness alone maketh a day brighter than any star..&lt;br /&gt;If thy heart could just hear my pleas&lt;br /&gt;And listen closely..&lt;br /&gt;It would hear sounds of echoing voices&lt;br /&gt;Telling how i love thee..&lt;br /&gt;Sad as it may be&lt;br /&gt;I dare not ask for thou to be mine&lt;br /&gt;But i fear not telling thee&lt;br /&gt;The deep disturbing silence of my heart&lt;br /&gt;Whenever thine eyes look deeply into mine..&lt;br /&gt;Oh how thy maketh the entire me&lt;br /&gt;The smile, thy gestures&lt;br /&gt;Thy voice, 'tis music to my ears&lt;br /&gt;Oh if thou could only be mine...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ooshposh&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(written in 2000)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-1287054869206207953?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/1287054869206207953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=1287054869206207953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1287054869206207953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/1287054869206207953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/unrequited-ii.html' title='UNREQUITED II'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-903359501017521176</id><published>2008-04-23T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:12:03.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SWEET!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"I will make love my greatest weapon and none on who I call can defend against its force... My love will melt the hearts liken to the sun whose rays soften the coldest day..."&lt;/em&gt;- &lt;strong&gt;OG MANDINO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**************************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;about soulmates&lt;/em&gt;:  &lt;strong&gt;SOULMATES&lt;/strong&gt; aren't hatched..they just don't pop up out of nowhere...they grow..u make a connection, build a relationship, and&lt;br /&gt;then u realize, "this is my soulmate.."&lt;br /&gt;**************************************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"When i began to spend more time with you, it is almost as though i discovered an elixir i did not know i craved until i took a taste of&lt;br /&gt;it. And having had the craving awakened, i am now consumed by a dark dread of the possibility that i may not be able to fully assuage my thirst..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-903359501017521176?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/903359501017521176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=903359501017521176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/903359501017521176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/903359501017521176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/sweet.html' title='SWEET!'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-8149796645762494660</id><published>2008-04-23T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T10:08:38.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BED ETIQUETTE (FOR MEN)</title><content type='html'>I got this from a website I visit every now and then..This is just so funny, yet so true too!  Enjoy these tips guys...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) &lt;strong&gt;NOT KISSING FIRST&lt;/strong&gt; -  Avoiding her lips and diving straight for the erogenous zones makes herfeel like you're paying by the hour and trying to get your money's worth bycutting out nonessentials. A proper passionate kiss is the ultimate form offoreplay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) &lt;strong&gt;BLOWING TOO HARD IN HER EAR&lt;/strong&gt; - Admit it, some kid at school told you girls love this. Well, there's adifference between being erotic and blowing as if you're trying toextinguish the candles on your 50th birthday cake. That hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) &lt;strong&gt;NOT SHAVING&lt;/strong&gt; - You often forget you have a porcupine strapped to your chin which yourake repeatedly across your partner's face and thighs. When she turns her head from side to side, it's not passion, it's avoidance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) &lt;strong&gt;SQUEEZING HER BREASTS&lt;/strong&gt; - Most men act like a housewife testing a melon for ripeness when theyget their hand on a pair. Stroke, caress, and smooth them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) &lt;strong&gt;BITING HER NIPPLES&lt;/strong&gt; - Why do men fasten onto a woman's nipples, then clamp down like they'retrying to deflate her body via her breasts? Nipples are highly sensitive. They can't stand up to chewing. Lick and suck them gently. Flicking yourtongue across them is good. Pretending they're a doggie toy isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) &lt;strong&gt;TWIDDLING HER NIPPLES&lt;/strong&gt; - Stop doing that thing where you twiddle the nipples between finger andthumb like you're trying to find a radio station in a hilly area. Focus onthe whole breasts, not just the exclamation points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) &lt;strong&gt;IGNORING THE OTHER PARTS OF HER BODY&lt;/strong&gt; - A woman is not a highway with just three turnoffs: Breastville East andWest, and the Midtown Tunnel. There are vast areas of her body which you've ignored far too often as you go bombing straight into downtown Vagina. So start paying them some attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) &lt;strong&gt;GETTING THE HAND TRAPPED&lt;/strong&gt; - Poor manual dexterity in the underskirt region can result in tangledfingers and underpants. If you're going to be that aggressive, just askher to take the damn things off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) &lt;strong&gt;LEAVING HER A LITTLE PRESENT&lt;/strong&gt; - Condom disposal is the man's responsibility. You wore it, you store it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) &lt;strong&gt;ATTACKING THE CLITORIS&lt;/strong&gt; - Direct pressure is very unpleasant, so gently rotate your fingers along side of the clitoris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) &lt;strong&gt;STOPPING FOR A BREAK - &lt;/strong&gt;Women, unlike men, don't pick up where they left off. If you stop, they plummet back to square one very fast. If you can tell she's not there, keep&lt;br /&gt;going at all costs, numb jaw or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) &lt;strong&gt;UNDRESSING HER AWKWARDLY - &lt;/strong&gt;Women hate looking stupid, but stupid she will look when naked at thewaist with a sweater stuck over her head. Unwrap her like an elegantpresent, not a kid's toy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) &lt;strong&gt;GIVING HER A WEDGIE DURING FOREPLAY&lt;/strong&gt; - Stroking her gently through her panties can be very sexy. Pulling thematerial up between her thighs and yanking it back and forth is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) &lt;strong&gt;BEING OBSESSED WITH THE VAGINA&lt;/strong&gt; - Although most men can find the clitoris without maps, they stillbelieve that the vagina is where it's all at. No sooner is your hand down there than you're trying to stuff stolen banknotes up a chimney. This is okay in principle, but if you're not careful, it can hurt - so don't get carriedaway. It's best to pay more attention to her clitoris and the exterior ofher vagina at first, then gently slip a finger inside her and see if she likes it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) &lt;strong&gt;MASSAGING TOO ROUGHLY&lt;/strong&gt; - You're attempting to give her a sensual, relaxing massage to get her inthe mood. Hands and fingertips are okay; elbows and knees are not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) &lt;strong&gt;UNDRESSING PREMATURELY&lt;/strong&gt; - Don't force the issue by stripping before she's at least made some movetoward getting your stuff off, even if it's just undoing a couple ofbuttons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) &lt;strong&gt;TAKING YOUR PANTS OFF FIRST&lt;/strong&gt; - A man in socks and underpants is at his worst. Lose the socks first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) &lt;strong&gt;GOING TOO FAST&lt;/strong&gt; - When you get to the penis-in-vagina situation, the worst thing you cando is pump away like an industrial power tool - she'll soon feel like anassembly line worker made obsolete by your technology. Build up slowly,with clean, straight, regular thrusts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19) &lt;strong&gt;GOING TOO HARD&lt;/strong&gt; - If you bash your great triangular hip bones into her thigh or stomach,the pain is equal to two weeks of horseback riding concentrated into a fewseconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20) &lt;strong&gt;COMING TOO SOON&lt;/strong&gt; - Every man's fear. With reason. If you shoot before you see the whites of her eyes, make sure you have a backup plan to ensure her pleasure too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21) &lt;strong&gt;NOT COMING SOON ENOUGH&lt;/strong&gt; - It may appear to you that humping for an hour without climaxing is themark of a sex god, but to her it's more likely the mark of a numb vagina.At least buy some intriguing wall hangings, so she has something to hold herinterest while you're playing Marathon Man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22) &lt;strong&gt;ASKING IF SHE HAS COME&lt;/strong&gt; - You really ought to be able to tell. Most women make noise. But if youreally don't know, don't ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23) &lt;strong&gt;PERFORMING ORAL SEX TOO GENTLY&lt;/strong&gt; - Don't act like a giant cat at a saucer of milk. Get your whole mouthdown there, and concentrate on gently rotating or flicking your tongue on her clitoris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24) &lt;strong&gt;NUDGING HER HEAD DOWN&lt;/strong&gt; - Men persist in doing this until she's eyeball-to-penis, hoping that itwill lead very swiftly to mouth-to-penis. All women hate this. It's aboutthree steps from being dragged to a cave by their hair. If you want her touse her mouth, use yours; try talking seductively to her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25) &lt;strong&gt;NOT WARNING HER BEFORE YOU CLIMAX&lt;/strong&gt; - Sperm tastes like sea water mixed with egg white. Not everybody likesit (though some does). When she's performing oral sex, warn her before you come so she can do what's necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26) &lt;strong&gt;MOVING AROUND DURING FELLATIO&lt;/strong&gt; - Don't thrust. She'll do all the moving during fellatio. You just liethere. And don't grab her head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27) &lt;strong&gt;TAKING ETIQUETTE ADVICE FROM PORN MOVIES&lt;/strong&gt; - In X-rated movies, women seem to love it when men ejaculate overthem. In real life, it just means more laundry to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28) &lt;strong&gt;MAKING HER RIDE ON TOP FOR AGES&lt;/strong&gt; - Asking her to be on top is fine. Lying there grunting while she doesall the hard work is not (remember lasalle scandal??). Caress her gently, so that she doesn't feel quite so much like the captain of a schooner. And let her have a rest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29) &lt;strong&gt;ATTEMPTING ANAL SEX AND PRETENDING IT WAS AN ACCIDENT&lt;/strong&gt; - This is how men earn a reputation for not being able to followdirections. If you want to put it there, ask her first. And don't think that being drunk is an excuse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30) &lt;strong&gt;TAKING PICTURES&lt;/strong&gt; - When a man says, "Can I take a photo of you?" she'll hear thewords"__to show my buddies." At least let her have custody of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31) &lt;strong&gt;NOT BEING IMAGINATIVE ENOUGH&lt;/strong&gt; - Imagination is anything from drawing patterns on her back to pouringhoney on her and licking it off. Fruit, vegetables, ice and feathers are allhandy props; hot candle wax and permanent dye are a no no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32) &lt;strong&gt;SLAPPING YOUR STOMACH AGAINST HERS&lt;/strong&gt; - There is no less erotic noise. It's as sexy as a belching contest. (Question: What if both of you are quite "chubby"? hehehe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33) &lt;strong&gt;ARRANGING HER IN STUPID POSES&lt;/strong&gt; - If she wants to do advanced yoga in bed, fine, but unless she's aRomanian gymnast, don't get too ambitious. Ask yourself if you want a sexual partner with snapped hamstrings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34) &lt;strong&gt;LOOKING FOR HER PROSTATE&lt;/strong&gt; - Read this carefully: Anal stimulation feels good for men because theyhave a prostate. Women don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35) &lt;strong&gt;GIVING LOVE BITES&lt;/strong&gt; - It is highly erotic to exert some gentle suction on the sides of theneck, if you do it carefully. No woman wants to have to wear turtlenecks and jaunty scarves for weeks on end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36) &lt;strong&gt;BARKING INSTRUCTIONS&lt;/strong&gt; - Don't shout encouragement like a coach with a megaphone. It's not a bigturn-on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37) &lt;strong&gt;TALKING DIRTY&lt;/strong&gt; - It makes you sound like a lonely magazine editor calling a 1-900line.If she likes nasty talk, she'll let you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38) &lt;strong&gt;NOT CARING WHETHER SHE COMES&lt;/strong&gt; - You have to finish the job. Keep on trying until you get it right, andshe might even do the same for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39) &lt;strong&gt;SQUASHING HER&lt;/strong&gt; - Men generally weigh more than women, so if you lie on her a bit tooheavily, she will turn blue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40) &lt;strong&gt;THANKING HER&lt;/strong&gt; - Never thank a woman for having sex with you. Your bedroom is not a soup kitchen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-8149796645762494660?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/8149796645762494660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=8149796645762494660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8149796645762494660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/8149796645762494660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/bed-etiquette-for-men.html' title='BED ETIQUETTE (FOR MEN)'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-711221815421704660.post-3182613811584854644</id><published>2008-04-23T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T09:51:38.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EXPRESSIONS</title><content type='html'>(written on 12/14/05)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know im wrong..that i've assumed too much..you're NOT JUST INTO ME, now i end up falling flat on my face..i've got bruises all over me..i'm wounded and hurt..but it will be over soon..hopefully..but then again, you have no right to make me feel this way, you have no right to hurt me..you have no right to play with my heart..you have broken it many times already whilst i'm still trying to mend it..i don't know how much i can endure with this, but i will take it slow..my heart is still trying to breathe, but it is now dying a slow, painful death.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just a few lines that i once wrote a long time ago, which inspired me to write again..It somehow occurred to me that no matter how strong we think we are, love would make us vulnerable and somehow needy, to the point of being pathetic..the people who hurt us may or may not realize it, perhaps because they are dumb asses or just plain deficient in human sensibility..yet, even with the knowledge of them making a fool out of us, still, we torment ourselves into believing things that we want to believe -- in other words, we become IMBECILES...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me wonder sometimes why we let ourselves to be consumed by such idiosyncrasies..this thing called love, revered by most of humankind, would either make you deliriously happy or disgustingly demented, ergo the cliche 'madly in love.'&lt;br /&gt;perhaps we should play life's games without a heart..that way, we can go through it unscathed...&lt;br /&gt;hmmm..just a thought...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/711221815421704660-3182613811584854644?l=pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/feeds/3182613811584854644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=711221815421704660&amp;postID=3182613811584854644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3182613811584854644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/711221815421704660/posts/default/3182613811584854644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pseudoleebieme.blogspot.com/2008/04/expressions.html' title='EXPRESSIONS'/><author><name>pseudoleebieme</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15297629594523512391</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oQ24B_Dxzl8/Tqfwh9FsBzI/AAAAAAAAALU/TT-ZtKjTENY/s220/angkor2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
