<?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-7593582144209082417</id><updated>2012-02-11T19:09:08.781+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Magic and Miracles</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>192</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-8877201209754303079</id><published>2012-02-11T18:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-11T19:09:08.792+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Common reactor.</title><content type='html'>Back when nothing hurt, you snapped and told me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;”it’s always mind games with you!”&lt;/span&gt; I scowled back and said &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“as if it’s not the same with you!”&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a no brainer how careful I was in letting you in. For what it’s worth, you got through my head way before you did my heart. Perhaps you were never meant to reach the latter—all became too screwed up for me to handle that I freaked out, just so we remain precise, and ran away from you.  No, I’m pretty sure we both haven’t figured out the reasons. We’re both too selfish to do that, I think. I’d use the word scramble but I don’t want it to sound as though I left you hanging. I was sensible with you. My feelings always came first, but we both know I cared more for what could be felt than you did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running from you? that I’m not so sure you hate me for. When I think about it, it could have been the most convenient thing I’ve done for you. I like dealing with my own crap and well, you simply got a free pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You probably despise me for always dodging you, increasingly so these past few months, if I must say. And now I can’t even be bothered to respond right when you reach out to me. My actions are in contradiction, but I speak the truth when I say I’m trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just can’t seem to put it down. And honestly, right now I won’t even dare to find out why.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-8877201209754303079?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/8877201209754303079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2012/02/common-reactor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8877201209754303079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8877201209754303079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2012/02/common-reactor.html' title='Common reactor.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5144726699669556292</id><published>2012-02-08T09:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T09:41:50.811+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A different kind of fixing.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I learned something new about myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are well aware that people have the great ability to hurt you, to disappoint in levels no one would ever want. It happens and we have no option but to deal with the struggle of letting the pain go. We abhor it, but at the same time nurture it as if it’s a form of sustenance, a source of balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe it to be true when people say that our pain becomes a part of us, and among other things, I honestly think that is a beauty on its own. However, it doesn’t become us. It should not become us. There is a fine line and I do know that pain makes us do things, some we feel, and just might truly be, inevitable, but we must try our hardest to rise above it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved quite some time ago and on a normal circumstance, I would say “I fell in love and unfortunately it didn’t turn out the way that I hoped”, but I’m beginning to see that it did. Those who had their hearts broken usually find themselves scared to love again—“I loved so much I don’t think I’ll ever feel that way again, or worse manage to survive another heartbreak”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow things are different now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not trying to romanticize anything. It hurt. I did not fall and secretly kept heartbreak as a secondary goal (as much as my natural cynical side might object). Good grief, pain isn’t an ideal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My love was a great love. I wanted it to work out for us, but it didn’t.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That love has changed me in ways I never thought possible which is what I think makes it great. It made me very happy and very sad at the same time. Both thinking and not thinking are good and you must teach yourself to find the balance between the two. I learned that I can love for two people but it doesn’t mean that I always should. I learned that if you do decide to completely open yourself up to another, it is smart to take your time. The moment you feel that you have the slightest doubt, sit down and think about it. I saw how forgiving and accepting I can be, believe me I was surprised, too. I learned that if you stay true to your heart’s desires, the bigger your chances are of walking away without regrets. I now know that once a love begins to change you, you must be fully committed to it and to the person you are with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day you wake up feeling like someone you don’t know is the day you need to make a choice. I learned the hard way but timing can just be everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falling in love is perhaps one of the best experiences anyone could ever have in his or her lifetime. You will never be the same person you were when you first realized that you love somebody. All of this can be good if you let them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I saw that I do not harbor guilt and anger. It’s not easy and to be fair, I suppose it depends on how events played out, regardless I do know that allowing these negative emotions to govern your life won’t benefit anyone, especially yourself. If anything, it will only make you grumpy, perpetually disappointed and stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It pays to have the bigger heart. Although it is likely to end up being the one hurting more, in the long run you will realize that not everyone is blessed with the delicate ability to love immensely without remorse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So instead, I now say that when the universe wills me to love again, I look forward to it. That day when someone will come into my life and make me feel the same way if not exceed it, to once again realize that I have so much love to give and more things to learn about myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5144726699669556292?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5144726699669556292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2012/02/different-kind-of-fixing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5144726699669556292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5144726699669556292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2012/02/different-kind-of-fixing.html' title='A different kind of fixing.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-6316653784034925909</id><published>2012-01-10T12:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T12:44:02.255+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just to keep it :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fromdatestodiapers.com/50-rules-for-dads-of-daughters"&gt;RULES FOR DADS OF DAUGHTERS&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A must read for daddies and daughters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-6316653784034925909?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/6316653784034925909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2012/01/just-to-keep-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6316653784034925909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6316653784034925909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2012/01/just-to-keep-it.html' title='Just to keep it :)'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-1353156021077978674</id><published>2011-12-31T01:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T11:28:49.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Later, again.</title><content type='html'>Currently on my last I’ll-stay-up-until-the-wee-hours-of-the-morning-then-wake-up-right-before-lunch-ooh-perfect-things-while-on-holiday for the year. To be honest, the holidays were kind of disappointing. Now I’m not sure if this is normal, but it seems to be among yuppies or at least for those really working on trying to figure out what to do with their lives, to get that serving of blues right before the year finishes. I won’t lie, there were three consecutive days when I just cooped out without a word because I was caught smack in between panic/fear and some good faith in possibilities. Champagne was my savior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the past year, I realized that I was a go-getter in so many ways that I’m just darn proud. I was out there and I was doing! and although I did not exactly get everything that I went for, the pitches were thrown, gave it my best hit and now I’m ending the year feeling fantastic because it was a home run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned a lot about myself this year. That really is the exchange when you simply decide to face life head on. Backing down? What on earth is that. I found myself doing things, wholeheartedly I must say, that I never thought I would. It’s funny when I recall how I gave so much of myself in a year and yet, I feel that I have gained more than ever. Let us not get too giddy though, it wasn’t a smooth ride. Rain checks, striking out — awful days and nights, times when you feel horrible and drowning seemed interesting— all part of the package. My wallet and bank accounts were unfortunate victims, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I’m trying to say here is that life is one crazy force, and if you just let it carry you, you just might find yourself in a place where you’ll feel spot on, as though it was just waiting for you to arrive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew that this would turn out to be a year end entry. Up until its last day, this year just won’t quit surprising me. I can’t say I’m not smirking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-1353156021077978674?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/1353156021077978674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/12/later-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1353156021077978674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1353156021077978674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/12/later-again.html' title='Later, again.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7051037504384589418</id><published>2011-12-29T20:02:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T20:12:41.882+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One hundred eighty eight.</title><content type='html'>188 drafts, to say that I have been stuck in a rut would just be absolute rubbish. With all honesty, I have no idea how to draw this out of my system, whatever this is, and put it into writing. I will be honest and say that there will be plenty, if not an avalanche, of unsteady entries. All the same, I’m determined. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So there has been an ongoing purge. I stopped myself from displaying too much emotions for the sake of…self-preservation. Now I just realized how crazy that comes off. Writing has always given me comfort, a form of release I’ve always cherished—hence what was in your head to take on a choice that inhibited you from doing the things you love, because you weren’t sure how to feel, since frankly you don’t know how else to coin it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course that wasn’t the whole story. You were happy, over the moon happy. It was well worth it. And that’s why you took the time off from writing, you chose to feel and live, solely. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it’s not so easy to write when you’re happy. Not because you have less feelings or feelings about those feelings, or because your happy feelings are any less worthy of being written about than your sad feelings, but simply because being happy makes you want to do rather than respond. Being happy makes you want to go out and enjoy your happiness — there’s just no incentive for you to be crouching in half darkness over your notebook or laptop, muttering sinisterly and chain smoking for days on end without showering when you’re happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it is that’s making you happy, you just want to enjoy it — you certainly don’t want to hole yourself up in a dank, windowless room writing moving things about your feelings, you want to be out FEELING THEM. You don’t want to talk; you want to do. You don’t want to reflect; you want to be. So it’s harder, much harder, to write when you’re happy. You know people want to read about your happiness, that yes, people will relate, just as they relate to your sadness. And you know that when you’re happy, you’ll rush through whatever it is you’re writing anyway, because you just want to thrust open a window looking down over a busy street and sing out to the crowd before you race down into the throng to embrace whatever it is that is making you so deliriously, distractingly, overwhelmingly happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/why-its-harder-to-write-when-youre-happy/"&gt;SOURCE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/why-its-harder-to-write-when-youre-happy/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this an attempt to be cryptic in saying that I’m in a sorry state? I won’t sugarcoat, it’s slightly shameful to have gone back to writing only because I’m at a tipping point. I’m not exactly sure how I got here but it’s more than true to say that sadness triggers analysis, plus we’ve got less than a week left for 2011. Nope, the hormonal rage isn’t making this any lighter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well who knows with these magnificent combinations, they sometimes say the mad ones do get all the glory at the end. I mean, to justify all the extra alloted shit, there must be something a bit more at the finish line.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7051037504384589418?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7051037504384589418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-hundred-eighty-eight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7051037504384589418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7051037504384589418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-hundred-eighty-eight.html' title='One hundred eighty eight.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-726171034139201690</id><published>2011-12-04T10:48:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T11:16:42.537+08:00</updated><title type='text'>CCF's focus on the Family</title><content type='html'>I love my family even if it is dysfunctional sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father was a man of principles and wisdom. When I was younger his form of discipline was his belt. When I got older it became one on one discourses. Whether it be spanking or talking, every single session would end with him praying then hugging me. So even if I felt bad or guilty, I knew I was very much loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom on the other hand had a completely different strategy because she has super powers – Ultra Pinch and Mega Eyes. Whenever I do something bad, she’d instantly pinch any part of my body her fingers could reach. This ultra pinches are long and hard, I find myself repenting for present, past and future sins. She fires the Mega Eyes when I commit a booboo and we are in public company. She’d stare at me with her mega round unblinking eyes and I’d know I was in big trouble. All her power exhibitions taught me a lot about manners and respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sisters would be the same siblings I’d pick if I were to live another life. Yes, we do fight a lot but the love my parents bonded us with is greater than all our misunderstandings put together. There is no such thing as a perfect family. But there can always be a perfectly loved family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom and dad raised us in just two ways: in the FEAR of God and with the LOVE of God. Everything else stemmed out from that. I just finished listening and watching CCF’s archived sermon series about FAMILY. As I listened to Ptr. Peter Tanchi I remembered my dad and how he not only preached the same Biblical principles but how he modeled them in our family life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am personally very picky with sermons and I am sharing this because a lot of us have the same desires: to be a better parent, be a better son or daughter, raise exceptional kids or start a happy family. I took the pains of putting these together because I know, if one spends just an hour of a busy day and listen to what God has to say, lives will be changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The videos/audios can be an hour long so I suggest you take time and watch one sermon a week or a day. Click on the photo to go to the link.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/focus-on-the-family/"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_TsMX_m3uUk/TtrgmeuOS_I/AAAAAAAAAWc/6mwP8IyayXA/s400/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682100831567891442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/heart-parenting/"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 223px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1rzz4KE5BaE/Ttrgmj9wytI/AAAAAAAAAWo/J5tMfEO1p4c/s400/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682100832975243986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/build-positive-relationship/"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 221px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wYQETq3vQVM/Ttrgmw-d_4I/AAAAAAAAAW0/mV0xO2grRoA/s400/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682100836467867522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/teach-intentionally/"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 223px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iSEdbkEiIbU/TtrgnOWuz2I/AAAAAAAAAXA/pB7bsOCnT0o/s400/4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682100844354260834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/teach-intentionally-part-2/"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 218px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lNPNxjd5CAI/TtrgnSI4XzI/AAAAAAAAAXI/I8ETd-XQln0/s400/5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682100845369909042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/train-your-children/"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 223px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8F9BYwlDipE/TtrhOkMx4II/AAAAAAAAAXY/HI4BrpJtlXA/s400/6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682101520232996994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/how-to-treat-family/"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 219px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RhT0VzP1mEg/TtrhO9bIVtI/AAAAAAAAAXk/SpUcMI5isFU/s400/7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682101527004075730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a summary:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* &lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/focus-on-the-family/"&gt;Focus on the Family&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/heart-parenting/"&gt;Heart Parenting&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/build-positive-relationship/"&gt;Build Positive Relationships&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/teach-intentionally/"&gt;Teach Intentionally Part I&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/teach-intentionally-part-2/"&gt;Teach Intentionally Part II&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/train-your-children/"&gt;Train Your Children&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;a href="http://www.ccf.org.ph/how-to-treat-family/"&gt;How to Treat Family Members&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The quality of the relationship parents cultivate with their children  determines the weight of their influence. We only have one life and it  is too short for trial and error.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-726171034139201690?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/726171034139201690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/12/ccfs-focus-on-family.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/726171034139201690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/726171034139201690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/12/ccfs-focus-on-family.html' title='CCF&apos;s focus on the Family'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_TsMX_m3uUk/TtrgmeuOS_I/AAAAAAAAAWc/6mwP8IyayXA/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-3364729178247986198</id><published>2011-09-26T12:46:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-26T12:49:07.853+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I solemnly swear that I am still alive</title><content type='html'>...but I am too busy with school and other requirements. Two more weeks till final exams and I have to cram almost everything! Plus, the weatherrr! Its so holiday-ish that studying has been a struggle lately. I still just want to tell stories about my life though. Be back on sembreak! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-3364729178247986198?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/3364729178247986198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-solemnly-swear-that-i-am-still-alive.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3364729178247986198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3364729178247986198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-solemnly-swear-that-i-am-still-alive.html' title='I solemnly swear that I am still alive'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5967221367374584247</id><published>2011-08-28T22:23:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T22:40:24.554+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So, yeah.</title><content type='html'>I think I should stop applying for work just for the sake of "applying" without the real intention of accepting the work in case I get accepted.  I don't know what's wrong with me that whenever a friend (or an acquaintance) would tell me that something is hiring blah blah blah, I would send in my resume without the hesitation (yeah, sue me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday, while I was making a reaction paper for one of my subjects, I received a call from a company whom I submitted my resume few months back. It wasn't really the ideal company I wanted to work with in the near future but mind you, the starting pay was so good and if I only don't have school, I would accept the job right away. However, my school works were so demanding that I have to decline the job offer and should find a nice time to tell them. So when they told me that I will be assigned to Manila, I just have to tell them that I cannot accept the job because I don't want to in Manila, blah blah blah and it would have been better if only I'll be in Iloilo blah blah blah. In the end, at least I get to experience (again) being interviewed. Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah. I think I really should stop doing it. My name might be in the hot-list of those applicants which should not be hired or something and they might submit it to their sister company in which I might be connected with soon in case I would really really wanted a job. Haha. So much for ruining my name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise, I have to stop it. Please, remind me that I should stop it, okay? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5967221367374584247?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5967221367374584247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/08/so-yeah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5967221367374584247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5967221367374584247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/08/so-yeah.html' title='So, yeah.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5905029209178221757</id><published>2011-08-10T20:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T20:59:46.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Whom It May Concern</title><content type='html'>I think you love someone when their pain is your pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their darted glance, the brief terror in their eyes; it strikes you right in the chest. It punctures your air supply until it stings and the sting becomes a dull ache and the dull ache grows into a burn and the thud of your heart’s response resounds in your mouth. Your eyes scan their face – their face, their beautiful face – darting over a landscape you thought you knew. You see them as if for the first time, in a long time. My darling, how you have changed! And you are hurting, did I not see the hurt before? Their terrific suffering so magnified. Immature problems that have consumed you for weeks discolor and recede. Bleached. They are insignificant to the hurt that is radiating from someone you love. The rings around their eyes are now your rings. Their bloodshot eyes your bloodshot eyes. Their furrowed brow, their consternation, mirrored in your face. Their tears, hidden or otherwise, you taste on your lips. Their distress, their utter fragility, exposing itself so clearly now, just in that inner eyebrow area. And… in how their smile fails to reach themselves. How have I smiled today? Knowing you were here like this. Blank eyes. Looking through you, past you, because they don’t have time for you now, they can’t have time for you. … You should have had time for them before. You should have had time for them before. Angry repetitions in your head. You should have had some time, just some time. You’ve been busy. You’ve been busy?! “I’ve been… busy.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What were you doing, what were we doing that we got here? Where was I, when this happened? I remember seeing you, I remember having a good enough time. I don’t remember piecing together the obvious parts. Until now. Now, when every realization is exploding right next to my face, one after another, right around my temples. My eyes flicker with each burst semblance of a better life. Each more shocking, perplexing. And yet, no, what am I saying, not at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muffling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if I am being layered with thick blankets of cotton wool. Carefully laid upon me, one after another. And I am drawing my knees to my chest and I am laying my head on my hands and I’m collapsing softly, ever so softly, into a cotton wool lasagna cocoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did we get here?! My naiveté somehow remains steadfast into my adult years. I thought we were doing relatively well. Relatively I say, meaning the top of the pile of shit we had created for ourselves. Was I really so self-absorbed that I saw none of yours? I was too busy waiting for someone to save me that I didn’t see you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t see you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m sorry. I’m sorry I disappeared inside myself. For so long, it seems. I considered you to be on top of things. What a ridiculous expectation, it seems now. I had such high standards of you. Once, for myself too. … Tell me something, before I go, am I overreacting? Is this, perhaps, how it is? How every one is? Do we all end up like this, more or less? Maybe this is the daily round. Maybe the time has come to smother my childhood ideals; they were misleading. Maybe – maybe – we are not doing too badly on the spectrum of human chaos. The explosions come thick and fast and too often to not convince me that we have all hit a rather bleak trajectory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But. No. I am too proud to let this be your story. Because you, because we, cannot not get better. We have to get better. You have to get better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a phase, just a phase, just a phase. It will sort itself out. It will get better. I will get better. We will get better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are we always so tired? Change is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5905029209178221757?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5905029209178221757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/08/to-whom-it-may-concern.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5905029209178221757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5905029209178221757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/08/to-whom-it-may-concern.html' title='To Whom It May Concern'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-1341268683891248476</id><published>2011-08-09T22:23:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T22:43:54.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't really comprehend.</title><content type='html'>You know what sucks? It's when the people who have so much goodness in them are the ones who get to suffer the most. They're the ones who's been robbed, they're the ones who's been attempted to be murdered, they're the one who are sick. And they're not just sick, it's the worst of the worst--they're the ones who have cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was having dinner with my friends when my friend Joh texted me this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Naa mn di si lez dri noh? hehe"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know Lez was already here so I replied:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Really??? I didnt know hahaha wala ko bi gareply sa mga msgs niya hehe"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which he replied:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"haha why not? anyway na notice lng nko sa dp niya then while reading the commnts ana sya naa dri tas iya kuya kay ga session daw sa hospital."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the message that struck me. Alb's in the hospital. Having session. I know its not just an ordinary session, that session was really something. After reading Joh's reply, I texted Leza immediately (I wasn't expecting a reply because I don't know if Leza's still using the same number so I was just hoping that she would reply or something) then she did and her reply was something like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Yes nang, session. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He has cancer&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to react. I was reading her reply three, four, five times just to make sure its right. Wow, Alb has cancer. I cannot find the strength to ask Lez what kind of cancer or what stage because her reply might break me. I don't know what I'm going to do if I have to find out the specifics of the cancer what I know as of now is that he's having his chemo session and well, he has cancer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's so unfair. Two year ago, Tito Al (Alb's dad) was also diagnosed with cancer but because of the early detection, they were able to stop the spread of cancer cells. Then now, Alb. They're only a family of four, and two of them had cancer. Why is life so unfair?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tito Al was one of the kindest person that I know. He's so kind and he's so sweet and well, we got along really well. When Alb and I were still together, Tito Al would always remind me that if ever I would take up law, I should ask advice from him and whatsoever. Those times when Tito Al had cancer, he was very hopeful, he was very positive, and good thing, he succumb to it. And now, Alb. Alb was good. He's also kind and very understanding. I really don't get these things. Why do good people always have to suffer? They don't deserve to have this kind of life cos for all I know, they deserve something better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alb having cancer was really news for me. I hope his chemo will work and he'll be fine in no time. I hope he'll be strong. Well, he must be strong. For his wife and for his kid. He has to be strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to do but what I can do for now is just pray for him and his recovery. Also, if you're reading this, please help me pray for him too :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-1341268683891248476?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/1341268683891248476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-cant-really-comprehend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1341268683891248476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1341268683891248476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-cant-really-comprehend.html' title='I can&apos;t really comprehend.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-3398419697034763553</id><published>2011-08-04T15:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T15:48:57.237+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deleted.</title><content type='html'>So, after 2 years of using microblogging sites like Twitter and Plurk, I decided to delete it today. I have actually been thinking of deleting it a week ago but I thought perhaps I would still want to know some update from my friends. But now, I decided that I should just delete it and well, I did. (yay!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its just that...I don't know. Even though I really want to know what's happening with my friends from different places, I know that I'll still be able to contact them since I have their cellphone numbers and e-mail addresses. I think I have been sharing too much information in my tweets and etc so better delete it nalang. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those accounts have been with me for two years, more or less. I rant there and everything. I have to backread my plurks and tweets for two hours before really deleting it. There are memories in it, yes but sometimes, memories should not be shared to everyone but just to yourself, especially good memories. Its not selfishness, its just...i think its about time that I dont share stuff what I have been thinking that instant or what is happening to me at that instant. What I did was for the better, I guess :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't promise that I'll update this blog like everyday but I promise that whatever happens, I'll still stick to this blog. This has been with me through thick and thin so its kind of unfair if I also get to put down this one. CHOS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think I'll end here. I still have to study again :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-3398419697034763553?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/3398419697034763553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/08/deleted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3398419697034763553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3398419697034763553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/08/deleted.html' title='Deleted.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7260910279008190176</id><published>2011-08-02T14:59:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T16:13:23.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SURVEY :P</title><content type='html'>I'm not in the mood to study thus I just wanted to do this. HAHAHA :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Your ex texted you and wanted you back. Would you take him/her back?- &lt;strong&gt;NO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Has anyone told you “forever and ever” then left?-&lt;strong&gt;YES :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Your relationship status?- &lt;strong&gt;SINGLE AND HAPPY! (OH BONGGA!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Where did you meet your crush(es)?- &lt;strong&gt;SCHOOL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have you ever lost a close friend?- &lt;strong&gt;YES&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you smoke weed regularly?- &lt;strong&gt;NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Think back to the beginning of 2011. Are you still dating the same person?- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;IM NOT DATING ANYONE :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Would you parents be mad if you were in a relationship?-&lt;strong&gt;NO. They'll really be happy, I guess :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;When was the last time you really laughed?-&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; SUNDAY? :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Something is wrong. First guy you turn to?-&lt;strong&gt; VON&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;First girl you’d turn to? &lt;strong&gt;JOY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is there anyone who doesn’t like you because of something you did?- &lt;strong&gt;IDK AND IDC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Angry at anyone?-&lt;strong&gt; NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;What’s stopping you from going for the person you like?- &lt;strong&gt;CIRCUMSTANCES :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;When was the last time you cried really hard?-&lt;strong&gt;WEEK AGO :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is there anyone you would do anything for?-&lt;strong&gt; FAMILY :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Who was the last person you talked to for more than 10 minutes on the phone?-&lt;strong&gt; MOM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;What is your favorite song?-&lt;strong&gt; You're A God by VH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you like Red Bull?-  &lt;strong&gt;NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;How many people can you tell just about everything to?-&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I have lots. Am I supposed to enumerate them? O.o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have you ever wished on a shooting star?-&lt;strong&gt; YES&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Does the last person you held hands with mean something to you?- &lt;strong&gt;HAHAHA NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Describe yourself in one word.&lt;strong&gt; AWESOME! Lol Barney Stinson much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you have anything that belongs to your ex?-&lt;strong&gt;YES. He don't want to get it eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Can you honestly say you’ve had a sleepover with the opposite gender?-&lt;strong&gt; YEZ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you rebound?-&lt;strong&gt; Are we thinking of the same thing here? No. Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ever cheated on someone?-&lt;strong&gt; No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;What would you do if you found out the person you like was in a relationship?&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; -Its actually given that he's in a relationship. Sooo, I don't know. Haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you act differently around the person you like?-&lt;strong&gt; No. Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Honestly, what guy’s number do you have memorized?-&lt;strong&gt; My dad's haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is it hard to make you laugh?-&lt;strong&gt;NO. I laugh over the smallest things :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Who was the last person to make you mad?-&lt;strong&gt;JOHNNY CHAN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you think your last ex will eventually want to be with you again?-&lt;strong&gt; No Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have you ever fallen asleep in someone’s arms?-&lt;strong&gt; Yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Has anyone ever called you scrumptious before?-&lt;strong&gt; NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Would you like to put a night on repeat and live it forever?-&lt;strong&gt; YES :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you have a best friend that knows you inside and out?&lt;strong&gt;-Yes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is your best friend a slut?-&lt;strong&gt; In my own definition of slut, No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is hard drugs a turn off?-&lt;strong&gt; YEAAAH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Are you happy with life right now?-&lt;strong&gt; Yes :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Are you still in love with your ex?-&lt;strong&gt; Nope na :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Are you still in love with your ex?-&lt;strong&gt;Hahaha UNLI? Paulit ulit? :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have you ever been the “other person” in a relationship?-&lt;strong&gt; Fortunately wala pa! Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have you ever had your heart broken?-&lt;strong&gt; Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have you ever broken someone’s heart?-&lt;strong&gt; NO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is there anybody you’re really disappointed in?-&lt;strong&gt; YES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Where is your best friend?-&lt;strong&gt; In my heart. Chos! Sa Mindanao Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;Something you’re happy about?-&lt;strong&gt; Family, friends and friends :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;p&gt;How is your heart lately?-&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Perfectly okay :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Are you available?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are there any stressful situations in your life?&lt;br /&gt;Not really :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you go to the bathroom with the door open or closed?&lt;br /&gt;Closed haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there someone you don't ever want to be out of your life?&lt;br /&gt;Yeaah..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did you get your last bruise from?&lt;br /&gt;Playing volleyball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you currently hearing right now?&lt;br /&gt;Music from the radio :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone crushing on you?&lt;br /&gt;Not that i know of :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone ever given you roses?&lt;br /&gt;Yezzir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you looking forward to?&lt;br /&gt;Vacation!!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you worry your last ex will move on &amp;amp; be happier with another person?&lt;br /&gt;Nope! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you really happy or are you just saying that?&lt;br /&gt;I am really happy haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did you last hold hands with someone?&lt;br /&gt;Hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were kicked out of your current residence, whom would you call?&lt;br /&gt;Tita Pie :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think relationships are hard?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, mejo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was the last reason that you CRIED?&lt;br /&gt;I was watching a movie!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you a loud person?&lt;br /&gt;No :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When was the last time you slept on the floor?&lt;br /&gt;Errrr when I was at Krista's place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you have a valentine next year?&lt;br /&gt;Let's see :) But I guess no :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did your parents do drugs when they were younger?&lt;br /&gt;NO :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are there framed pictures from your parents wedding in your house?&lt;br /&gt;Yes :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you hate the last person you kissed?&lt;br /&gt;No because hate is such a strong word&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you accidentally sent a text to the wrong person?&lt;br /&gt;Yes and believe me it was so embarassing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something you really want right now?&lt;br /&gt;Blueberry cheesecake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there someone you want back in your life right this moment?&lt;br /&gt;No, he was out of my life for a reason :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you need to say anything to someone?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you like to make the first move?&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHA If dared, yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you honestly say that things are running smoothly for you?&lt;br /&gt;Kind of :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever hang out with someone of the opposite sex?&lt;br /&gt;Yes of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was the last person you cried in front of?&lt;br /&gt;BOSS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was the best thing that happened to you this year?&lt;br /&gt;The year's not yet ending so I think so far its last summer :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could go back 8 months and change something would you?&lt;br /&gt;Ohmy. I think no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you feel about your relationship status?&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm just okay :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any summer plans for 2012?&lt;br /&gt;Go to US to visit some friends! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In whose arms do you feel safest in?&lt;br /&gt;Dad's :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you get nervous when someone is angry and yelling around you?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, sometimes I cry hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What places have you been to today?&lt;br /&gt;Uhm, just here at home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about the last compliment you received, what was it on?&lt;br /&gt;About my photography&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently what are you wearing?&lt;br /&gt;Shirt and shorts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who did you last make plans with?&lt;br /&gt;My cousins :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What smell reminds you most of summer?&lt;br /&gt;IDK hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could you ever be friends with someone who hurt you before?&lt;br /&gt;Of course, forgive and forget di ba?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who are you more like your mom or your dad [emotionally]?&lt;br /&gt;Mom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When in a car and your at a stop light or something, do you look at people around you?&lt;br /&gt;Nope :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was the last person you said "i love you" to?&lt;br /&gt;Soulie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever ruined your chances of getting with someone?&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha i dont know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where were you the last time you saw a cute member of the opposite sex?&lt;br /&gt;Uhhhh school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you stand up for someone?&lt;br /&gt;Ofcourse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's one job you could never see yourself pursuing, why?&lt;br /&gt;Uhm being an engineer? Cos I really dont understand anything about eng'g haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many friends have you had move away in your lifetime?&lt;br /&gt;Lots&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you partake in singing while in the car or driving?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, its so much fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where's the first place you would go right now if you were to try and get a job?&lt;br /&gt;I don't know..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you friends with anyone who does things that you don't agree with or know that you would never do?&lt;br /&gt;Yes :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A large group of friends or one or two best friends?&lt;br /&gt;The latter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think of people who drink and smoke all the time?&lt;br /&gt;As long as its responsible drinking and smoking, I don't have a problem with it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think of the high school you attend/attended, what sports was your school recognized for?&lt;br /&gt;Is jackstone considered a sport? Hahahaha! Uhm basket and volleyball&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the worst fight that you've heard of happening at your high school?&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have photos up around your room, of who?&lt;br /&gt;My friends :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it comes down to it, are you able to filter/control your emotions?&lt;br /&gt;I can control my emotions, yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long have you had feelings for the person you currently are interested in?&lt;br /&gt;Turning 5 months on the 23rd :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's something you could tell someone that you know they wouldn't believe just by looking at you?&lt;br /&gt;That I can program? Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was the last person to smoke a cigarette in your presence?&lt;br /&gt;I forgot :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last person to suggest making plans with you?&lt;br /&gt;Cousins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...What do they consist of?&lt;br /&gt;Trip abroad (well, specifically Brazil pft)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you see anything changing in the near future?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. MY LAST NAME! HAHAHAHAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there anything you need to get to planning for?&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Our Alumni Homecoming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's something your not looking forward to that's coming up?&lt;br /&gt;Exams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever said something and then regretted saying it after?&lt;br /&gt;Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just walked in on your best friend having sex, what do you do?&lt;br /&gt;Move back and close the door haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has a guy sat on your bed before?&lt;br /&gt;Yeaah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How’s your heart lately?&lt;br /&gt;Never better :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you afraid to grow up?&lt;br /&gt;Nah, not really. But i think I'm afraid of responsibilities?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the most important part of a relationship in your opinion?&lt;br /&gt;What are the parts of a relationship??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have a best friend?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last phone conversation over 5 minutes was with?&lt;br /&gt;Dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will tomorrow be a good day?&lt;br /&gt;I hope so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you be in a relationship three months from now?&lt;br /&gt;I don't know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you sober?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you currently have a hickey?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you have any brothers?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you a heavy sleeper?&lt;br /&gt;Yeaaah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was the last person to blow you a kiss?&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahaha I'd rather not answer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want to see anyone right now?&lt;br /&gt;Yes my mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who'd you last tell a secret to?&lt;br /&gt;Joy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you ever get a tattoo?&lt;br /&gt;Yes i guess :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You want to get married?&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really sure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you talked to a complete jerk today?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you honestly say you're okay right now?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever seen the last person you texted naked?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will tomorrow be better than today?&lt;br /&gt;I hope so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you looking forward to?&lt;br /&gt;Vacation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you listening to music?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you ever take an ex back?&lt;br /&gt;NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who was last to cook for you?&lt;br /&gt;BOSS! NOMNOMNOM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever not been able to get someone off of your mind?&lt;br /&gt;Yeaah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you like your life as of now?&lt;br /&gt;As of now? yes :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?&lt;br /&gt;Yes naman :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you kiss anyone the past week?&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you get along with girls?&lt;br /&gt;Of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is a best friend/ boyfriend/girlfriend or ex pissing you off at the moment?&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha good thing none&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you on medication for anything?&lt;br /&gt;Yes for my nerves shiz and for my nosebleeding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When was the last time you were told you were cute?&lt;br /&gt;IDK hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is the last person you kissed mad at you?&lt;br /&gt;I hope not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is on your wrists right now?&lt;br /&gt;Bracelet :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there anyone you trust 100%?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What’s one thing you do when you're mad?&lt;br /&gt;Read a good book :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you like where you live?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you listening to right now?&lt;br /&gt;Music Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did anyone yell at you today?&lt;br /&gt;Nooo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you happier now or three months ago?&lt;br /&gt;Three months ago is summer time so yes, I was happier three months ago :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had a best friend who was of the opposite sex?&lt;br /&gt;Of course :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has an ex said they love you in the last week?&lt;br /&gt;No hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seen an ex recently?&lt;br /&gt;Nope :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever felt like you weren’t good enough?&lt;br /&gt;ALL.THE.TIME&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7260910279008190176?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7260910279008190176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/08/survey-p.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7260910279008190176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7260910279008190176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/08/survey-p.html' title='SURVEY :P'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-1964816592223157876</id><published>2011-07-30T19:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T19:41:03.646+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alam mo yun?</title><content type='html'>Yung feeling na katatapos lang ng exams at wala kang ibang gustong gawin kundi matulog na matulog lang kasi you've been missing on your sleep for the past 4 days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na binigay mo na lahat ng best mo pero feeling mo kulang parin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na hindi mo alam kung matutuwa o malulungkot ka kasi one of your students end up taking Physics degree because of you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na sobrang naguguluhan ka kasi hindi mo alam kung ano ang tamang gawin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na you're not supposed to care but you feel so guilty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na masaya ka para sa kaibigan mo pero matagal mo nang gustong sabihin na she actually deserves someone better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na alam mong isang araw, bigla nalang mawawala lahat ng pinaghirapan mo kasi you've been prioritizing the wrong things?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na parang hindi mo na kilala kung sino sino ang mga kaibigan mo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na inggit kasi makakapunta ng Brazil ang mga pinsan mo at hindi ka kasama?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na gusto mong patayin ang taong umaabuso sa kaibigan mo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na nalaman mong nag chechemotherapy na pala ang kaibigan mo at hindi mo man lang makumusta kasi ayaw niyang kumausap sa mga kaibigan niya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na isa-isang nawawala ang mga taong mahahalaga sa'yo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na gusto mong yakapin ang pinakamatalik mong kaibigan nung tumawag siya at umiiyak sa telepono?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na nararamdaman mo pag nakikita mong masaya ang taong mahal mo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung feeling na gusto mo nang umiyak kasi sobrang sobrang tahimik ng paligid?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At yung feeling na pinagkakatiwalaan ka ng magulang mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ALAM MO BA YUNG FEELINGS NA YUN?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-1964816592223157876?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/1964816592223157876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/alam-mo-yun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1964816592223157876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1964816592223157876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/alam-mo-yun.html' title='Alam mo yun?'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-8716804681845553191</id><published>2011-07-21T10:44:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T11:04:08.327+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why you you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I’m supposed to write about these years ago but I keep on forgetting because it wasn’t really an issue. Then now, it became an issue once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only have few guy friends but these guys are the best guy friends that I ever had. I can tell them everything and anything under the sun, I can be silly with them, play games with them and well, just do anything fun with them. Guys are complicated creatures but when you have them as friends, no regrets. Aside from having brothers, you also have a “spy” on the so-called guy world and mind you. Your guy friends protect your heart from getting hurt so they always give you advice to save you from heart ache. And most of the time, what they say to you are always right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought my friendship with these guys will actually last for long but sadly, it wasn’t. Unfortunately, a story’s boring if there’s no antagonist. So in this story, the antagonist comes in the form of the girlfriend. Okay, not just girlfriend but THE OVERPROTECTIVE girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;These girls are the girls who want their boyfriends’ lives to revolve only around them. Thus, their boyfriends should not be texting (or calling or communicating) with other girls except her, their boyfriends should delete good girl friends from their friends’ list, etc. To make things simple, these girlfriends wanted their boyfriends to stop communicating with their good girl friends, or simply, to stop being their friend, which is unfair, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I already lost two good guy friends and I’m now currently losing a third guy friend, and that’s because of these girls who cannot trust their man. My friends were just being good boyfriends, not wanting their girlfriends to feel bad for them. I understand them, really. I understand that their girlfriend means much more than girl friends, thus its okay but what I don’t understand are these girls who cannot seem to grow up.  Probably these girls don’t know that girls and guys CAN just be friends without feelings for each other. But whatever goes, its still not normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I woke up from a very bad dream. It was the first time for so long that I cried upon waking up. In my dream, I was with my friend Doug. We were just talking about random stuff and everything and he keeps on telling me that he missed me so much and that he was sorry for everything that he did. I keep on telling him that it’s okay and that he should not be blaming himself for what happened. Then eventually, there was a change of scenery, Doug’s mom, Tita Lea was crying and I was with her sister, Karla. Karla was crying as well. I asked Karla what’s wrong, then she told me Doug was been in a coma for almost a year and today they decided to just let him go, that is to remove the machines attaching to him, I think it’s called mercy killing—euthanasia. Karla asked me where I have been those whole time, why was I not visiting Doug and everything, I cannot find answers to her questions so I just cried instead. And then from there, I saw Doug’s body. It was almost the same except that he’s pale and sad. After which, I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hours after waking up, I decided to check on Doug’s profile and found out that he’s already in the Navy. Graduated in PMA last 2009 and proceeded with the Navy. He looks happy in his photos, and well, perfectly okay. While browsing through his photos, I found out that he’s still together with his girlfriend, the girlfriend who forbade him to communicate with me and the rest of Doug’s girl friends. They seem happy together though. I checked my calendar and saw that it’s July 20th. I clicked on Doug’s message box and started typing a message. I don’t care if his girlfriend will get angry that I messaged her boyfriend. It’s been 5 years since I last communicated with him. For the first time in five years, I messaged him and wished him well on his birthday today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that’s the reason why I dreamt of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Douggie, wherever you are now, always remember that I am and will always be so proud of you. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-8716804681845553191?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/8716804681845553191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/screw-girls-who-cannot-trust-their-man.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8716804681845553191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8716804681845553191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/screw-girls-who-cannot-trust-their-man.html' title='Why you you.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-360808290117767565</id><published>2011-07-18T12:34:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T13:33:00.827+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"She's so nice,</title><content type='html'>...I wonder how she fake it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's something someone insecure would actually say to someone who's really REALLY nice. And not just nice, she's the nice-y nice, the type you wouldn't think that she has the capacity t to do something bad or whatever. And well, that's the line I can hear my friends would tell me if I'm going to tell them what happened to me this morning. So, instead of telling them, I ought to write here. Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She texted me last Saturday that she might be going to Iloilo on Monday (that's today). I have really tried my best not to text her whenever my friends are around because my friends would tell me that she's just being plastic and everything, etc. What I did,  I replied when I'm already back in the boarding house. I told her I might be busy on Monday but I still said that I might find time to see her. And guess what, I actually did :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She arrived in Iloilo this morning together with her husband. I want to fetch them in the airport ( I woke up as early as 4am) but I realized it would be better if I just meet her somewhere in the city. She agreed. She asked me if she should bring her husband with her I told her no, I just want to meet her, that's all. So, I was fetching my stuff since she'll be arriving in the city around 7am. It was still quarter to 7 when she texted me she's already there. I have to hurry up, I told myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was expecting to see a very sophisticated lady, someone with model-ish American (or Canadian) style but to my surprise, I see someone very simple. Like really really simple. With her look, she doesn't looked like an architect at all! She's just wearing a white tee then baggy pants and well, sandals. She's just so simple but her aura is amazing. It feels so powerful, I can't even understand it. She was reading the newspaper when I arrived and upon seeing me, she stood up and guided me to her table. She was so accommodating, she asked me what I want to eat, I told her I already had my breakfast. So she just got me a latte instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so shy that I don't know what to talk about. But she was really eager to break the ice. She asked me how school was and everything and I told her I'm expecting three quizzes today. She gave me tips as to how will I ace law school (her sister is also in law school but its in Canada) and all those stuff. I asked her how her work was and then she told me all about it. She was to talkative! Its like she's been wanting to talk to me the whole time. So we were talking and talking and talking until its already around 12 noon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We discussed about different things, from Manila pollution, the nature of her work, to my friends, to her husband and everything. She told me she deserves what my friends did to her, she felt bad, she admitted it but she also said that it was her fault in the first place. She was apologetic, she was so sweet. I don't know if she's faking it but I can see and feel the sincerity--in her words, in her actions, in her voice. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt. She did not ask me if I want to be friends with her but I'm pretty sure that with what she showed me today, I am already her friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's leaving for Manila at 6pm today, and now she's texting me as I write. She wants to see my school and to see my friends but she's sad cos she can't for lack of time. I was hoping that she could extend her stay but she has to leave because she also have other obligations with other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the chapter between me and Rian is already over. We just wiped the slate and now, its good as new. In my part, I gained a new friend. The sweetest friend I've ever known :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh by the way, she gave me lots of pasalubongs (she said it was from Canada pa) and did I ever told you guys that she's very very pretty? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Time to move on to a new chapter of my life!!! Atleast all is well already :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-360808290117767565?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/360808290117767565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/shes-so-nice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/360808290117767565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/360808290117767565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/shes-so-nice.html' title='&quot;She&apos;s so nice,'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-848096312063594007</id><published>2011-07-12T23:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T13:06:32.648+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 27- Why are you doing this 30 day challenge</title><content type='html'>Hahaha I started this challenge out of boredom last February. I thought I'll be going to finish this one during summer but turns out I'm wrong since I have been doing other stuff aside from this. Well anyway, I ought to finish this challenge because another challenge is in my pants (nyay, this time its more interesting hahaha). And if ever I'll really be able to finish this, this will be the first time I'll ever finish a blah blah day challenge. Chos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. Bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-848096312063594007?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/848096312063594007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/day-27-why-are-you-doing-this-30-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/848096312063594007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/848096312063594007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/day-27-why-are-you-doing-this-30-day.html' title='Day 27- Why are you doing this 30 day challenge'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7526520867092505346</id><published>2011-07-09T12:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T13:03:07.316+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 26- What you think about your friends</title><content type='html'>I'm choosy when it comes to friends. I don't make friends immediately but once I do, trust me I'll treasure them until forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends are mixed up. I have crazy friends, I have cool friends, I have emo friends (hahaha VON!), I have the adventurous friends. Although they are quite a variety, some things I love about them are that they are really true to themselves and they don't pretend to be someone they're not. Also, they speak on what's on their mind and don't hold back anything from you. And finally, they trust me--which is the basic foundation of all relationships. NAKS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there. Let's keep our friendship burning! YEAH YEAH YEAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7526520867092505346?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7526520867092505346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/day-26-what-you-think-about-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7526520867092505346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7526520867092505346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/day-26-what-you-think-about-your.html' title='Day 26- What you think about your friends'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-993932297646219290</id><published>2011-07-08T23:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T00:05:41.505+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 25- What I would find in your bag</title><content type='html'>This is really late, my Day 24 post about months ago. Haha. Okay, so I'll just make this quick since I'm in a 15-minute break from studying :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So, this is what's in my bag.  I have the following items:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Hanky&lt;br /&gt;2. Candies&lt;br /&gt;3. Umbrella&lt;br /&gt;4. Wallet&lt;br /&gt;5. Coin Purse&lt;br /&gt;6. ID&lt;br /&gt;7. Alcohol&lt;br /&gt;8. Cologne&lt;br /&gt;9. Comb&lt;br /&gt;10. Bracelets&lt;br /&gt;11. iPod&lt;br /&gt;12. Sanitizer&lt;br /&gt;13. Playing Cards&lt;br /&gt;14. Letters&lt;br /&gt;15. Plastic Bags&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f43u_P1j0v0/Thcpzc-TwDI/AAAAAAAAAWU/ee8epTzMvLc/s1600/enks.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f43u_P1j0v0/Thcpzc-TwDI/AAAAAAAAAWU/ee8epTzMvLc/s400/enks.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627012223350325298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Those are in random order (or whasoever) :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm supposed to post a detailed photo of this but I guess this is already enough. So there you go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. My break is almost up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ITS WEEKEND TOMORROW! YEY! (BUT I HAVE CLASSES BOO)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-993932297646219290?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/993932297646219290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/day-25-what-i-would-find-in-your-bag.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/993932297646219290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/993932297646219290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/day-25-what-i-would-find-in-your-bag.html' title='Day 25- What I would find in your bag'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f43u_P1j0v0/Thcpzc-TwDI/AAAAAAAAAWU/ee8epTzMvLc/s72-c/enks.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-135171660739625508</id><published>2011-07-07T10:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T10:41:57.312+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Papa, why?</title><content type='html'>My questions as of today are so endless with regards to your actions moments ago. I don't know what exactly happened to you and why all of a sudden you were that kind of dad I have been looking forward to talking when I grow up. All of a sudden you've changed, you cared more about me, you cared more about us. Okay, you cared before but today was really different. Take for instance, you asked me first if you could call (you usually just call out of the blue and gets angry if I can't answer your call), of course, I have to set aside all my reading lists because I haven't talked to you for two days already. You were cheery at first and you were asking about me and my studies. Then all of a sudden, a line finally struck me while talking to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;"Anak, do what makes you happy. It was wrong for me to put you into this in the first place. I am so sorry."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were crying. I know you're trying so hard to hold back your tears but I can actually feel that you're crying. Your voice cracked. You can't talk straight. I've never seen you cry before papa and this is the first time I heard you cry. I was trying my best not to show you that I am crying with what you said but I still broke down the last minute. You told me I am too old for crying and I told you you're older for crying. You laughed. Then you said sorry once again. Papa, I don't know if I should be happy that you finally gave me the go signal to do what I want to do. Because as of this time, I have made up my mind that I'll finish law school first before pursuing my writing dreams but at least I kind of feel better now that you're okay with me going for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy with law school now papa and I'm happier now that I know I have your support in every endeavor that I will do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I think God has now showed me the reasons why you didn't said yes too soon. He wanted me become a lawyer first. And I will be a lawyer papa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever happens, I will be a lawyer and I will make you proud someday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for finally derogating me the right to decide on my own. But I will still consult you on my decisions from time to time. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I will always remember what you said. Don't worry papa, you'll always be the number one man in my life. I love you Papa. Always have, always will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-135171660739625508?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/135171660739625508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/papa-why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/135171660739625508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/135171660739625508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/papa-why.html' title='Papa, why?'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-3340783066472614748</id><published>2011-07-05T15:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T15:09:28.593+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TO YOU.</title><content type='html'>If I was a&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; stupid bitch&lt;/span&gt;, I would say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Reacting only proved you guilty because no one would've been hurt if it wasn't true. Like they say, Truth Hurts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nice girl&lt;/span&gt;, I would say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm sorry, everything you said was right. It was really dim of me to act that way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;one track minded&lt;/span&gt;, I would say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Good, I hurt you. I was right anyway, you deserve it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;that pompous&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I would confront you and argue and argue and argue until I prove you wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;that illusive&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I would disregard everything that has been said and start over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; none of the above&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;As of now, I still don't know which role I want to play, but I do know which roles I should take. I am sorry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I want to press rewind and start anew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I don't want anymore complications and misunderstandings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;It ends here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;And oh, thank you for your nobela long reply on my "what do you want?" question :) That was so brave of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-3340783066472614748?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/3340783066472614748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/to-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3340783066472614748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3340783066472614748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/to-you.html' title='TO YOU.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-1799262666376861822</id><published>2011-07-04T22:04:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T10:58:21.481+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bear with me for I don't know where to start.</title><content type='html'>DISCLAIMER: I WROTE THIS SIX MONTHS AGO!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been looking at the screen and tapping the keyboard for about five minutes now, trying to figure out how I'd write down all the emotions I have that I can't even name. Everything is just coming to me all at once that I don't know how to start venting out anymore. Forgive me if this will come out confusing due to the lack of details, but I just can't handle them as of now. You can still ask me though--I believe that would be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week was one of my Roller Coaster days. It started out great and ended as a disaster. She exposed me to the greatest inferiorities and insecurities I had in life--ones that I admitted I'm just not ready to deal with yet. I felt that she disregarded my feelings and prioritized other's first. And I knew that it shouldn't have been that way for a lot of reasons, moreover because there's a promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not blaming anybody. The times I have shared with him aren't something that I would ever regret. Frankly speaking, I did what I have thinking that it would be better for the both of us now, given the circumstances. But now I continue to ask myself, if this is really better or I just made things a lot worse? I said to myself that it was about time I considered my feelings first, but look at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loneliness. These past few months I have realized for a fact that it is sadder and lonelier when all the while you thought he or at least that someone was there with you all the time no matter what and later finding out that you were just really all by yourself, instead of knowing and being sure that you have no one at all. It's false hope, it's a lot more painful--believing in something that doesn't exist. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I NEVER wanted to lose you, moreover to let go. But why is it that I feel all alone in the team we both once played in together? We win together and not on one another. Yeah, no one really wins this time because if you think I do, I never wanted to win. I feel like a loser as much as I hope you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just needed to hear you tell me how much you did not want to lose me. To see you do the things you should to stop me from leaving. But why didn't you say anything? why didn't you do anything? It was as if you have been wanting me to do it. I have been wanting nothing but you to prove me wrong and yet you make it seem that I'm waiting for nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself crying for no reason at all. At night I cry under my sheets praying that once I look up it's your face I'll see. I still want you. I still want us. Those things I know for sure, but it's hard to feel that way if it's just me. What about you? I sometimes think that maybe I wasn't enough for you to show me the same emotions I did. At times I wonder if you also long for me. If you don't know how to function like you used to because there's a missing part called me, because I do. Perhaps I am weak and I have to keep up with your pace, but my questions are endless. As if there is just no way of doing this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope for the impossible happiness and smiles tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I can do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No. I still can't accept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DON'T want to accept it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-1799262666376861822?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/1799262666376861822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/bear-with-me-for-i-dont-know-where-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1799262666376861822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1799262666376861822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/bear-with-me-for-i-dont-know-where-to.html' title='Bear with me for I don&apos;t know where to start.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-641815556879213035</id><published>2011-07-03T10:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T10:56:12.529+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Change skinned.</title><content type='html'>When I was younger, I really love to have this whole change skin thing over the palm of my hands but since I cannot really get to have such thing happening on my palms, I put glue instead, would let it dry and then assume that I have change skin when I removed the dried glue from my hands. And then I was so happy. Haha. Isn't that amazing? That's what I actually do from time to time if I wish that my palms would undergo such changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then just yesterday morning, one of the most amazing things happened to me after taking my morning bath. Well, I guess you know it already! YES! Finally, I have the REAL CHANGE SKIN shiz happening to my palms. That's happening in front of my eyes! And I still can't believe it you know. Haha. Its not really much but its already enough for me to start my day right! I showed my palms to my roomate and told her that I have change skin and I have wished for it since I was a little kid. Okay, talk about mababaw na kaligayahan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing barbie posters, seeing the sunrise, saying thank you to manong guard when he opens the gate and seeing him smile, seeing my friends smile, actually experiencing the whole change skin thing in my palms--these things makes me happy. These things makes my day. I think its about time to see the simple things in life and be happy about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The simpler, the better, the happier." -that's my new motto. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-641815556879213035?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/641815556879213035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/change-skinned.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/641815556879213035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/641815556879213035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/07/change-skinned.html' title='Change skinned.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-2430281682129455238</id><published>2011-06-25T20:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-25T21:13:24.640+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pause. Stop.</title><content type='html'>I'm not going to Columbia. Its not something I've decided on my own (cos if I have to decide for myself, I would really love to go) but its the result of the combined decision of everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sad, yes. I haven't been telling about this to my classmates because I know the moment I start telling them the story as to how my dad said no (in the most elegant way), I'll just cry. Every time I think about it, I cry. Although I guess they have an idea that I will not be leaving because I haven't withdrawn my subjects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I'm hurt. Not because of the fact that I'm not leaving (okay, maybe part of that) but the most thing that hurts me now is the fact that people were happy to see me stay. I mean, I told this friend of mine that I'm not leaving, and he told me, "yes! im happy now!". WTH? I don't get it. Why is it that you don't want me to leave? Why are you happy that I'm not leaving? IT JUST HURTS YOU KNOW. If only you consoled me and told me things that might make me feel better, but you didn't. Instead you told me you're happy because I'm not leaving. Now, that's selfish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't get it really. Okay, I know I can pursue it (I just don't want to use the word) after I graduated law school. But the question would be, will I still want it that much as I wanted it now? What if I don't want to pursue it anymore? Would it be another wasted opportunity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made it clear with myself months ago that I don't want to live with what ifs anymore. Looks like I haven't made it clear enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-2430281682129455238?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/2430281682129455238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/06/pause-stop.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2430281682129455238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2430281682129455238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/06/pause-stop.html' title='Pause. Stop.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-2890539689401696433</id><published>2011-06-16T12:49:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T12:53:25.873+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Did you see the moon last night?"</title><content type='html'>Just as I was about to slide the door closed, he came running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took my hand, and placed his on top of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"What is this?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Here, something to make you think of me while I'm away."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a bracelet. An entire chain of silver, half-moon engraved bracelet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A reminder that he'd always be there. No matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Do you see that constellation? Those three stars in close distance to each other? That's Leo's constellation."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend interrupted while we were both staring into space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"No, its not. That's Orion's belt"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I giggle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"That's our constellation."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I'll think of you when I see it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"This is the beginning of the rest of our lives...This is the most coloful chapter of my life."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Five, ten years?....You're worth it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I really didn't know what I was missing out on. I should've known it was you. Nasa tabi-tabi lang pala yung magpapasaya saakin ng ganito..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years later the chain broke. No matter how many times I fixed it, it would always break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why us? You never answered me that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-2890539689401696433?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/2890539689401696433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/06/did-you-see-moon-last-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2890539689401696433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2890539689401696433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/06/did-you-see-moon-last-night.html' title='&quot;Did you see the moon last night?&quot;'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-6764870945464154537</id><published>2011-06-13T12:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T12:34:10.770+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First week.</title><content type='html'>My classes started last week and I'm pretty sure that I am not ready. I haven't bought school supplies and other things since I left Iligan that same day. Thus, I was absent for my first meeting in Property. I was assuming that they won't have classes but turns out my allegation was wrong, hence, they did had classes. They discussed the whole 4 articles, that is from article 414 up top article 417 and the most exciting thing about it was that they had a quiz. Okay, it was not a quiz but quizzes. She gave out 2 quizzes alreadyyy and I can really feel that I am waaay behind my classmates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I don't know if I should be happy or not that I'm back here. I'm back to this familiar territory because honestly, as of the moment, there's still no final decision. I want to pursue law and I wanted to study journalism too, but I only have to choose one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I hold on permanently to my schedules and everything when I don't know where will I be two months from now? I mean, I cannot make plans with people (are my plans are only until mid-July since I'm planning to leave around last week of July) simply because I don't know if I'll still be here or not. Hay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, if you'll ask me, I'm ready to go. I think I now have the courage to leave these people for just a year and then, I'll be back. I made up my mind. But the bad thing is, my decision is only 20% of the entire story. I still have to talk to my dad (which is really very hard to convince, btw) about this. Thus, we'll be talking tomorrow. I have already listed the set of arguments I am going to present to him on my meeting with him tomorrow. I am excited and scared at the same because after tomorrow, there will surely be a decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be needing prayers. I have been praying so hard the past days and well I hope God has been hearing my prayers. Please please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, Congratulations Dallas Mavericks! Yay, NBA Champs! Haha. Honestly, I don't really care who wins but I placed my bet on both teams. Since my dad rooted for Dallas, I sided with Miami and since Cap was rooting for Miami, I sided with Dallas. Hahaha.Balimbing much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. All is fair in love, war and sports :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-6764870945464154537?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/6764870945464154537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/06/first-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6764870945464154537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6764870945464154537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/06/first-week.html' title='First week.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-1385800152339705882</id><published>2011-06-10T12:07:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T12:17:45.324+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't want to focus now on what's tearing me apart but I will hold on to what's keeping me together.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-1385800152339705882?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/1385800152339705882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-dont-want-to-focus-now-on-whats.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1385800152339705882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1385800152339705882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-dont-want-to-focus-now-on-whats.html' title='I don&apos;t want to focus now on what&apos;s tearing me apart but I will hold on to what&apos;s keeping me together.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5859455394696508190</id><published>2011-06-07T21:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T21:41:50.495+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do you want to become a lawyer?</title><content type='html'>...that was the question to my first oral recitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking of what am I supposed to answer. I've been thinking different things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I wanted to be a lawyer because I want to be rich.&lt;/span&gt; (nah, not this, too obvious hahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I wanted to be a lawyer because I want to help in the administration of justice. &lt;/span&gt;(nah, too Ms Universe-y)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I wanted to be a lawyer because my dad forced me to. &lt;/span&gt;(nah, too honest)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I wanted to be a lawyer because I want to inspire people and touch their lives. &lt;/span&gt;(nah, prone to follow up questions like, "why not become a doctor instead?")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking of different answers but when it was my time to recite, I spoke this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I wanted to be a lawyer JUST BECAUSE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh kamusta naman yun??? Good thing walang follow-up question kundi I'll be so dead. Pero grabe shet ang fail sobra, why of all yun ang nasagot ko??? JUST BECAUSE. In tagalog:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;GUSTO KONG MAGING ABOGADO KASI DAHIL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANONG NANGYARI SA AKIN KANINA??? Just because. Shet lang. Kamusta naman yun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, but the back of my mind says, "its okay than saying your real reason why you wanted to become a lawyer"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sige fine, papalampasin ko to. Pero grabe laaang daig ko pa ang traffic sa EDSA! HINDI AKO MAKAMOVE ON!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5859455394696508190?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5859455394696508190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/06/why-do-you-want-to-become-lawyer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5859455394696508190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5859455394696508190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/06/why-do-you-want-to-become-lawyer.html' title='Why do you want to become a lawyer?'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-8141912416170784254</id><published>2011-05-25T11:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T11:58:23.828+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My own quarter-life crisis?</title><content type='html'>I remember last year, I was busy submitting graduate school applications (one of which was my application to NUS But there were still other schools that I actually applied) scared that I might not do something after graduation. But then, my dad told me that I should give law school a try and then I did. I started liking law school, okay, not really like but I guess I'm starting to love law school and then now, I have to make a decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received an acceptance letter from a university abroad in the graduate school of journalism around June last year. I told my parents about it of course but they just shrugged off the idea because I'm in law school already. However, I was so excited about it. In fact, I didn't know that I have the slightest chance of being accepted (my background was not really good since I have an undergraduate degree of Physics--that is totally not related to journalism) but whatever way, I still was accepted! And it was a miracle for me. Really. Seriously. Then I checked on the tuition fees and there, I was so hopeless! The fees cost an arm and a leg per semester! Its was roughly around $23,000 per semester! So I was thinking how am I able to afford that? Then I thought of one thing: Scholarships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After which, I started applying for a scholarships and everything and well, just earlier last week, I received a mail that my scholarship grant was approved! And that means, if only I would like to, I can now enroll in that school at the start of the Fall term!!! I was so excited about it that I completely forgot about law school and then now, I'm torn again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now starting to love law school and I cannot just leave it like that but I'm thinking of my graduate school studies as well. I haven't told my parents and my siblings about it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yet&lt;/span&gt; because I know for sure they won't allow me to leave the country and study there, ALONE. But I really want to try it! I mean, I've worked for this and I think I deserve this! I survived living on my own in Iloilo so why would I not survive on living on my own alone in New York, right? Although Iloilo is nothing like New York, but the fact of living independently on the city is already something, di ba? (My teacher told me that I should really practice crossing the street! haha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, if I'm pursuing with graduate school, it's like hitting two birds with one stone because I can then go to the Creative Writing Summer Workshop of Paris American Academy this coming July! So that's an additional stuff for my future bio data! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haaay Lord. Please clear my mind and my parents' mind. I'm going to talk to them this weekend. I hope I can get a shot on this because I don't want to live my life over what's ifs anymore :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-8141912416170784254?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/8141912416170784254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-own-quarter-life-crisis.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8141912416170784254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8141912416170784254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-own-quarter-life-crisis.html' title='My own quarter-life crisis?'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-3126682830221018131</id><published>2011-05-22T08:55:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T09:27:28.629+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Straight from the heart.</title><content type='html'>Last night, I decided to let it all go. I cried with all my might, I decided to fix myself and well, I guess I finally decided that I will move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been over a year and with what I thought that I have been healing was wrong. I was not. I am still broken, I am not patching myself, I was miserable. I have been trying to sound and feel okay, to pretend that I am happy but in the end, I'm still the one sad, I'm still the one crying and I'm still the one suffering. I don't know what I am supposed to do but I then decided that I should stop being like this. This is going to get me to nowhere. This attitude is going to fail me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just weeks ago, he called me and told me he wanted to meet me in person because he wanted to talk about something. I know what was that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;something &lt;/span&gt;(thanks to his sister who told me about it beforehand&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;--it was his plan to propose to his present girlfriend and well, he was wanted to ask my permission to do it. Of course, since I'm "okay" like that, I told him that he should not go here in Mindanao and well, we could just talk on the phone. And we did. The whole time he was talking, I feel like crying, I feel like my heart was torn to pieces. It hurts so much, it really did but I don't know to whom will I say it. My friends have bigger problems than I and well, I cannot tell them about my situation because I don't want them to worry. So I just kept it all to myself--not until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you remember that time Basha (of One more chance) told to Popoy the lines: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Ako naman ang may gusto nito diba? Pero bakit ang sakit sakit?"&lt;/span&gt; I really can totally relate and well, I felt the same pain Basha was feeling. Yes, I was the one who chose my path and he chose his. I was the one who decided that he should find someone else because I don't want to be depriving him of something he wanted for a long if I would tell him to wait for me after law school. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;He told me he can wait but he did not told me until when.&lt;/span&gt; So much for thinking of my after-law-school happy ending. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there. He's getting married. I forgot when is the exact date but &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;HE IS GETTING MARRIED&lt;/span&gt;. If I only was selfish enough a year ago, I could be the one he's marrying, I could be the one he's with right now. But no, I chose to be righteous and abandon my chances of being happy with someone, the chance of creating a happy ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was both hard for us, those times. I remember before he'll ask me if I'm happy with law school and I would say yes. He would then ask me if I'm sure. And then I would rant about the stuff about me not really being happy and everything and he would tell me stuff like: "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you dumped me for law school and now you're telling me that you're not happy?&lt;/span&gt;" but that was just before. That was almost a year ago. And Iris a year ago was so different from the person writing this entry now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now more matured. 5, 1o years more mature than my pre-summer self. I don't know, there were just things that just happened. Then, there. I look to see the positive things in my life. My friends and everyone who cares for me. If not for law, I would not be meeting those uber cool people in my life. There are lots of things that I should be thankful for that I entered law school, things that I may not have done if I decided to settle down in an early age :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before, if people will ask me if I really wanted to study law, I would say that it's not my choice, it's my father's but now, if people will ask me why if studying law was my choice, I would proudly tell them that it is. Ohdiba. Proud law student!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so there. I really have decided to let it all go and move on. He deserves to be happy and I deserve to be happy too. We may not be together in the end but at least I get to meet him in this life--that is something. I mean, according to one quote, "Don't be sad because it ended, be happy because it happened" and I'm going to stick to that. I'm now sticking to the more positive part of life :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of the whole love life thing, I'll be putting that one on hold. As of now, I'll have law as my priority next to God, family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I have the coolest bunch of friends that ever existed, who would need a boyfriend? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s&lt;br /&gt;I prayed for him and his happiness while on church today :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-3126682830221018131?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/3126682830221018131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/healed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3126682830221018131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3126682830221018131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/healed.html' title='Straight from the heart.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7939130174333446738</id><published>2011-05-15T13:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T13:06:10.314+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 24- A letter to your parents</title><content type='html'>I wanted to do this task as soon as I read the duty but well, I have to wait until today. Haha. So okay, here it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for raising me. You know how glad and proud I am that you are my parents. I couldn't ask for more (well, maybe a little open-mindedness would do). You guys, you know how I always try so hard for you to be proud of me as well. I have been doing my best, mind you. I have been studying my ass off so that I won't have failing grades in school and well, I think all those hard work are paying off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys, thank you for giving me you all out support in everything that I do. Although there are some things that you guys didn't ought to know (but well, found a way to find out about it a little too soon), still you were there. Although I know that the things I did was entirely my fault, you guys didn't make me feel that it's mine. I love you guys so much. I may not really express it cos I'm just stoic like that but trust me when I tell you that I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pa, thanks for understanding me and always arguing with me. Thanks for all those times we'd argue about politics, government and all those stuff. I might be wrong sometimes but believe me, I'm learning. You know what, I would be so glad that we're going to have a deeper talk about everything soon. Pa, I always tell you everything and I know that you're aware of the things that I REALLY wanted to do. I'll always be your girl-version. And I promise to you pa, I'm going to be a lawyer no matter how hard it will be. However, I'm not going to be a politician like you! HAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy, we're not really that close but I'm really really really trying so hard for us to be. Although there are times that I may seem really aloof about everyone in the house, believe me I'm not really like that. When I'm going to pursue my graduate studies, I'm going to be really far and well, you might not be able to check on me everytime. Haha. I'll miss you mom. And I love you always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guys, please love each other until forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your daughter,&lt;br /&gt;Iris&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7939130174333446738?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7939130174333446738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-24-letter-to-your-parents.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7939130174333446738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7939130174333446738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-24-letter-to-your-parents.html' title='Day 24- A letter to your parents'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7867337760493559911</id><published>2011-05-14T08:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T09:28:40.899+08:00</updated><title type='text'>6/2(1+2)=?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;6/2(1+2)=?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I seriously don't think I need any software but I guess I need a new calculator instead. I tried solving it using my brain and well, it answered 1. My calculator says its 9. Which is which?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm no math geek and I really don't know what's the real answer to this. Or maybe the real answer is both? Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paging you math geeks! Or better yet, I wanted that Summa Cumlaude from UP (he's a BS in Math, right?) to answer this! Hahaha Cheka lang! But seriously, what's the answer??? I'm no number master!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I have a brilliant beyond brilliant idea! Why don't the producers of TBBT (The Big Bang Theory) put this one in an episode and leave this for Sheldon Cooper to answer. I'll be delighted to know how he's going to explain the correct answer. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7867337760493559911?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7867337760493559911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/6212.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7867337760493559911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7867337760493559911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/6212.html' title='6/2(1+2)=?'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7612641867009039063</id><published>2011-05-13T14:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T12:53:59.051+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 23- Something you crave for a lot</title><content type='html'>HAHAHAHA. This one's the best cos I only crave for one thing A LOT. And that is... *drumrolls* POPCORN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm a fan of popcorn. Popcorn is actually my comfort food and when I'm really sad or depressed or whatsoever, I crave for popcorn. Well, not just during those times. In some other times too, like when I'm really really bored, I think that I'm eating popcorn. Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just this summer, I finished all the popcorn my sister gave to us! I finished it all in one week. And that was almost like a kilo, I guess. Haha. Oh well. Talk about popcorn addict. I remember everytime I go home in Iligan, I make sure that I buy popcorn in SM the night before my flight. I'd pack the popcorn and I'm going to eat it while I'm on my way to the airport or something (I usually take the first flights to Cebu from Iloilo cos I don't want to arrive in Iligan late haha). So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a photo of me eating a popcorn on my way to the airport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r4_1tdbQ18Q/Tem6G94c3VI/AAAAAAAAAWM/LsuwPp7cI0w/s1600/DSC_1012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r4_1tdbQ18Q/Tem6G94c3VI/AAAAAAAAAWM/LsuwPp7cI0w/s400/DSC_1012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614223039347350866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Popcorn person, much?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7612641867009039063?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7612641867009039063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-23-something-you-crave-for-lot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7612641867009039063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7612641867009039063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-23-something-you-crave-for-lot.html' title='Day 23- Something you crave for a lot'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r4_1tdbQ18Q/Tem6G94c3VI/AAAAAAAAAWM/LsuwPp7cI0w/s72-c/DSC_1012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-2502246135841289777</id><published>2011-05-12T23:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T12:45:12.555+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 22- What makes you different from everyone else</title><content type='html'>Really, I don't know how to actually answer this one because I think that I am just like everyone else. Well, I know I'm unique or whatsoever but I guess, what makes me different would be this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is only one Iris that has three other girl siblings, who plays volleyball and tennis during free time, who loves her family more than anything in the world, who loves to annoy her elder sister and well, there is only one Iris who has siblings named Pearl, Pat and Andy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I guess that's the only thing that made me different from everyone else :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-2502246135841289777?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/2502246135841289777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-22-what-makes-you-different-from.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2502246135841289777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2502246135841289777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-22-what-makes-you-different-from.html' title='Day 22- What makes you different from everyone else'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-128074825469344330</id><published>2011-05-11T12:38:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T12:41:51.846+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 21- A picture of something that makes you happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jfRZjM_rBpY/Tem3JXHP7lI/AAAAAAAAAWE/WfY634QP6Jo/s1600/199603_10150450825530392_617140391_17892656_1921045_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jfRZjM_rBpY/Tem3JXHP7lI/AAAAAAAAAWE/WfY634QP6Jo/s400/199603_10150450825530392_617140391_17892656_1921045_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614219781945159250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;NATURE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything about nature makes me happy. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That photo was taken during a trek in Mt. Pinatubo :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-128074825469344330?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/128074825469344330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-21-picture-of-something-that-makes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/128074825469344330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/128074825469344330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-21-picture-of-something-that-makes.html' title='Day 21- A picture of something that makes you happy'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jfRZjM_rBpY/Tem3JXHP7lI/AAAAAAAAAWE/WfY634QP6Jo/s72-c/199603_10150450825530392_617140391_17892656_1921045_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-3901875951182728735</id><published>2011-05-10T08:20:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T09:25:27.784+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet me on the other side.</title><content type='html'>Few years back, I have this "routine" which allowed me to actually come and visit my tita in a therapeutic center in Manila once given the chance. I remember always going with my dad if he has plans of visiting her and well, enjoy the side trips as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my second visit at Sunrise Hill (I was 17 that time), I met this guy Dave. He seems normal to me until I found out he's been rehabilitated for &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizophrenia"&gt;schizophrenia&lt;/a&gt;. He is also drug dependent (I don't know if drug addict is the right term or whatsoever) and well, he's just like that. He made friends with me and I made friends with him too. We talked about lots of stuff. As to how he wanted to be okay so that he don't need to be there and all those stuff. After that day, I gained a new friend in the person of Dave. I doubt if we'll ever be friends if he's in his normal condition since he's the type who actually don't want to make friends with anyone (he looks like a snob, that's it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my latest visit to that Therapeutic Center (few months back), Dave was already dismissed. He's okay I presume since he's already out and well, unfortunately, I don't have any contact of him so I was assuming our friendship already ended that time. But I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my 21st birthday, I receive these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QJFhKNvEtKw/TciJN6QXYxI/AAAAAAAAAVY/xI4WIXf4HzI/s1600/n754810356_5865757_1331.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QJFhKNvEtKw/TciJN6QXYxI/AAAAAAAAAVY/xI4WIXf4HzI/s400/n754810356_5865757_1331.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604880608331784978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sujiee-X3kQ/TciJOAD_7sI/AAAAAAAAAVg/KhlgWxVB6uw/s1600/n754810356_5865788_2811.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sujiee-X3kQ/TciJOAD_7sI/AAAAAAAAAVg/KhlgWxVB6uw/s400/n754810356_5865788_2811.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604880609890528962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V1u6WXBedvk/TciJOew7sXI/AAAAAAAAAVo/GU5gD6XhKps/s1600/n754810356_5865759_2268.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V1u6WXBedvk/TciJOew7sXI/AAAAAAAAAVo/GU5gD6XhKps/s400/n754810356_5865759_2268.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604880618132058482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That was so sweet of him, right? Aside from that, he also gave balloons and another gift (He gave out a total of three gifts).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All those times I thought Dave already forgotten me. But truth is, he hasn't. That's just the sweetest thing a person could do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave, in which part of the world you are right now, thank you so much for the friendship. I hope to see you soon :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-3901875951182728735?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/3901875951182728735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/meet-me-on-other-side.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3901875951182728735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3901875951182728735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/meet-me-on-other-side.html' title='Meet me on the other side.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QJFhKNvEtKw/TciJN6QXYxI/AAAAAAAAAVY/xI4WIXf4HzI/s72-c/n754810356_5865757_1331.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-1629564737647153616</id><published>2011-05-09T23:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T11:21:45.152+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 20: Someone you see yourself marrying/being with in the future</title><content type='html'>I remember when I was younger I asked my dad how will I know if that person I am in a relationship with would be the person I will be with for the rest of my life. He answered me: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you'll just know&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought before I already found that person. I mean, I already met that someone I made future plans with. I see myself marrying that person. I see myself having babies with that person. I see myself actually growing old with that person. Not until one day, all those plans were actually crashing right before my eyes when I found out about all the lies that he has to make to hide the reality from me. I thought he was my happy ending, I thought he was the one for me. But I was wrong, of course. He was not. He was keeping everything from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me a lot of time before I actually get back to myself. It was a very hard process, mind you. Letting go of someone whom you had made your future with. Its like starting again, clean slate and the worst thing, you're going to do it without that person. I tried so hard to start again and I did. Now, I can say that I am now stronger and well, wiser from what actually happened to me before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came this person. I haven't seen him actually but upon seeing his photo, I told myself, "this is the person that I'm going to marry". I know this is so stupid (and well, it is) because he's universe away from me. I don't know what I need to do in order for our worlds to meet. We are living in a different world. Very different world actually. I haven't feel this way towards another person for such a long time and this is the first time that I actually felt something. So perhaps, he must be something. Hahaha. Anyway, that was like months ago and now, I just realize how much of a fool I am. He's not the one. And I am just sure of it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, I guess I can say that I still haven't met that person that I see myself marrying or being with in the future. Or maybe I have met that person already and hasn't realized yet that I will want to marry him. Haha. As of now, what I want is to finish my degree first before actually jumping into a relationship once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promised myself and to God that the relationship I'll have soon will be the last relationship I'll have before I'm getting married. So I think I'll be saving the best for the last. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-1629564737647153616?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/1629564737647153616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-20-someone-you-see-yourself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1629564737647153616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1629564737647153616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-20-someone-you-see-yourself.html' title='Day 20: Someone you see yourself marrying/being with in the future'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-4818199704403104882</id><published>2011-05-08T10:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T11:21:59.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 19: Nicknames you have; why do you have them</title><content type='html'>Whoah. I have lots of nicknames my whole life. I mean, in my 21 years of existence, I've met several people which gave me a nickname. Some are funny, some are stupid and some are well, acceptable. But isn't it fun to have someone actually give you a nickname and remember that person who calls you that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aiai&lt;/span&gt;- from my name Iris. You know how Pinoys actually double their names? Haha Take for example, Lingling, Patpat, Riri, Pingping, etc. That's the same case as mine. Well, its supposed to be II but the spelling just doesn't look okay. Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; - wow. The shortest nickname. My close friends call me that. You guys know who you are. Honestly, when people call me I, I have that feeling that we're already close or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ris &lt;/span&gt;- well, mostly my guy friends call me that. I don't know why but most of them just call me that. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lenny&lt;/span&gt; - my sweet titas call me that when well, they're being sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lenore&lt;/span&gt;- my mom calls me that when she's angry at me or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lenlen&lt;/span&gt;- ha! Some friends who know my second name calls me that. And I don't like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Iris Lenore&lt;/span&gt;- my grandparents call me that! Or sometimes Enor, or Leno or Ore. Whatever goes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;note:&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure there are still lots but I just forgot about them :( I'll update this one when I can think of other :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s&lt;br /&gt;Happy mom's day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-4818199704403104882?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/4818199704403104882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-19-nicknames-you-have-why-do-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4818199704403104882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4818199704403104882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-19-nicknames-you-have-why-do-you.html' title='Day 19: Nicknames you have; why do you have them'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-8737318991803878202</id><published>2011-05-07T17:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T10:53:08.735+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 18:  Plans/dreams/goals you have</title><content type='html'>I have lots of plans. Not just today, not just for the rest of the week and not just for the rest of the month. My plans are long term but well, I cannot have long term plans without short term ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plans are general and one of which is that to be happy. Whatever I am doing now, I have always assured myself that I should be happy with any decision that I make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness is a state of mind, as well as sadness. Men, the world is already dramatic so might as well be happy, right? I know right this time that I am happy with what I am doing and with what I have. The people around me makes me happy, my family and my friends make me happy. Everyone makes me happy. Technically, I've reached that point where I can now look at the brighter side and not dwell on the sad side. Ha! Cheers to happy me. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-8737318991803878202?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/8737318991803878202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-18-plansdreamsgoals-you-have.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8737318991803878202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8737318991803878202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-18-plansdreamsgoals-you-have.html' title='Day 18:  Plans/dreams/goals you have'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-96185172528180085</id><published>2011-05-06T12:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T17:04:36.714+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 17: Someone you would want to switch lives with for one day and why</title><content type='html'>Given the chance to switch lives with someone for a day, I think I'd go for my mom. I wanted to know how its like to be a mother to four annoying children, how to be a wife to a very people person husband, how to be a daughter to a very temperamental mother (my grandmom) and be a sister to my tita (which by the way is very talkative).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom is a very private person. It's not really like she don't like people but she don't want to deal with people (unlike my dad which is very exposed to everything--parties, wake, etc) the way my dad deals with them. She has a few number of friends (all of which are good, mind you) and well, she don't really talk a lot. I don't know what my mom like when she was younger but I think she's the person who will chose to stay at home than party with friends or whatsoever (I think I'm like my mom in that aspect:D).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I wanted to switch lives with her for a day because I wanted to know what she's thinking. I wanted to know how she handles her employees carefully, I wanted to know how she really felt about us, I wanted to know how she felt about my dad and most of all, I wanted to know how she felt about herself. You know, my mom is the person who actually really shares her stories if you are just kind enough to ask. I ask her to tell me some stories, yes but still, there's still something missing. It's like, she's keeping something to herself and all those sort. I remember my mom telling me that I'm the most secretive among the four of us. And well, I guess I should agree with it because I share stuff to my dad more. Well, I think I wanted to switch lives with her because I wanted to feel her. I wanted to feel how it is to step on her shoe. I wanted to feel how it is to be like her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother taught me that there's no way to become a perfect mother. But she taught me as well that there's always a million ways to become one. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-96185172528180085?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/96185172528180085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-17-someone-you-would-want-to-switch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/96185172528180085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/96185172528180085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-17-someone-you-would-want-to-switch.html' title='Day 17: Someone you would want to switch lives with for one day and why'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-1685605411689177990</id><published>2011-05-05T16:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T16:52:41.732+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 16: Another picture of yourself</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2RmdOs5dOLQ/TcpOQtBWJ2I/AAAAAAAAAV4/HFSZMeI2PSI/s1600/aaaa.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2RmdOs5dOLQ/TcpOQtBWJ2I/AAAAAAAAAV4/HFSZMeI2PSI/s400/aaaa.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605378735086118754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That's me, totally being silly. :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"&gt;&lt;span onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="addImage();" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);;ButtonMouseDown(this);" class=" on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Add_Image" title="Add Image"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-1685605411689177990?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/1685605411689177990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-16-another-picture-of-yourself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1685605411689177990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1685605411689177990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-16-another-picture-of-yourself.html' title='Day 16: Another picture of yourself'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2RmdOs5dOLQ/TcpOQtBWJ2I/AAAAAAAAAV4/HFSZMeI2PSI/s72-c/aaaa.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-479139895953145439</id><published>2011-05-04T12:44:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T12:49:26.834+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Melt.</title><content type='html'>I went to Bantay Bata yesterday after my operation. My whole face was still numb from the anaesthesia but I still went anyway. Bringing stuff I bought from the grocery, the people there welcomed me. Then there was this young boy who came to me and then hugged and kissed me. He was holding my hand and led me to the corner of the room and he talked in whisper these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kid: Ate, puede ko nimo hulaton na mudako ko? (Ate, can you wait for me to grow up?)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ngano man? (Why?)&lt;br /&gt;Kid: Kay gusto nako ikaw akong pakaslan. (Because I want to marry you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he hugged me again. I don't know what to react but it just made my heart melt that I could cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This kid gives me hope. :')&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-479139895953145439?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/479139895953145439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/melt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/479139895953145439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/479139895953145439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/melt.html' title='Melt.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-6056516285101585462</id><published>2011-05-03T14:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T16:49:33.295+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 15: Put your iPod on shuffle: First 10 songs that play</title><content type='html'>1. Spoliarium (Eraserheads)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What can I do (The Corrs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Sugar, We're Going Down (Fall out Boy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If I die Young (The Band Perry)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Part of Your World (Little Mermaid)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Cry me A river (Justin Timberlake)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. It's Gonna Be Love (Mandy Moore)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  When God Made You (Newsong w Natalie Grant)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Butterfly Fly Away (Miley and Bill Cyrus)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Right thru Me (Nicki Minaj)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;The sequence is bongga! Its like a story. Hahaha. I'll start from Cry me a river to When God made you. Hahaha. Wala lang. I just remembered something. Blah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-6056516285101585462?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/6056516285101585462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-15-put-your-ipod-on-shuffle-first.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6056516285101585462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6056516285101585462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-15-put-your-ipod-on-shuffle-first.html' title='Day 15: Put your iPod on shuffle: First 10 songs that play'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-6104241700254811007</id><published>2011-05-02T16:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T16:41:44.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 14:  A picture of you and your family</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hpeIer_Ke0g/TcpLQeC3okI/AAAAAAAAAVw/SfZFVee4OVU/s1600/DSC_0552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hpeIer_Ke0g/TcpLQeC3okI/AAAAAAAAAVw/SfZFVee4OVU/s400/DSC_0552.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605375432531092034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mom, Pat, Andy, me and Dad during Andy's graduation :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my awesome family minus my awesome sister, Ping :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-6104241700254811007?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/6104241700254811007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-14-picture-of-you-and-your-family.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6104241700254811007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6104241700254811007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-14-picture-of-you-and-your-family.html' title='Day 14:  A picture of you and your family'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hpeIer_Ke0g/TcpLQeC3okI/AAAAAAAAAVw/SfZFVee4OVU/s72-c/DSC_0552.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5312584775086859892</id><published>2011-05-01T18:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T18:48:01.646+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 13:A letter to someone who has hurt you recently</title><content type='html'>Believe it or not, the most "recent" time someone actually hurt me was last year. Or that's just what I can remember. Haha. So here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember you asking before if I was mad at you. I didn't answered you because I don't know if I'm mad at your or not. Or really, I'm not really mad. I was hurt that time. So so hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really good in showing that I'm hurt or something. Usually, when I'm hurt, I just keep silent, then cry and then pray and then I'm actually okay again. Really, that's what I do. Sounds simple but its not. Its kind of difficult but, well, I think I've practiced that kind of art long enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I don't know if I told you that time that I was hurt but as far as I remember, I didn't get the chance to told you. You were just making things cool, telling me stuff you know I would love to hear but then eventually it cannot just cover everything. You were actually aware that you hurt me and you just don't do anything to make it up to it. I didn't pushed you too hard. I was tired of telling things on my mind to you. Seems to me, you just didn't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;did&lt;/span&gt; care but I was just too...&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;insensitive&lt;/span&gt;? Haha. Ohwell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mula sa puso,&lt;br /&gt;Iris :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s&lt;br /&gt;I heard you're proposing to your girlfriend when she gets back there in Canada! I wish you guys all the best! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5312584775086859892?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5312584775086859892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-13a-letter-to-someone-who-has-hurt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5312584775086859892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5312584775086859892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-13a-letter-to-someone-who-has-hurt.html' title='Day 13:A letter to someone who has hurt you recently'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-8455709786337712332</id><published>2011-04-30T09:18:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T09:26:54.973+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 12: How you found out about Blogger and why you made one</title><content type='html'>I can't really remember how I found out about blogger but I remember this one being my first blog. I have blogs from other sites but this one actually remained. I started blogging when I was in my second year high school and well, still blogging until now (although there have been times that I was MIA for years hahahaha but good thing I was still able to come back).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember making a blogger account for our computer science project. Our teacher required us to have a blog and well, he'll grade us according to the contents of our blog whatsoever. From that time on, I was blogging there and then. Hahaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-8455709786337712332?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/8455709786337712332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-12-how-you-found-out-about-blogger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8455709786337712332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8455709786337712332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-12-how-you-found-out-about-blogger.html' title='Day 12: How you found out about Blogger and why you made one'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-6033143868283134787</id><published>2011-04-29T11:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-29T11:52:54.036+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's recall.</title><content type='html'>I remember vividly, almost a year ago, I was busy complying my requirements for my undergraduate study in Singapore. Then, when I went to my dad for him to sign some stuff he needs to sign, and then, from there, everything else took an unexpected turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me I should try Law School. He told me there's nothing wrong in trying to take the entrance exam. He told me I should give it a shot. And he told me, if I'll fail in the entrance test, he'll stop pressuring me into going to law school and would allow me to pursue my Psychology study abroad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what? He succeeded. I passed the exam, I went to law school and well, I forgot about my study abroad. I told my mom about this and told me that she'll just support me in every step of the way. Well, they did. In my first months in law school, I was crying every night because I wanted to quit. I'm not used to reading stuff and I really hate reading! I even told my dad I still have the chance to pursue my study abroad because classes starts on September. But no, he didn't allowed me to. He told me that I should not give up on myself because he's not giving up on me either. He told me he knows I'm better than all of these things. My dad believed in me. My dad thinks that I can pass law school and will be able to survive it. I think he was right. I passed my first year and now, I'm on my way to my second year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember vividly, what if I did not pursue law? Will I be able to meet my friends now? What if I pursued my studies abroad? Will I be meeting people as cool as the people I have in my life now? I think everything just happens for a reason. I am in post graduate school for a reason. And right now, believe it or not, these reasons are now starting to unfold and I am now beginning to understand why these things happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't pursued abroad, and there's a reason. I didn't get that job, there's a reason. I was admitted to law school, there's a reason. I met my friends, there's a reason. Ha! Everything happens for a reason! :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-6033143868283134787?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/6033143868283134787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/lets-recall.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6033143868283134787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6033143868283134787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/lets-recall.html' title='Let&apos;s recall.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-2911593445538553726</id><published>2011-04-28T08:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-28T09:01:04.790+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 11: Another picture of you and your friends</title><content type='html'>I can't see of any other photo of me and my friends. If only I have a photo of me with all of my friends, then most probably I'll post it. But unfortunately, I don't have one and what I have right is just a photo of my post graduate friends. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this photo are the members of the Bar Ops team First Sunday. We were on La Salle Taft that time to cheer for the barrister which obviously are going to take the Bar Exam. That day was Constitutional law and Commercial law (I guess).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4B26_hlFSsk/Tbi6aZP71tI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/OlO_JnC_lsU/s1600/61379_158245260853891_100000052531042_504274_7866911_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4B26_hlFSsk/Tbi6aZP71tI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/OlO_JnC_lsU/s400/61379_158245260853891_100000052531042_504274_7866911_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600431099252299474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I miss all of them already! We now passed the first hurdle (that's the first year) and I'm now looking forward to passing the second hurdle (aka second year). Haaay. Time flies so fast! I'm so excited to go back to school!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, until then, I'll be staying here in Iligan (or maybe not) :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. Bye! :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-2911593445538553726?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/2911593445538553726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-11-another-picture-of-you-and-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2911593445538553726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2911593445538553726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-11-another-picture-of-you-and-your.html' title='Day 11: Another picture of you and your friends'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4B26_hlFSsk/Tbi6aZP71tI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/OlO_JnC_lsU/s72-c/61379_158245260853891_100000052531042_504274_7866911_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-2414289865299252868</id><published>2011-04-26T20:11:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T20:21:04.561+08:00</updated><title type='text'>TheVideo that was.</title><content type='html'>To sum my "The Weekend that was" entry, here's a video of my weekend. Credits to my sister for making it! Yayness! &amp;lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-10898ffee40fa2af" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D10898ffee40fa2af%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331266289%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D666B51C77DCC2CF6625F579320B4A869304DFE3E.6DAFB1F2BB7CCCC25E17622A01E1787912070000%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D10898ffee40fa2af%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DFe48HTwlVW-qVP2Z_VT_NHi19ws&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D10898ffee40fa2af%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331266289%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D666B51C77DCC2CF6625F579320B4A869304DFE3E.6DAFB1F2BB7CCCC25E17622A01E1787912070000%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D10898ffee40fa2af%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DFe48HTwlVW-qVP2Z_VT_NHi19ws&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-2414289865299252868?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/2414289865299252868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/video.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2414289865299252868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2414289865299252868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/video.html' title='TheVideo that was.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-3646796292737488971</id><published>2011-04-26T09:42:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T09:46:15.759+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why why me???</title><content type='html'>Just this morning, I received a call from my ex's girlfriend saying that she's in Philippines now. She don't know anyone here so she asked my number from Alb (the ex) so that she can contact me. Wow, its so weird, really. Everything is so weird. First of all, why (of all people) she would ask MY number? Then, she knows I don't know anything about Manila (hello, I haven't lived there for more than a month!) and we're not even friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gaah, inaway away niya ako sa Facebook then she'll ask for my help? No, thanks. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what I did was I texted my friends on what I am supposed to do and well, their replies said that I should not care for her. According to my sister: "Manigas siya". Hahaha. Meaaan. But I think they're right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then now, I made my decision. Sorry, girl. I can't go to Manila. I don't want to go there. But don't worry, I'll try to contact some of Alb's friend so that they could accompany you :) Mabait naman ako eh. Wag kang mag alala. Hehe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-3646796292737488971?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/3646796292737488971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/why-why-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3646796292737488971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3646796292737488971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/why-why-me.html' title='Why why me???'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7947973667481014126</id><published>2011-04-25T12:40:00.012+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T20:11:47.545+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The weekend that was.</title><content type='html'>I don't know how I'm going to put into words everything that happened to me this weekend. It was the best weekend of my life so far. I traveled and went to different places. I met up with my cousins, my relatives and my grand mother. I met up my mom's yayas and their kids, I met up with my in-laws, I met up with my lolo, my great grandmother, my tita and my pamangkin (we went to the cemetery) and well, yeah, I had the best time of my life. I don't know if there's another event that could top this but so far, last weekend did topped my list of the best weekends of my life (p.s. I traveled 500 kms all-in-all haha well, that was the plugged number of kilometers as displayed in the car) :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY 1 (Black Saturday)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We (me, my sisters Pat and Andy and my mom) left the house at around 10am. We're supposed to meet my cousin and his wife at around lunch time in Ozamis so that we can have our lunch first before "starting" our journey. Turns out, when we arrive there, everyone was not yet hungry so we decided to start moving and just decided to have lunch at Oroquieta City (it's around 40 minutes from the city proper).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mGjAMnGGzb8/TbZboiOyjrI/AAAAAAAAATI/qFo1Q-ViAFs/s1600/DSC_1553.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mGjAMnGGzb8/TbZboiOyjrI/AAAAAAAAATI/qFo1Q-ViAFs/s400/DSC_1553.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599763938623524530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W0s0-DEtNUk/TbZdyqqwVrI/AAAAAAAAATQ/A93vCz68V-E/s1600/DSC_1535.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W0s0-DEtNUk/TbZdyqqwVrI/AAAAAAAAATQ/A93vCz68V-E/s400/DSC_1535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599766311710250674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had lunch at a place near the sea. We had barbecue stuff and guess how much we paid? Ha! It's only P575! That's less than P600 and we were sooooo full (and bloated, too!) After having our lunch, we went to a pizza house called Biano's where we bought three layers of pizza (fullhouse, hawaiian and beef with mushroom) then proceeded to our "trip". We left Oroquieta at around 2:30 pm :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Oroquieta, we were travelling and then arrived at Dapitan around 4pm. We went first to Rizal Shrine before going to Fantasyland (my sisters really really wanted to go and well, there's no harm if I'd go to, right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QJ7TJxIZaMc/TbZkAfYCdAI/AAAAAAAAATY/ZymgzJJZt7w/s1600/DSC_1577.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QJ7TJxIZaMc/TbZkAfYCdAI/AAAAAAAAATY/ZymgzJJZt7w/s400/DSC_1577.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599773146266891266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FjBllWy6BS0/TbZkAjDASzI/AAAAAAAAATg/dD75X7lVxGs/s1600/DSC_1590.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FjBllWy6BS0/TbZkAjDASzI/AAAAAAAAATg/dD75X7lVxGs/s400/DSC_1590.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599773147252411186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9urCdl1T45s/TbZkBMsURqI/AAAAAAAAATo/kxGkZbvC-1M/s1600/DSC_1608.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9urCdl1T45s/TbZkBMsURqI/AAAAAAAAATo/kxGkZbvC-1M/s400/DSC_1608.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599773158431540898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiM45IkkLy4/TbZkBeWzg0I/AAAAAAAAATw/FsrHNayUCRw/s1600/DSC_1612.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZiM45IkkLy4/TbZkBeWzg0I/AAAAAAAAATw/FsrHNayUCRw/s400/DSC_1612.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599773163173151554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4dppSpwK2ZQ/TbZkBkgg_1I/AAAAAAAAAT4/dOQyqRujxVg/s1600/DSC_1655.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4dppSpwK2ZQ/TbZkBkgg_1I/AAAAAAAAAT4/dOQyqRujxVg/s400/DSC_1655.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599773164824493906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;On the first photo was my cousins and my sisters, then on the second was us together with my mom and my cousins, the third was the different photos of GAT Jose Rizal, the fourth was a garden inside the Rizal Shrine and finally, that's the sunset! My sister Pat knows how sucker I am for really beautiful sunsets! :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our Rizal Shrine trip, we then proceeded to Fantasy Land! I had the nicest night because my mom rode with us! Haha! I rode almost every ride except for those rides where I'll get wet (the shark shiz and then the log stuff) so there. Apparently, we I had the most fun in the bumper cars! We were laughing so hard that we don't minded the people around us! Ohwell. And then, I rode the galleon like 5 times, I guess? I'm such a sucker for those things. Then, we happen to see Romeo Jalosjos and took a picture of him (yeah, we're papicture creature like that :P) So apparently, that's what happened during our "Fantasy Land" adventure. Wooooh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RPKP3FlrtOs/TbZoXt55iNI/AAAAAAAAAUA/1VZVyeYk9lg/s1600/DSC_1909.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RPKP3FlrtOs/TbZoXt55iNI/AAAAAAAAAUA/1VZVyeYk9lg/s400/DSC_1909.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599777943350511826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GVd3dmFci0c/TbZoZLS5wDI/AAAAAAAAAUg/95r1ozOq1lc/s1600/DSC_1768.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GVd3dmFci0c/TbZoZLS5wDI/AAAAAAAAAUg/95r1ozOq1lc/s400/DSC_1768.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599777968419881010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GfDMXgKe9gQ/TbZoYd9hhuI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/n1SjGMCPoKY/s1600/DSC_1852.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 317px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GfDMXgKe9gQ/TbZoYd9hhuI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/n1SjGMCPoKY/s400/DSC_1852.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599777956250617570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bcNpvDhSz5U/TbZoYg4IflI/AAAAAAAAAUY/hU7TbscFGq4/s1600/DSC_1853.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bcNpvDhSz5U/TbZoYg4IflI/AAAAAAAAAUY/hU7TbscFGq4/s400/DSC_1853.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599777957033311826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6YqTilJOiY/TbZoX9BiRBI/AAAAAAAAAUI/ClkumD5o5IY/s1600/DSC_1916.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6YqTilJOiY/TbZoX9BiRBI/AAAAAAAAAUI/ClkumD5o5IY/s400/DSC_1916.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599777947409073170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GVd3dmFci0c/TbZoZLS5wDI/AAAAAAAAAUg/95r1ozOq1lc/s1600/DSC_1768.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, after our Fantasy Land trip, we then prepared ourselves to head to my lola's place for Easter Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left Dapitan at around 1am, and then arrived at Ozamis City at around 3am. Since the port opens up at 4am, we have to wait in the terminal for around an hour before we rode the barge. From there, we then arrived at my lola's place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAY 2 (Easter Sunday)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up to the sound of people really busy preparing for my lola's post birthday celebration (her birthday was the other day but she decided to celebrate it again with us) so what happened was her birthday was a two-part celebration. My cousins and I ate our breakfast individually (some are still sleeping while others are awake. As for me, I ate breakfast with my cousin-in-law) and then sleep again after eating. We had lunch at around 3pm. After which, we went to our farm to check on some things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RMHg8CqECsM/TbZrGmfv4II/AAAAAAAAAUo/JKuwT4fHeVY/s1600/DSC_2026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RMHg8CqECsM/TbZrGmfv4II/AAAAAAAAAUo/JKuwT4fHeVY/s400/DSC_2026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599780947838886018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My cousin and his wife visited their son, Baby Mark who was delivered prematurely and which actually caused his death. There were lots of stories from my cousin and I was looking at his wife the whole time. They seem okay but I know, deep inside them there's still that pain, there's still that longing. Mark could have been a year old a month from now but well, God decided that he should not live. Its God's choice and its sad but well, its His plan. Whatever the reason is, that's just that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After visiting my pamangkin's grave, mom decided to go to her dad's tomb as well as her grandmother and her sister. So we went there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iLgPhR_5Mxw/TbZrH4yxiAI/AAAAAAAAAUw/ejsdYU9Ywzg/s1600/DSC_2048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iLgPhR_5Mxw/TbZrH4yxiAI/AAAAAAAAAUw/ejsdYU9Ywzg/s400/DSC_2048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599780969930393602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That's my mom's hand offering candles to my lolo's tomb. It was raining that time so we stayed only for a little while and then started moving. My mom has lots of stories about my grandfather. My mom was only in her fifth grade when my grandfather died. It was a great loss. She don't know what to do and she was crying every now and then. But mom was strong so she was able to over come it. I don't know what I would do if ever I was in her position. I'm not as strong as her and I don't know what I would be doing. Anyway, after visiting the people who made their lives meaningful, we decided to visit Cathedral Falls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Etl-Ub5PEPI/TbZtrpkyQII/AAAAAAAAAVA/4hOgeGmQMLY/s1600/cathedral.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Etl-Ub5PEPI/TbZtrpkyQII/AAAAAAAAAVA/4hOgeGmQMLY/s400/cathedral.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599783783343734914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cathedral Falls was one of the falls that I know when I was a kid. I remembered the first time I went there, I went with Gigi and Ate In-in. I think I was in my second grade that time? My earliest memory of the falls was swimming near the people who washed their clothes and listening their stories. Ah! I miss childhood! I miss those times when everything was still so simple and well, easy. Hay. I also remembered the time I went there just because I wanted to cry! I told nong Loloy that I wanted to go there so he brought me there. I just cried my heart out and after which, I'm okay then. Haha. Yay, memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, what is the weekend without the talks, the bonding and all those sorts? My grandmother's house was so crowded but we had the best moments together! At night, we slept around 8pm because we're leaving early the next day. We were talking about random stuff. My grandmother even shared her love story and told us that its okay if we get a boyfriend and all those sort. But one thing that I cannot forget was my conversation with my lola about lawyering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lola: Ai, you should be a lawyer, okay?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: Uhmm, can't I just become a lawyer by affinity?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lola: No, no. Annulment is the trend now. You should become a lawyer, lawyer. I will not die not unless you become a lawyer. Understand?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me: Okay 'la. If that's what you want.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lola: I love you, Aiai.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I could cry. I love my lola so much. I may not really be close to her but believe me when I say that I really really like her. She's cool like that and well, basta. Words are not enough to describe how much she means to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6pRwoMsjiA4/TbZwiQhTZYI/AAAAAAAAAVI/uDMX3iua0Do/s1600/DSC_2002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6pRwoMsjiA4/TbZwiQhTZYI/AAAAAAAAAVI/uDMX3iua0Do/s400/DSC_2002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599786920534304130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;THIS IS A SORT-OF COMPLETE PHOTO OF US.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's how my weekend was. Memorable, unforgettable and amazing in each and every way. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7947973667481014126?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7947973667481014126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/weekend-that-was.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7947973667481014126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7947973667481014126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/weekend-that-was.html' title='The weekend that was.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mGjAMnGGzb8/TbZboiOyjrI/AAAAAAAAATI/qFo1Q-ViAFs/s72-c/DSC_1553.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-1370928663961726105</id><published>2011-04-23T09:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-23T09:26:14.969+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stress-free!</title><content type='html'>My family are going to my lola's place for the weekend. It's going to be a weekend full of talks, fun and catching up! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I surely am, excited! Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s&lt;br /&gt;I haven't seen my lola for quite a long time na. Soooo, today is the day! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. I need to go, my mom's already calling me. Bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-1370928663961726105?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/1370928663961726105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/stress-free.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1370928663961726105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1370928663961726105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/stress-free.html' title='Stress-free!'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-4773589845354973043</id><published>2011-04-21T18:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T18:52:38.093+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 10: Songs you listen to when you are Happy, Sad, Bored, Hyped, Mad</title><content type='html'>I'm not really good with choosing songs. I listen to songs not because of their rhythm or beat or whatever but because of their lyrics. Haha. I don't have a specific song whenever I feel sad or happy or hyped or whatever but there will always be one song that I'll forever love and it's You're A God by Vertical Horizon. It's one of the best yet saddest song that was ever written.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. I'll get back to this later. I'll play Tetris first. Haha :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-4773589845354973043?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/4773589845354973043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-10-songs-you-listen-to-when-you-are.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4773589845354973043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4773589845354973043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-10-songs-you-listen-to-when-you-are.html' title='Day 10: Songs you listen to when you are Happy, Sad, Bored, Hyped, Mad'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-6742616230955068770</id><published>2011-04-20T18:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T18:46:01.724+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 09: Something you're proud of in the past few days</title><content type='html'>Okay, please don't take this as bragging but there's only one thing that I'm proud of that happened in the past few days: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I PASSED ALL MY SUBJECTS DURING MY FIRST YEAR&lt;/span&gt; (insert scream here). I am not grade conscious, mind you, but there's really this particular time when you just wanted to pass, not for the sake of passing it but because you know you deserve to pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I was still "fresh", upperclassmen would scare us to death by telling us things like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;1. That professor you had for &lt;insert subject="" here=""&gt; fails almost all of the students.&lt;/insert&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;2. Atty. &lt;insert name="" here=""&gt; doesn't like someone who's late! If you're late, then you're sure to fail!&lt;/insert&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;3. &lt;insert subject="" here=""&gt; is too difficult! There were only three of us who passed that subject during our first year!&lt;/insert&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;4. Just pass all the exams. If you fail one, then you're sure to fail!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scary, right? Well, these thoughts were actually running in my mind all through out the year. I had visions like, what if I didn't pass because of what they are saying? What if my efforts were not good enough? What if, they'll fail me just because? And then, I'll go to church and cry there. Haha. That's how scaredy I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I remembered this one time when I tried computing my grade for this particular subject and thought I'll never get to reach the passing mark, what I did was I went to church for two weeks before going to school and prayed so so hard. Guess what, I passed that subject and well, my grade was pretty fair :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Off topic: I'm going to my lola's place on Saturday! I'm so excited to see my gramama (I wasn't able to see her during her last birthday because I was out of town)! I wanted to kiss her and hug her and everything! Plus, I'll be meeting my cousins on my mom's side. This is a total rocker! Ha! I really love having moments with relatives. Technically, I'm closer to my cousins on my mom's side (I used the term closer because I'm close as well to my cousins on my dad's side) because we just jam like that and our age are just close to each other. So who don't want that, right? Instant cousin-kabarkada-kaaway-bestfriend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess who's excited? Hahaha :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah. Let me share this conversation with my friend a while ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Okay sige. I'll text you later, mag-aaral pa ako!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What? It's summer! Ano aaralin mo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Kung paano magmahal muli...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; SHEEEET. Ang cornyyyy. I'm going to diiiiiiie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Whatever. Hahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Okay, mag aral kana. Corny!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is one of my closest friends in high school and he still is until now! Hahaha. I can't believe I am friends with this guy, but hell, I cannot imagine either what my life would be without him! Chesssyyy but true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I need to go. Mom and Pat will be arriving in a while! Byeeeee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the rest of the Holy Week! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-6742616230955068770?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/6742616230955068770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-09-something-youre-proud-of-in-past.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6742616230955068770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6742616230955068770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-09-something-youre-proud-of-in-past.html' title='Day 09: Something you&apos;re proud of in the past few days'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-2140546745807665361</id><published>2011-04-19T12:12:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T12:14:53.576+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Future love letter.</title><content type='html'>...here's an excerpt of my love letter for my future husband :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found this letter while I was fixing my things moments ago. Hahahaha :)) It's so cheesy I could melt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here is a part of it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thank you for not making me feel scared at all. Thank you for making me   believe and feel what good a Man could actually do to a Woman. Thanks   for showing me that with LOVE all is not always well. But it is   bearable, livable and peaceful. I wake up each day knowing that if I   ever have to go thru the good and bad I would do it with you. Only you.   Thanks for making me feel safe all the time and for knowing that I made   the right choice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH DIBA! GUMAGANON NA AKO! I MADE THAT HIGHSCHOOL PA LANG AKO! WOOOT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-2140546745807665361?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/2140546745807665361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/future-love-letter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2140546745807665361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2140546745807665361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/future-love-letter.html' title='Future love letter.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-8863003268770478289</id><published>2011-04-18T21:24:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T21:37:59.129+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm happy beyond happy.</title><content type='html'>...if ever there's other term for that, I don't know what. But really, I'm happy today. Yay! So you might be asking whyyyy. It's prolly because of two things: first, I get to see my college blockmates altogether (well, not everyone was there but ALMOST everyone was there haha) and second (okay, now I'm trying not to be really kilig while typing this) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I CHATTED WITH MY CRUSH&lt;/span&gt;. Hahahaha. NOT really "chat" chat but well, chat. Like, we had an exchange of almost 20 lines each. OH DIBAAAAA! And I'm soooo kilig I cannot contain my kiligness so I shared it with Joy &amp;lt;3 &amp;lt;3 &amp;lt;3 But I have to end it because I've to leave (I was in the guidance center while chatting with him haha) and his last words were: "okay, ingat. just keep me posted." Ayan. Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO AKO NA ANG MASAYA!!! :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, here's a photo of me and my blockmates in college:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sA_1pGTks00/Taw9UThIqOI/AAAAAAAAATA/Mma-6NYhClE/s1600/DSC_1399.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sA_1pGTks00/Taw9UThIqOI/AAAAAAAAATA/Mma-6NYhClE/s400/DSC_1399.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596915855960615138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Good times, good times :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-8863003268770478289?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/8863003268770478289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/im-happy-beyond-happy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8863003268770478289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8863003268770478289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/im-happy-beyond-happy.html' title='I&apos;m happy beyond happy.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sA_1pGTks00/Taw9UThIqOI/AAAAAAAAATA/Mma-6NYhClE/s72-c/DSC_1399.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-4128722553977279315</id><published>2011-04-17T19:02:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-17T19:16:19.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 08: Short term goals for this month and why</title><content type='html'>I was having plans as to what I am supposed to do this month when I get back here in Iligan. So now, here's my short term goals for this month:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Read my criminal law books&lt;/span&gt;. One of my favorite subject in law school is criminal law and I really really need to know all the stuff about criminal law. I've only read my books until second reading so I still need to read it for the last time (I have this three reading rule where I have to read all my books for atleast three times) and well, this month, I'm going to read it! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Go back to swimming.&lt;/span&gt; I miss swimming. I really do. When I was in college, I have been swimming and now that I am in grad school, I miss it. So, I'll swim again! And well, I'll start this Monday!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Meet up with my high school and college friends.&lt;/span&gt; I haven't seen them since Christmas so I definitely need to see them this summer! I might go back to Iloilo during the early part of May so there'll be lesser chance of seeing them. Just last night, I met up with some of my high school friends and tomorrow, I'll be meeting up college buddies! After which, I'll just stay at home and then do my number 1 short term goal! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SLEEP early. &lt;/span&gt;Ha! I've been anticipating my 12-hour sleep but I'm not yet doing it cos my body clock still need to be adjusted. I still sleep as late as 3am and wake up as early as 8am. Now, beat that. But well, I'll try to adjust this, promise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, these are my short term goals. People say we should start small, right? So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to go. Byeeee! :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JFbtAz8_Fms/TarLpVDB7PI/AAAAAAAAAS4/XoqsDlgtznY/s1600/DSC_1250.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JFbtAz8_Fms/TarLpVDB7PI/AAAAAAAAAS4/XoqsDlgtznY/s400/DSC_1250.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596509397846191346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's a photo of me and my highschool classmate from last night. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-4128722553977279315?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/4128722553977279315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-08-short-term-goals-for-this-month.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4128722553977279315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4128722553977279315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-08-short-term-goals-for-this-month.html' title='Day 08: Short term goals for this month and why'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JFbtAz8_Fms/TarLpVDB7PI/AAAAAAAAAS4/XoqsDlgtznY/s72-c/DSC_1250.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-8702664895212499391</id><published>2011-04-16T10:18:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T10:38:58.439+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 07: A picture of someone/something that has the biggest impact on you</title><content type='html'>I was supposed to post a picture of my high school teacher which was the reason why I actually pursued Physics but then I realized I wouldn't be going to high school without these two persons who actually made the biggest impact on who I am now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and gentlemen, meet my parents. They are the persons responsible in molding who I am now. I could write a lot of stuff about them but I think blogspot wouldn't allow too much mushiness, right? So anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5EpfnrNvmHA/Taj9GyHilHI/AAAAAAAAASw/laCqHy0uXio/s1600/DSC_0399.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5EpfnrNvmHA/Taj9GyHilHI/AAAAAAAAASw/laCqHy0uXio/s400/DSC_0399.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596000829982282866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents have the greatest impact on me because they were the ones who always reminds me that I should pursue or go after what I really want. My mom, would always tell me that if I'm not happy with what I'm doing, I should not push myself to do that thing.  I remember way back in college she asked me if I really liked Physics, I didn't told her my answer and being a mom that she is, she just told me: "if you're not happy with it, leave." I was in a love-hate relationship that time with Physics so I can't actually decide. Then came my Singapore Scholarship on Creative Writing, my mom was very supportive all the way and was telling me that I should really go for it because she knows its actually what I wanted from the start. But there was a sudden twist of fate, I didn't pursue my Singapore Scholarship, I took my LSAT then went to law school. Still, mom was  supportive. Mom always has a say on everything, school, career and life in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad, on the other hand also has a say in everything, especially love life. If I have problems about love, he'll be the one I'll come to. He gives me idea as to what boys are like and all those stuff. And that was kind of a cool type of bonding. I remember when  I was younger, I would always look forward to the time my dad would be arriving for I know he will be sharing all his stories about life and everything. Then now, I don't know what happened but I kinda lost that "thrill". Prolly its because of growing up? Nevertheless, I'm still glad that I have my dad around me for every decision that I make and scold me sometimes when he feels like I actually needed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Combining my mom and dad, they're the coolest bunch ever! My dad may appear super strict and all but he definitely knows how to have fun! Same with my mom, she may appear like a busy body but she knows how to manage her time effectively! Together, they brought us up in ways no other parents could. And with that, they both have the biggest impact on my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents' marriage has always been the marriage that I look forward to having. Their marriage may not be perfect but they really tried hard for it to be. They compromised, they forgive each other and they make each other happy and satisfied with one another. That's the kind of marriage I wanted to have when I grow up. It may not be now (I need to finish school first) but it might be sooner or maybe it might not happen at all (I might go back to the convent and marry God instead) but whatever goes, their love would always be my inspiration. (okay, really off topic. HAHAHAHA)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there. I'll be having a slumber party with my girlies (Denise, Sittie and Pinky) tonight! Excited! :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-8702664895212499391?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/8702664895212499391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-07-picture-of-someonesomething-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8702664895212499391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8702664895212499391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-07-picture-of-someonesomething-that.html' title='Day 07: A picture of someone/something that has the biggest impact on you'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5EpfnrNvmHA/Taj9GyHilHI/AAAAAAAAASw/laCqHy0uXio/s72-c/DSC_0399.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-751657220762637860</id><published>2011-04-15T19:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T19:59:49.848+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 06: Favorite Super hero and why</title><content type='html'>There are lots of heroes that's been running on my mind and I just cannot think of a particular favorite as of now. All these super heroes that I could think of actually take good part in my childhood and well, I just cannot chose which one among them is the best! I loved them all and for me each and every one of these super heroes tied in the my number one best :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These super heroes are the Powerpuff girls, Son Goku (along with the rest of the gang), Akazukin Cha cha and Sailormoon. Hehe. As you can see, these superheroes are mostly girls (I'm a fan of Sailor moon ever since I could remember), PPG and Akazukin Chacha (I started liking them when we had installed cable in our television) and Dragon Ball Z (where Son Goku starred) is the only anime that I have been following. I like these heroes not because they're the ones who save mankind ( The City of Townsville is saved, thanks to the Powerpuff girls!) but because they're the ones who put my afternoons and mornings less boring. Ha! To think its not that much, but well, that's basically it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZUSzM9d7ekM/Tagyu0FB6kI/AAAAAAAAASo/K3F9_oguEvQ/s1600/jCcGCC7EZqe85zk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 399px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZUSzM9d7ekM/Tagyu0FB6kI/AAAAAAAAASo/K3F9_oguEvQ/s400/jCcGCC7EZqe85zk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595778316842953282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hgdN8fMnRb8/TagyugIcv8I/AAAAAAAAASg/oyct4ZM8SYI/s1600/The-Powerpuff-Girls-powerpuff-girls-874638_445_285.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hgdN8fMnRb8/TagyugIcv8I/AAAAAAAAASg/oyct4ZM8SYI/s400/The-Powerpuff-Girls-powerpuff-girls-874638_445_285.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595778311488585666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q7FEUYJsxlg/TagyutiAwPI/AAAAAAAAASY/loNWeBAdG1g/s1600/sailor_moon_3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q7FEUYJsxlg/TagyutiAwPI/AAAAAAAAASY/loNWeBAdG1g/s400/sailor_moon_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595778315085463794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rax8q_OWbrQ/Tagyudo9nvI/AAAAAAAAASQ/fyadDsE6IYw/s1600/200px-Gokukidadult.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 326px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rax8q_OWbrQ/Tagyudo9nvI/AAAAAAAAASQ/fyadDsE6IYw/s400/200px-Gokukidadult.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595778310819651314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Dragon Ball Z, I've been watching it again on GMA 7 every morning this summer! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;P.S.&lt;br /&gt;Makay's not leaving until May! Guess who's happyyyyy! :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-751657220762637860?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/751657220762637860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-06-favorite-super-hero-and-why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/751657220762637860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/751657220762637860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-06-favorite-super-hero-and-why.html' title='Day 06: Favorite Super hero and why'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZUSzM9d7ekM/Tagyu0FB6kI/AAAAAAAAASo/K3F9_oguEvQ/s72-c/jCcGCC7EZqe85zk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-2539140409259511977</id><published>2011-04-13T15:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T15:20:00.242+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Farewells and goodbyes.</title><content type='html'>I hate goodbyes. I hate the fact that I might not be able to see that person again. I hate the idea that someone close to me will be leaving. I hate it. But whatever I do, I cannot do anything to change that fact that well, they're leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just bid farewell to the two persons who made my life in law school worth remembering. It hurts, yes but I guess that's just part of it. I mean, whatever happens, they actually took part into molding me as this person who survived law school during the first year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first person is Makay. Although its not yet final if she's really moving to Manila, I guess I just have to prepare myself. Makay is my constant pick upper, my reality checker and the person whom I'll go to if I have problems of all sorts. She knows what to say in the right time and with the right words of course. I don't even know how will I describe Makay. Probably its just the fact that I don't know how my law life would be without her. You see, she's the one who puts "colors" in my life. She just makes me happy and she's the best. I love her to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makay and I had lunch together and then went to NBD to get well, desserts. During lunch, she told me about her plans and when I already saw her crying, I cried too! I just don't know how my life would be without Makay. It might be okay, but I know that there will always be something missing in it. Hay. I'm now crying again while typing this. :( Then, while eating desserts, she told me: "Are you aware that this might be the last time we'll be seeing each other?" I wanted to cry upon hearing it but I just hold back my tears because I know that she will cry too. I need to be strong for her cos if I cannot, who would be, right? I'll miss Makay and I'll miss our moments together. *wipes tears* Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second person I get to said farewell today was Nong Charles. Okay, I guess I never really talked about him in this blog because what he always gives me was headaches and all those shiz. I met Manong Charles in law school and he was the one who actually gave me reviewers, taught me how to answer essay questions and all those shiz, kumbaga, if he's a book, he was my Introduction to Law School book. He taught me stuff about everything--from the professors, to the way of checking, to writing essay questions and basta, just everything about law school. So well, basically that's who he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then just this morning, he texted me that he wanted to see me for the last time before he actually go to the States. At first I don't know what to say so I have to ask my friend Joy's opinion and she told me that I should meet him since its already for the last time. So there, I texted him that he'll just tell me where and what time we'll be meeting so that we can talk. Fast forward to that time, he was just talking and all those stuff and well, I was listening (of course) then suddenly he told me: "I don't know why I care for you so much." I don't know what to say since he already started crying so I just cried too (yeah, that's how emotional I am). And there. After the "talk" that we had, there was already closure and well, I was the one who offered him a hug because it's just too awkward to not give him a hug after all those crying and everything :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These persons may leave but they would always remain in my heart. The memories we had together would always be remembered and will never be forgotten (except for those bad things hahaha).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's a note to Maks and Nong Charles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Maks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you'll get to find cool friends in Manila. If you need someone, just call me and Nads and then, we'll just talk our heart out. I'll miss you and I love you so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nong Charles,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you'll still think over about you not taking the bar exam. I mean, it was what you wanted before and then you're throwing your dreams of becoming a lawyer? It is always your choice with what you want to do with your life. Thank you for being a good friend :) Take care!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to be happy mehn! My dad and my sister's arriving in a while! :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BYE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-2539140409259511977?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/2539140409259511977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/farewells-and-goodbyes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2539140409259511977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2539140409259511977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/farewells-and-goodbyes.html' title='Farewells and goodbyes.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-6469590892500084572</id><published>2011-04-12T19:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T19:23:05.475+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Real writing.</title><content type='html'>"You write because you want to read your thoughts when you grow up, 5, 10, 15 years from now." - Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the reason why I wanted to write stuff. I wanted to see if I've improved over the years or something like that. I've been keeping a journal ever since I could remember and I have been scribbling lots of stuff just anywhere--at the back of my notebook, my things do to booklet, my books, anywhere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, due to laziness of all sort, I've written just small things over. I can't blog when I'm happy and I can't blog when I'm sad either. I don't know. I only remember my blog if there's something good that happened but when I'm about to write stuff here, everything then turns blank. Oh well. That's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think i'll just end here. I have to finish reading a book since I need to finish this before going home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. Bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-6469590892500084572?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/6469590892500084572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/real-writing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6469590892500084572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6469590892500084572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/real-writing.html' title='Real writing.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-2939590209574554035</id><published>2011-04-12T18:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T18:44:18.957+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>I have the most supportive friends ever! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guys, I don't know how to tell this in the most non-cliche way but what the hell, I LOVE YOU ALL AND I AM SO BLESSED TO HAVE YOU GUYS IN MY LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wooh. That's better! :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-2939590209574554035?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/2939590209574554035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2939590209574554035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2939590209574554035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-6785665672013653855</id><published>2011-04-11T22:43:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T22:44:15.588+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cry.</title><content type='html'>I just cried my heart out to my best friend. It really felt good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Joy. I love you so much! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-6785665672013653855?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/6785665672013653855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/cry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6785665672013653855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6785665672013653855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/cry.html' title='Cry.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7452903326398038283</id><published>2011-04-11T08:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T09:07:01.701+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snap back to reality.</title><content type='html'>I have been in a sort of MIA the past weeks since I went to my father's place for a week-long vacation.  I was supposed to go back in the city as soon as my sister's graduation was over but my siblings forced me to stay there for days more, so there, I stayed and then, well, I can't believe I'm saying this but yes, it's like I've been taken away to the reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, in the province, everyone knows my family so basically, everywhere you go, you'll be referred to as "the" daughter of blah blah. That's what I don't like there so I really don't feel like going out of the house . Take for example, there's this one time where we visited our cousins so we have to go out then everyone we met was like, "hey, you're here? you're teaching right? are you the one who took up law?" and all the questions continue. You cannot blame these people, but you cannot ignore them either because if you do, you'll appear as somewhat "snob" and that's not cool. It'll be taken against my dad so technically, what we have to do is smile at them and tell them stories about your schooling (some people I know them by face and I don't know most of them by name) and all those stuff. So before leaving, I have to refer them as "sige po, manang/manong" and will not add their names because they might feel bad if they'll find out I cannot remember their names. Anyway, the province is really an escape for me in the busy life of the city. I love it there but sometimes (really, sometimes) there are just times that you wanted to go back to the city, just because.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm back to the city. It's just like, snapping back to reality. Busy life, lousy food and all those crap. And today, I'll be facing one of the worst realities in my life--my consti grades. Gaah. My performance on this subject will either make or break my summer. If I passed, I'll be packing my things tonight and I'll be heading home on the 14th and if I don't pass, well, might as well start preparing my stuff for summer classes and call my mom that I cannot go home on summer because of unforeseen circumstances. Well, really,  I hope that I'll pass. It will mean so much to me if I did. Yay :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Off the record. I had lots of realizations last night :) And when I say lots, I meant really LOOOOOTS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. Bye! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7452903326398038283?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7452903326398038283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/snap-back-to-reality.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7452903326398038283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7452903326398038283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/snap-back-to-reality.html' title='Snap back to reality.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-8358091135345257803</id><published>2011-04-10T18:00:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T18:04:32.345+08:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;“ I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naïve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;— Anaïs Nin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-8358091135345257803?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/8358091135345257803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8358091135345257803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8358091135345257803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post.html' title=':)'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7614918233475872064</id><published>2011-04-08T21:50:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T21:56:59.187+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rainmaker excerpt.</title><content type='html'>I got my movie review paper just this afternoon and I was surprised by my teacher's comment on the article that I wrote. She told me that I should submit my article to "The Facts" (which, honestly, I don't have any idea what it is about). So anyway, here are the best lines that I really really liked from my article:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...When I die, I want to be ready for it. There are so many lives to touch, so many people who have so much in them but are just in need of inspiration. I don't mind dying anytime as long as I have at least practiced the art of being of service to others. I want to die knowing I have lived a life shared with others and for others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worth of the person is not measured on the amount of money in the bank, or the number of properties that he had, or the number of titles he collected, or the highest educational attainment he has attained. The worth of a person is measured on how many doors he's opened especially those who refused to open the doors for themselves and those who cannot open the door for themselves."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm going to stand by what I said in that paper. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night! XD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7614918233475872064?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7614918233475872064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/rainmaker-excerpt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7614918233475872064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7614918233475872064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/04/rainmaker-excerpt.html' title='The Rainmaker excerpt.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-703696744495484308</id><published>2011-03-27T18:41:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T20:00:19.302+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random happenings on the past week.</title><content type='html'>Since I cannot think of a better title, I just have this. So anyway, last week was the last hell week for this school year. Yes mehn, its final exams! I don't know if I should be happy that summer's just around the corner or be sad because I might not enjoy the summer. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R62LfUmx3zo/TY8WOH1tzAI/AAAAAAAAARo/_IRSIiYNXbk/s1600/DSC_0230.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R62LfUmx3zo/TY8WOH1tzAI/AAAAAAAAARo/_IRSIiYNXbk/s400/DSC_0230.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588710094468402178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my schedule. As you can see, I have the whole book as coverage for both my Consti and Legal Ethics exam. I haven't read the entire book so perhaps that's the reason why I think I'm going to fail on these two subjects. But I just hope I do not :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While studying, I was eating skittles and then I decided that I will do something just to make me less boring. Haha. Took a picture of the candies and then ate it again. Eeewwwy, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--BiL08vLSJI/TY8efwH--CI/AAAAAAAAAR4/uY5aXtEG_D8/s1600/DSC_0235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--BiL08vLSJI/TY8efwH--CI/AAAAAAAAAR4/uY5aXtEG_D8/s400/DSC_0235.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588719193433241634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move on to what happened after the exams, we had dinner together with my classmates, then had an overnight session with my girl friends at the boarding house. Well, we're supposed to have our group study for Natural law because most of us don't have the copy of the final reporters' report and the other girls just dont want to go home just yet. Here's a photo of me with my girl best friends during our "slumber party".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lpSakweS7G0/TY8dcrNikMI/AAAAAAAAARw/-qrn3UQtGwc/s1600/DSC_0244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lpSakweS7G0/TY8dcrNikMI/AAAAAAAAARw/-qrn3UQtGwc/s400/DSC_0244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588718041063133378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love my girls! They are the reason why I'm still in the race. They cheer me up when I'm down and they are always there for me. I love them to death and I'm willing to sacrifice everything for them. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the words of my friend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: What comes before Part B???&lt;br /&gt;Answer: Party!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's our sem ender party! My friend Nadine and I came in "late" because I was still not decided to go there but when Makay texted me that she will be going, I decided that I should go too. Wala lang, moral support kay Maks if ever there will be something that'll happen. AND YES, SOMETHING HAPPENED! I bet someone's really really kilig right now. Haha :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GWLqG6Qvf5M/TY8iuJ77YvI/AAAAAAAAASI/L6KXOjK6ftY/s1600/DSC_0282.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GWLqG6Qvf5M/TY8iuJ77YvI/AAAAAAAAASI/L6KXOjK6ftY/s400/DSC_0282.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588723838926676722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hrjIvbjHu8A/TY8it92DovI/AAAAAAAAASA/2VvsOdQWVlw/s1600/DSC_0275.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hrjIvbjHu8A/TY8it92DovI/AAAAAAAAASA/2VvsOdQWVlw/s400/DSC_0275.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588723835680826098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Apprarently, that's all of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, I cried when Mommy G gave her speech on surviving law school, not being able to graduate with honors and learning to love God above all. :) I'll try to make a separate entry about it if topakon ko. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not supposed to write something tonight but there's something that tells me that I should. And I am doing it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I'm sad now. I wanted to cry. I wanted to get distracted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, please don't let this linger on too long. I'm so tired already. I want to be happy na. Please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-703696744495484308?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/703696744495484308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/03/random-happenings-on-past-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/703696744495484308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/703696744495484308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/03/random-happenings-on-past-week.html' title='Random happenings on the past week.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R62LfUmx3zo/TY8WOH1tzAI/AAAAAAAAARo/_IRSIiYNXbk/s72-c/DSC_0230.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-1965721309289112850</id><published>2011-03-18T22:27:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T23:06:49.294+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sean fun!</title><content type='html'>Sean (thru sms): I'm not in the mood to make my lab report!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Waaa! You're not alone! Me too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean: What do you have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I have court observation and a reaction paper. What do you have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean: PHYCHEM!!! AAAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Okay, let's do this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sean: FIGHTING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;I love Sean. He makes my Law life less boring. Hahahaha :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-1965721309289112850?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/1965721309289112850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/03/sean-fun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1965721309289112850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1965721309289112850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/03/sean-fun.html' title='Sean fun!'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-4235292713783315817</id><published>2011-03-17T21:49:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-17T22:49:26.429+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bar exam result sadness.</title><content type='html'>My status in Y!M says the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if the result induced it or something like that but one thing's for sure: I'm sad now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was having a nice day this morning, visited the Hall of Justice to actually witness a live trial and all those stuff then had lunch with my beautiful friends. It was supposed to be a nice day. Really, really nice then came the bar exam results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.02% only passed the bar exams this year. That's like what, uhmmm, 1/5 of the total population which took the bar exam. Too bad. Too sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know why I am THAT affected. I can't explain my sadness. I can't explain why I am reacting this way. Okay, maybe I can explain it but my reasons escape now as I try to write it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing, my best friend thinks her life is useless. I mean, not really useless but she thinks that her life is boring and that its okay if she just don't wake up the next day or something. Oh, good Lord. What's happening to my best friend? :( Please enlighten her, please please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last thing. I'm trying to finish some necessary things that I needed for my legal ethics project. These things I needed to finish consists 40% of my final grade. If I mess this up, I'm really really dead. And when I thought about those things, mom's words resonated in my mind now: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"summer class is not an option. You shall not have failing grades."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, no summer classes, please. I want to see Russia this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, now. I'm done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s&lt;br /&gt;Let's do this, Finals!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.p.s&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have the best-est people around me! :)&lt;br /&gt;After posting my ym status, one friend messaged me in y!m with this content:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I always check this if I'm sad or depressed, I think its about time i share this to you. Check this site,&lt;a href="http://1000awesomethings.com/the-top-1000/"&gt; http://1000awesomethings.com/the-top-1000/&lt;/a&gt;. Just remember that there are a lot of awesome things out there. Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-4235292713783315817?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/4235292713783315817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/03/bar-exam-result-sadness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4235292713783315817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4235292713783315817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/03/bar-exam-result-sadness.html' title='Bar exam result sadness.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5777873880299993</id><published>2011-03-13T13:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T14:10:17.467+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is chaos.</title><content type='html'>I’m back there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to when I was unhappy. I wish things would start over. I’d change a few things &lt;span&gt;and replace a few people.&lt;/span&gt; Or not. I don't really know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could wipe myself off the face of this earth. I want to prevent so many things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just.need.kindness. Why can’t people give it to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t need people to assume the worst of me again. It’s disheartening. Especially from those you worked so hard to change yourself for. It’s heartbreaking to see that they just thought of you the same way, and that you’ve never changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was useless. Begging them to see I’ve changed. They never believed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe there is someone out there who will see my true worth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5777873880299993?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5777873880299993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/03/this-is-chaos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5777873880299993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5777873880299993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/03/this-is-chaos.html' title='This is chaos.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-3427144569448314390</id><published>2011-03-01T17:54:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T22:05:07.732+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilty or Innocent :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Asked someone to marry you? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kissed one of your Facebook friends?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Danced on a table in a bar?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ever told a lie?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Had feelings for someone whom you can't have back?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ever kissed someone of the same sex?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kissed a picture?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Slept in until 5PM?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fallen asleep at work/school?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- GUILTY&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Held a snake?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stolen from a store?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty (Crown, I stole something from you eons ago! Hahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been fired from a job?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Done something you regret?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kissed in the rain?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sat on a roof top?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kissed someone you shouldn't?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sang in the shower?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shaved your head?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Slept naked?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Had a boxing membership?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been in a band?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shot a gun?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Donated blood?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eaten alligator meat?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eaten cheesecake?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Still love someone you shouldn't?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have/had a tattoo?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent (but I want one) --me too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Liked someone, but will never tell who?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been too honest?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ruined a surprise?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-GUILTY! Hahahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ate in a restaurant and got really bloated that you can’t walk afterwards?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Erased someone in your friends list?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dressed in a woman's clothes (if your a guy) or man's clothes (if your a girl)?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Joined a pageant?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Been told that you're handsome or beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Had communication w/ your ex?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; - Guilty DUH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DATING Someone?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Get totally drunk one night and you have an important exam tomorrow morning?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Innocent&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A total stranger treats you by paying your jeepney/tricycle fare?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Get totally angry that you cried so hard?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tried to stay away from someone for their own good?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thought about suicide?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;- Guilty :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-3427144569448314390?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/3427144569448314390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/03/guilty-or-innocent-d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3427144569448314390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3427144569448314390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/03/guilty-or-innocent-d.html' title='Guilty or Innocent :D'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-9004234389303042005</id><published>2011-02-27T19:38:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T19:41:07.855+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One of the Few.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I can't believe I'm texting with my best friends now. AS IN TEXT. AS IN REALLY TEXT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OhmygoodnessIneverFeltThisHappyForSuchALongTime!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels so good, baby!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GUESS WHO'S HAPPPPYYYYY? GUESSS WHOOOOOOOO? :DDDDD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, today's one of those days that I'm happy like a fool. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, sinong masaya???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-9004234389303042005?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/9004234389303042005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/one-of-few.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/9004234389303042005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/9004234389303042005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/one-of-few.html' title='One of the Few.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-2171393968879074338</id><published>2011-02-23T13:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T22:45:08.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5: A Picture of Somewhere you've been to.</title><content type='html'>Since I'm so tamad right now, I'll just be posting the &lt;a href="http://www.google.com.ph/imglanding?q=baguio+city&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;hl=tl&amp;amp;sa=N&amp;amp;biw=1366&amp;amp;bih=574&amp;amp;tbs=isch:1&amp;amp;tbnid=IP_0fWsBC761PM:&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://members.virtualtourist.com/m/b7e19/738/&amp;amp;imgurl=http://cache.virtualtourist.com/3573970-Travel_Picture-Baguio_City.jpg&amp;amp;ei=UG-DTYubOMWecLjs_P8C&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;w=560&amp;amp;h=401"&gt;link of a picture &lt;/a&gt;of somewhere I've been to. If you recognized it, then you're right, its the Summer Capital of the Philippines, Baguio City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My recent Baguio trip was with my blockmates in College way back 2008. It was the first "out of Mindanao" trip my blockmates had and believe it or not, we really did have fun. It was like field trip, for the first time again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there. No need to expound whatsoever. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-2171393968879074338?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/2171393968879074338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-5-picture-of-somewhere-youve-been.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2171393968879074338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/2171393968879074338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-5-picture-of-somewhere-youve-been.html' title='Day 5: A Picture of Somewhere you&apos;ve been to.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-1911848046751820591</id><published>2011-02-22T14:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T16:38:38.786+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4: A habit you wish you didn't have</title><content type='html'>We definitely have our different habits that we actually wish we didn't have. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHOAH. This is crazy but I'd say, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nailbiting&lt;/span&gt;. Hahaha. Until now, I still do it (I kind of stopped this habit in high school because I was wearing braces) and I know it's so eeew but what can I do? I do nailbite when I'm stressed, when I have nothing to do and when I'm super nervous. It may look like really bad but it's kind of my therapy as well. But anyway, although I wanted this habit to stop, I just can't. ITS A HABIT, dude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-1911848046751820591?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/1911848046751820591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-4-habit-you-wish-you-didnt-have.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1911848046751820591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1911848046751820591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-4-habit-you-wish-you-didnt-have.html' title='Day 4: A habit you wish you didn&apos;t have'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-8993498759983014230</id><published>2011-02-21T15:47:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T16:16:08.843+08:00</updated><title type='text'>RIP, Mark.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;To live in hearts we leave behind is not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;to die." ~Thomas Campbell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-90tm7O4wr0Y/TWIdnrjXQjI/AAAAAAAAARI/bMp-NkZYh6c/s1600/mo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-90tm7O4wr0Y/TWIdnrjXQjI/AAAAAAAAARI/bMp-NkZYh6c/s400/mo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576051856181248562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"&gt;Dear Mark,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any significant memories with you but I will always remember you as the student who greets me every time I get the chance to pass by in your classroom. Whether you're playing with your classmates or doing something else, you never fail to give me a greeting if we see each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The news of your death yesterday broke my heart to two. It then broke to pieces when I found out the face behind the name of the student they were talking about. I cried immediately because I remembered your face and I remembered the feeling you made me feel every time you give me that smile when you greet me. You were so kind, you were so young. I know you were full of hopes and you have lots of dreams. I don't know why all those things have to end so soon, so unexpected. But I know everything that happens has reasons. God has his own reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are a blessing Mark. I can imagine the pain all your loved ones are going through now. Imagine, I cried so hard even though we're not really close (our "conversations" revolved around the greetings), how much more those persons who actually know you since birth? They are in pain, but I know, God will take the pain that they are feeling, maybe not now but He will take them away soon. Sooner or later, they will come to realize why He have to take you away this early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't do anything as of now but to pray for your safe trip. We may not have many memories together but my memories with you will always remain--in my heart and in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please say Hi to God from me. I know you'll be one of his best angels there in heaven. Also please don't forget to always after the people that cares for you so much and please touch their hearts to see light so that they can realize the reason why you left early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy trip Mark! Have fun there in heaven!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours,&lt;br /&gt;Ma'am Iris :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*photo grabbed from Mark Orth's page&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-8993498759983014230?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/8993498759983014230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/rip-mark.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8993498759983014230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8993498759983014230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/rip-mark.html' title='RIP, Mark.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-90tm7O4wr0Y/TWIdnrjXQjI/AAAAAAAAARI/bMp-NkZYh6c/s72-c/mo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-3550692300109364827</id><published>2011-02-20T14:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T14:49:01.668+08:00</updated><title type='text'>POKER :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MmsMA5YgMoI/TWC4sKmwlaI/AAAAAAAAARA/2cPlxmsJPtg/s1600/DSC_0599.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MmsMA5YgMoI/TWC4sKmwlaI/AAAAAAAAARA/2cPlxmsJPtg/s400/DSC_0599.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575659407585351074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE BEEN ADDICTED TO POKER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, friends! Hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;Slept around 3am last night because of playing poker. Pft. I know, it's bad, but I can't help it!!! So anyway, next poker session: Saturday! Before Criminal Law classes. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, Nong Joyo explained to us the reason behind Lady Gaga's "Poker face". Wooot, much for knowing new things over night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good afternoon! I'm off to bed now. I'm soooo sleepy! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-3550692300109364827?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/3550692300109364827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/poker-d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3550692300109364827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3550692300109364827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/poker-d.html' title='POKER :D'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MmsMA5YgMoI/TWC4sKmwlaI/AAAAAAAAARA/2cPlxmsJPtg/s72-c/DSC_0599.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5803255722660959511</id><published>2011-02-19T23:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T16:31:50.557+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3: A picture of you and your friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A1lJM0v7w3E/TWTDsL9vhWI/AAAAAAAAARQ/oFEEI-eILTo/s1600/36.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A1lJM0v7w3E/TWTDsL9vhWI/AAAAAAAAARQ/oFEEI-eILTo/s400/36.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576797402484933986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a photo of my blockmates (Hello, 1A!) from our Christmas party last December. This is the first and only photo that all of us are present. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ib5806RJGac/TWTD_csMnTI/AAAAAAAAARY/4d1Bcs3imxk/s1600/47646_1605675673023_1570094474_31326067_4422949_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ib5806RJGac/TWTD_csMnTI/AAAAAAAAARY/4d1Bcs3imxk/s400/47646_1605675673023_1570094474_31326067_4422949_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576797733392260402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another photo from our high school reunion last December as well! These people are my highschool friends (yeah, obviously). Some graduated, some are in post graduate school, some are graduating and some are well, going to graduate soon. Yay, for reunions! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KjkVCGsw9wE/TWTFfEvFs3I/AAAAAAAAARg/bDeE3q0mtJE/s1600/31032010%2528001%2529.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KjkVCGsw9wE/TWTFfEvFs3I/AAAAAAAAARg/bDeE3q0mtJE/s400/31032010%2528001%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576799376229380978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Although I am not included in this photo, I have loved this photo of my college block mates ever since I took it. Every time I missed college, I just look at this photo and I'm then okay. Yay. I miss you, guys! :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5803255722660959511?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5803255722660959511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-3-picture-of-you-and-your-friends.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5803255722660959511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5803255722660959511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-3-picture-of-you-and-your-friends.html' title='Day 3: A picture of you and your friends'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A1lJM0v7w3E/TWTDsL9vhWI/AAAAAAAAARQ/oFEEI-eILTo/s72-c/36.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5896715987122503463</id><published>2011-02-18T22:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T22:39:06.443+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Someone's abandoning the idea of seeing me this summer. T________T</title><content type='html'>:(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5896715987122503463?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5896715987122503463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/someones-abandoning-idea-of-seeing-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5896715987122503463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5896715987122503463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/someones-abandoning-idea-of-seeing-me.html' title='Someone&apos;s abandoning the idea of seeing me this summer. T________T'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-789467219330550620</id><published>2011-02-17T13:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T16:19:55.608+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2: The meaning behind your Blogger name</title><content type='html'>Here's my blogger name:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://irislenoore.blogspot.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think there's a meaning behind that. Well, it's just my first two names plus my Lenore was added with one O so it becomes irislenoore. Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other blogger name has a meaning though (I still have another blog aside from this one) and well, I'm not going to discuss what's the meaning behind it. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-789467219330550620?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/789467219330550620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-2-meaning-behind-your-blogger-name.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/789467219330550620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/789467219330550620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-2-meaning-behind-your-blogger-name.html' title='Day 2: The meaning behind your Blogger name'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-4432323241447148597</id><published>2011-02-16T22:42:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T16:15:09.737+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1: A recent picture of you and 15 interesting facts about yourself</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gD3zMoeInb0/TVvjgmD81uI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/Cq9JjHZlLLs/s1600/DSC_0419.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gD3zMoeInb0/TVvjgmD81uI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/Cq9JjHZlLLs/s400/DSC_0419.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574299112913557218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Photo taken at Guimaras :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Fifteen Interesting facts about me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I love my friends and I care for them big time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Small and insignificant things amazes me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I love smelling the pages of books! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I read books. Any books. But as of now, I have been cheating on my leisure books. Haha. Sorry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I started living independently as early as first year in high school. Well, not really "independent" but I got to stay in the dormitory as early as that year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I managed our stores as early as elementary. I don't have a salary but my parents would give me something to "compensate" the things that I have been doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I saved a classmate's life during our second year in high school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. It may not look like it but I play almost all kinds of sports. Basketball, volleyball, softball, football, swimming, golf, tennis, table tennis, almost everything! Although I'm not really good at it. One sport I'm kind of proud would be badminton. I received medals from playing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I'm now addicted to poker, thank you friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I'm a craminal. My mind doesn't function well if the deadline is not yet near. Haha :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I'm now learning to appreciate people around me. If someone gives you time and makes an effort to see you, thank them. It's not everyday someone does that to you. Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I've never been inside Iligan City National High School. OHYEAH MEHN! BEAT THAT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I love my sisters. They may be annoying at times and I may not seem to care for them but I really love them. I miss them every day and I always remind myself that I'll still be able to see them. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. I am left-handed. Okay, wait. Is that interesting? Well, it is for me. Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. To plant a tree and skydive are two of the things I want to do before I die. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-4432323241447148597?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/4432323241447148597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-1-recent-picture-of-you-and-15.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4432323241447148597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4432323241447148597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-1-recent-picture-of-you-and-15.html' title='Day 1: A recent picture of you and 15 interesting facts about yourself'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gD3zMoeInb0/TVvjgmD81uI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/Cq9JjHZlLLs/s72-c/DSC_0419.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-6655545419106036502</id><published>2011-02-16T22:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T22:38:55.974+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thirty-day Challenge :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: left;"&gt; •Day 01- A recent picture of you and 15 &lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD5"&gt;interesting facts&lt;/span&gt; about yourself&lt;br /&gt;               •Day 02-  The meaning behind your &lt;strong&gt;Blogger&lt;/strong&gt; name&lt;br /&gt;               •Day 03- A picture of you and your friends&lt;br /&gt;               •Day 04-  A habit that you wish you didn’t have&lt;br /&gt;               •Day 05- A pi c tu re of somewhere you’ve been to&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 06- Favorite super hero and why&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 07- A picture of someone/something that has the biggest impact on you&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 08- Short term goals for this month and why&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 09- Something you’re proud of in the past few days&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 10- Songs you listen to when you are Happy, Sad, Bored, Hyped, Mad&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 11- Another picture of you and your friends&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 12- How you found out about Blogger and why you made one&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 13- A letter to someone who has hurt you &lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD7"&gt;recently&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 14- A picture of you and &lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD9"&gt;your family&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 15- Put your iPod on shuffle: First 10 songs that play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="float: left;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;             •Day 16- Another picture of yourself (baby pic!)&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 17- Someone you would want to switch lives with for one day and why&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 18- Plans/dreams/goals you have&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 19- Nicknames you have; why do you have them&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 20- Someone you see yourself marrying/being with &lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD10"&gt;in the future&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 21- A picture of something that makes you happy&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 22- What makes you different from everyone else&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 23- Something you crave for a lot&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 24- &lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD4"&gt;A letter&lt;/span&gt; to your parents&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 25- What I would find in your bag&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 26- What you think about your friends&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 27- Why are you doing this 30 day &lt;span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD2"&gt;challenge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 28- A picture of you last year and now, how have you changed since then?&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 29- In this past month, what have you learned&lt;br /&gt;             •Day 30- Who are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--I'll try doing this! Yay! Challenge it is! XD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-6655545419106036502?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/6655545419106036502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/thirty-day-challenge.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6655545419106036502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/6655545419106036502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/thirty-day-challenge.html' title='Thirty-day Challenge :)'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-817448308808692508</id><published>2011-02-14T21:20:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T22:12:21.076+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tusong threesome.</title><content type='html'>I love my friends (no doubt about that) and I'm so lucky to have them by my side every now and then. Although I haven't been communicating with some of them, I still know that whatever happens, we're still friends forever. And best friends, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discovered the concept of friendship by highschool. You know,  I have this barkada where there were 7 of us and then aside from it, I'm also close to other two persons, Karla and Catheryn. I call Karla Kikyu and Catheryn SC (So close).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jZwZgS7_AxU/TVkyfCldmTI/AAAAAAAAAQI/uPUpYOUZT6w/s1600/7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img dragover="true" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jZwZgS7_AxU/TVkyfCldmTI/AAAAAAAAAQI/uPUpYOUZT6w/s400/7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573541522699032882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is one of our high school photos with the three of us. Karla is in the middle while Cath and me are on the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come college, I met different people as well. I have a close relationship with my blockmates and made good ties with two of them, Joy and Bianca. Well, there was supposed to be four of us but Ryan's a different story. He's my best boy bud and I'll put him under a different classification. So anyway, here is a photo of Joy, Bianca and I during Valentine's day of last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p-9A3Dx0qO4/TVkzNVQ-XoI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/-0OCcG02bKI/s1600/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p-9A3Dx0qO4/TVkzNVQ-XoI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/-0OCcG02bKI/s400/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573542317987356290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Joy, Bianca and I in our computer laboratory last year :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from my block mates, I also made good bonds with the people from my org. There I've meet the "El Presidentes", which were the people who taught me to enhance my leadership skills. We spend time together because we need to organize some stuff and those things made us actually close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5nSEc66jOEw/TVkz9sMk4mI/AAAAAAAAAQY/WlFSt_1XFEU/s1600/6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5nSEc66jOEw/TVkz9sMk4mI/AAAAAAAAAQY/WlFSt_1XFEU/s400/6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573543148776645218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That's my Kuya Fred, me and my partner, Francis. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the "technical" part of the org, I became close to one of my orgmate and another from our brother org, the Learning Assistant Volunteers. At first, I'm not very comfortable with them because they are both Engineering majors and I feel like I'm out of place because they're from College of Engineering and I'm from the College of Science and Mathematics, but hey, it didn't stopped us from hanging out with each other every time we all have time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fMfHsaM6b1Y/TVk1JGokChI/AAAAAAAAAQg/Gs3p4UZ9LDI/s1600/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fMfHsaM6b1Y/TVk1JGokChI/AAAAAAAAAQg/Gs3p4UZ9LDI/s400/5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573544444363541010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That's me, Kuya Lemon and Emraiza during our graduation last year. I wasn't wearing my toga because I just don't feel like wearing it. Haha. But I graduated also! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So that was college. After college, there was supposed to be "real life" but then, I decided to actually take the boring and less travelled road called, "Law School". Okay, I chose to pursue studying and yeah, I also met lots of people with unique and cool personality! Come first semester, I was living in a new place with new people of course. With the help of my new found friends Ivy and Steph, I was able to survive my first semester in my "new" world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div dragover="true" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OTgxF6GRIms/TVk19DNP6sI/AAAAAAAAAQo/PT4KDxPgPNg/s1600/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OTgxF6GRIms/TVk19DNP6sI/AAAAAAAAAQo/PT4KDxPgPNg/s400/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573545336796867266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here I am with Steph and Ivy during one of our "study" sessions. I cannot find any decent photo of us, you guys. Hehe. But still, I love you both to death. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And now, for the finale (I'll still be updating this one though if I still get to meet close friends or all those something for those stuff). They were my constant uppers, my drugs, my pills and everything else! They were the people who constantly remind me to just have fun in law school and those people who always believe in me (well, I also have my friends and other friends and my family, whatsoever). And they are one of the reasons why I'm still in the race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NdXMyeI8ufU/TVk2_AfIf9I/AAAAAAAAAQw/kcgmaT8lIes/s1600/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NdXMyeI8ufU/TVk2_AfIf9I/AAAAAAAAAQw/kcgmaT8lIes/s400/4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573546469937938386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This photo of Nadine, Makay and me was taken just moments ago while still waiting for our NatLaw professor. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I treasure my friends and I treasure friendships. I'm a sucker for feel good friendship and all those things relating to friends. I may be very fragile in terms of trust and betrayal but I don't choose my friends. Okay, sometimes I choose my friends. Hello, you wouldn't want to make friends with someone whom you actually don't like, do you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you guys (seriously, I'm saying this in the most non-cliche way) and I don't know what my life would be if I haven't met any of you. I don't want to think of that shiz either. So there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a cheers to many more years of friendship! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY VALENTINE's :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-817448308808692508?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/817448308808692508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/tusong-threesome.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/817448308808692508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/817448308808692508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/tusong-threesome.html' title='Tusong threesome.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jZwZgS7_AxU/TVkyfCldmTI/AAAAAAAAAQI/uPUpYOUZT6w/s72-c/7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-509347580580545512</id><published>2011-02-13T17:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T22:13:04.322+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beach Weekend.</title><content type='html'>Question: What do you do when you feel so stressed out from all of the sort of shiz in the city???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer: GO TO A BEACH TRIP WITH YOUR BEST GIRL FRIENDS! :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DftuM6VLzCQ/TViYSH_kT1I/AAAAAAAAAQA/uyEDmXA4ois/s1600/DSC_0307.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DftuM6VLzCQ/TViYSH_kT1I/AAAAAAAAAQA/uyEDmXA4ois/s400/DSC_0307.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573371976021725010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My weekend was so amazing. It was really a great one since I got to bond with my closest girlfriends! It was an overnight of fun, laughter, weight gain and total bonding! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAY FOR A WEEKEND OF FUN! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-509347580580545512?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/509347580580545512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/beach-weekend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/509347580580545512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/509347580580545512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/beach-weekend.html' title='Beach Weekend.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DftuM6VLzCQ/TViYSH_kT1I/AAAAAAAAAQA/uyEDmXA4ois/s72-c/DSC_0307.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-4562702870212142628</id><published>2011-02-10T21:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T21:50:41.788+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Incoherence.</title><content type='html'>I was supposed to start ranting as to how my Crim Law exam went but then I decided I should just keep it to myself because everything I am feeling moments ago were just spur of the moment emotions which I really cannot contain. But I'm okay now, thanks to my roomate *hugs*&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyway, I'm planning to go somewhere over the weekend and I've yet to find out where to go. I will be with my girlfriends (yay!) so it's basically one of my ultimate bonding experiences with them. I want to feel that I'm still alive and that I still have a life. Hello? Hahaha :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really apologize for yesterday's emo post. I was in a situation where I couldn't tell anyone so I just have to write it somewhere and then post it or something like that. There.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I'm going to bed now. Time to rest. Tomorrow will be another battle of studying. Wooo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GOODNIGHT! :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-4562702870212142628?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/4562702870212142628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/incoherence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4562702870212142628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4562702870212142628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/incoherence.html' title='Incoherence.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-8404000881501902931</id><published>2011-02-09T10:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T11:07:46.727+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What if...</title><content type='html'>...the person you thought who got away now comes back in his shining white uniform?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will you let the moment pass again? Or take risk and don't care over your what if's?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember vividly, four years ago, my friends told me its NOW OR NEVER. A good follower that I am, I took the chance and got my heart broken--FOR THE FIRST TIME. I admit I had a hard time moving on. I was sixteen, I was in college, I am fragile and yes, I am stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to 2011, he's back. I am not sixteen anymore, I am not in college anymore and believe it or not, I can say that I am not stupid anymore. But will these things stop me from getting my heart broken again? I guess not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've matured and it's about time to make mature decisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wait, should I take him back?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-8404000881501902931?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/8404000881501902931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-if.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8404000881501902931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8404000881501902931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-if.html' title='What if...'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7929370714845010069</id><published>2011-02-06T18:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T19:20:51.971+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fight or flight.</title><content type='html'>You're the only one who knows what's good for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7929370714845010069?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7929370714845010069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/fight-or-flight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7929370714845010069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7929370714845010069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/fight-or-flight.html' title='Fight or flight.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-413223219558605040</id><published>2011-02-01T15:24:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T15:55:16.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cos I'm obviously bored :P</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;This survey gets a little personal can you handle it? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ohsure! Geow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you married the last person you texted, what would your last name be?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ignacio hahaha :) Pero I'm not going to encroach on Makay's love affairssss XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you talked to a complete jerk today? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's a fact about the last person who text messaged you?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Errrr lalaki siya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Want someone back in your life?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are you excited for?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SUMMER! Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What were you doing yesterday? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just hanging out with friends :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Honestly, who was the last person to tell you that they love you? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Errrrr mom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's the last thing you put in your mouth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Nagaraya peanutssss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you scared to fall in love? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you think teenagers can be in love? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course. Why, are they not allowed to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last person you wanted to punch in the face? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too busy to remember :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What time is it right this second? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:44pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is it easy to make you cry?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you find it hard to trust others? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. I have trust issues and all those stupid stuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you care too much/not at all/just enough? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too much, I guess?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How fast does your mood change? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normal lang :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you tell people you're ok when you're really not? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, just to keep them from asking too many questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is someone you wish you could fix things with? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sandy Angelou :( Haaay. I wish she's still here. Pero I know she's watching me from up above. I love you Kruuu! &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever worn the opposite sex's clothing?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oo hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When is your next road trip?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IDK yet. Prolly this weekend! YAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Six hours solo? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you have someone of the opposite gender you can tell everything to? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of the moment, none :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What would happen if you had a baby with the last person you kissed?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It'll be my worst nightmare haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is your hair curly or straight?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wavyyy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are you doing tomorrow? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uhmm study for Oblicon? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Name something you dislike about the day you're having?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm bored X.X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. You tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever in any way, been betrayed by someone you trust? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES. LOTS OF TIMES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How late did you stay up last night and why? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 1am? I was still giving love advise to someone. Wuhahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you picky about who you give your number to? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What do you prefer: Pizza Hut or Domino’s?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pizza Hut :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did anyone see you kiss the last person you kissed? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope, but some friends know about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever gotten a teddy bear from a girlfriend/boyfriend?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YEAAAH. Glooomyyy bear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you still talking to the last person you kissed? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, but if time would allow us to, I would. He can still be a great friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Would you rather go to Greece or Hawaii? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greece. Hawaii is just another beach or something. I need a change of scenery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is wrong with you right now? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who is the last person that made you laugh?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makay? Hehe I love you Maks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you going through any pain at this time? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of pain are you talking about? Physical, emotional? LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What did you do this afternoon? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing, just slept xD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are you doing tonight? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tutor someone, she'll have an exam tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who was the last person to look at you like you were crazy? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IDON'TKNOW hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is there a person of the opposite gender who means a lot to you? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you hate the last guy/girl you had a thing with? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At a point, yes, I hated him but now, we're cool and we're good. Although we don't really talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Who was the last person you cried in front of? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boss. When I told her about my "situation" :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did the one person who hurt you the most in your life apologize?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Do you think that you’re a good person? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my own POV, yes, of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you held hands with anyone today? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever thought about getting your lip pierced? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No plans haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have a best friend?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yezzzzzzzz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you had more than 3 boyfriends/girlfriends at the same time? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you have any plans for the weekend? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getaway with blockmates!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For the rest of the week? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Study for the exam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you in a good mood right now?&lt;br /&gt;Yezzzz!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Are you on medication for anything? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, for my nerve chuvaness which actually strips my hair off. Badtrip!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you were upset, who's the first girl you would go to?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makay, Nadine, Joy or Bianca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;What made you upset today? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever liked someone older than you? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YEAAAAAH! :))))))))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you have a good relationship with your parents? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh-huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did your last kiss mean anything? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uhh lust? Joke. Goodbye kiss. Hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you think you can last in a relationship for 3 months? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes! You bet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you have any neat scars? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever donated blood? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, but I'm scared to donate again T___T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you eat breakfast daily? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever been to SeaWorld? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, oceanpark lang hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What’s your favorite animal? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOG :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;do you enjoy watching football?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you afraid of the dark? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For reason I cannot explain, No. I love darkness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you a forgiving person?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, but I don't easily forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you sleep with your door closed or open? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Closed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you like hugs? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YESSS. I have this theory where in a particular person needs a particular number of hugs everyday and if s/he doesn't reach that particular "quota" depression will then occur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Could you go out in public looking like you do now? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Errrr, sure! Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Will your next kiss be a mistake?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Does seeing old couples in love make you mad? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOOOO. Why whould it make me mad? O.o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you tired? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of what? Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pickles - love them or hate them?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neitherrrr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Were you single on your last birthday? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. For 4 years now. Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you okay with embarrassment? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I'm not cool with it. Embarrassing kaya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you waiting for something? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RESULTS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who was the last person you took a nap with?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you ignore people when you're mad/ upset? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I ask them what's wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you get stressed out easily? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeaaah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Can you hula hoop?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEFORE! Hahaha I don't know now. I haven't tried&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you get distracted easily? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeaah, I have a very short attention span&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is it easier to forgive or forget? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Can you handle the truth? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, of course! I always want the truth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Can a boy and girl be friends without having feelings for each other? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Napakawaley ng question na to. Hahaha. Of course naman no!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-413223219558605040?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/413223219558605040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/cos-im-obviously-bored-p.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/413223219558605040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/413223219558605040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/02/cos-im-obviously-bored-p.html' title='Cos I&apos;m obviously bored :P'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-999510153181430664</id><published>2011-01-23T11:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T11:09:00.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prejudice.</title><content type='html'>I rarely sleep early because nightmares come to me in the middle of the night. But today I slept like a baby and woke up with a particular image in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how one person can break all my prejudice and animosity for people his kind. It’s like I have this long list of aversion for people like him and every day he gives me reason to cross things out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Now I have a blank list and it’s ready to be filled up again but now with reasons why I should like him.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-999510153181430664?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/999510153181430664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/01/prejudice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/999510153181430664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/999510153181430664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/01/prejudice.html' title='Prejudice.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-788068763167796069</id><published>2011-01-10T19:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T19:19:38.874+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;I could really use a friend today :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Where are you now, you guys?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;GOD, please make me feel better. Please please please.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-788068763167796069?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/788068763167796069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/788068763167796069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/788068763167796069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7809565463198866539</id><published>2010-12-29T13:35:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T14:24:33.047+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas in our hearts. :D</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It was my first Christmas Party with my Post graduate blockmates and every one of us felt like we are obliged to actually make it memorable and fun. The original plan was supposed to be an overnight stay at the beach (Guimaras) but because of time constraints (Makay's leaving for Manila on Saturday and I will be going home on Sunday), there was change of plans. Instead of going to the beach on Saturday and staying there overnight until Sunday, the gang decided to just have the Party on Friday night (that was after our Prelim exams in Legal Ethics, it was our last exam for the year) and then have &lt;i&gt;Simbang gabi &lt;/i&gt;the the next morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have here series of photos as to what actually happened during that night. It was my first night out with my friends and well, it was indeed memorable. And for the record, this was the first time all of the 1A gang was complete (no absent, mehn!) and I was happy. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Talk about forcing to feel the Christmas season. Haha :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are the photos:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrNMIdxNjI/AAAAAAAAAPs/b5-lN04bTFk/s1600/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrNMIdxNjI/AAAAAAAAAPs/b5-lN04bTFk/s400/1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978698629396018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We ate our dinner in Afrique's. We then decided to look for a place later on so that we can exchange our gifts properly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrNL07BXoI/AAAAAAAAAPk/J7MJXOTptkw/s1600/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrNL07BXoI/AAAAAAAAAPk/J7MJXOTptkw/s400/2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978693383380610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A complete shot with the blockmates :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrNLzqCwUI/AAAAAAAAAPc/7zDizf4SUPo/s1600/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrNLzqCwUI/AAAAAAAAAPc/7zDizf4SUPo/s400/3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978693043732802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The "boys"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;L-R&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nong Joyo, Earl, Nong Fonsi and Clavel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrNLgIfpQI/AAAAAAAAAPU/3MrflDLymqQ/s1600/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrNLgIfpQI/AAAAAAAAAPU/3MrflDLymqQ/s400/4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978687802746114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The "ladies"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nang Reg, Nang Shiela, Nang Garlit and Makay!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM9OBPJ-I/AAAAAAAAAPM/MUwfdXREoHU/s1600/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM9OBPJ-I/AAAAAAAAAPM/MUwfdXREoHU/s400/5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978442422298594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The "wlaaaak" team&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Makay, Nadine and Me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM9Jc_6uI/AAAAAAAAAPE/VWOinux8JJk/s1600/6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM9Jc_6uI/AAAAAAAAAPE/VWOinux8JJk/s400/6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978441196563170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The "we-should-go-home-early" team&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nang Reg, Gillian, Leobelle and Nang Yveth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(they were actually the ones who cannot go to dinner/lunch outs most of the time. It's because either their parents don't want to or they just don't want to go with us)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And so the time where we exchange gifts "arrived". I was the one who started it all then the process continued. LOL. I wasn't holding any gift because I already gave it to my baby, Gillean.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM8yXJQ2I/AAAAAAAAAO8/vtTbeigzKYI/s1600/7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM8yXJQ2I/AAAAAAAAAO8/vtTbeigzKYI/s400/7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978434997994338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The "look" on Gillean's face while I was talking about the whole "describing" thing. Haha. I wasn't supposed to tell Gillean that she was my baby but I just couldn't contain it anymore!! :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM84F3KeI/AAAAAAAAAO0/gFuwqco8m9o/s1600/8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM84F3KeI/AAAAAAAAAO0/gFuwqco8m9o/s400/8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978436536117730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Then Gillean's turn. Her baby was no other than, Nang Yveth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM8myFVcI/AAAAAAAAAOs/4Y5NWbuXTGI/s1600/9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM8myFVcI/AAAAAAAAAOs/4Y5NWbuXTGI/s400/9.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978431889757634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nang Yveth's baby turned out to be her classmate since college, Nang Regina! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM0AKqaNI/AAAAAAAAAOk/ZJrMCwyd7Bw/s1600/10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM0AKqaNI/AAAAAAAAAOk/ZJrMCwyd7Bw/s400/10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978284084914386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Guess who was Nang Regina's baby??? Hahaha. Nobody than Earl! :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM0NtgE5I/AAAAAAAAAOc/y9-M_of0Z7o/s1600/11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrM0NtgE5I/AAAAAAAAAOc/y9-M_of0Z7o/s400/11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978287720698770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Earl was not surprised that Nang Regina gave her wine as a gift. Hahaha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nang Regina's reason: &lt;i&gt;La na gid ko time magpanumdom ano ihatag ko cmu!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMz_7UiuI/AAAAAAAAAOU/UT96VyS3RIE/s1600/12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMz_7UiuI/AAAAAAAAAOU/UT96VyS3RIE/s400/12.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978284020566754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Earl's baby was his ka-love team, Nang Garlit!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMzjYElDI/AAAAAAAAAOM/_HLwPU49YUY/s1600/13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMzjYElDI/AAAAAAAAAOM/_HLwPU49YUY/s400/13.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978276356527154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nang Garlit's baby was someone she described as "wittingly beautiful". It was no other than..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMzm-U0gI/AAAAAAAAAOE/_sCpkTekvik/s1600/14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMzm-U0gI/AAAAAAAAAOE/_sCpkTekvik/s400/14.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978277322281474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...MAKAY! Hahaha! Makay was shocked to find out that she was Nang Garlit's baby because all those time she was thinking she was my baby! Haha. Then when it was Makay's turn, the shocking of the shocking was revealed. Her baby was "&lt;i&gt;amo lang ni sa ang student na kilala sang prof ta sa isa ta ka subject!!&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMqIWavaI/AAAAAAAAAN8/qfu3cbibYXA/s1600/15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMqIWavaI/AAAAAAAAAN8/qfu3cbibYXA/s400/15.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978114483010978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...the "wlaaaak" leader, NADINE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMqJh2BZI/AAAAAAAAAN0/GjSUooW-20Y/s1600/16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMqJh2BZI/AAAAAAAAAN0/GjSUooW-20Y/s400/16.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978114799371666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nadine's baby was no other than her co-Psych major, Nang Shiela! (I wondered if she found out about it earlier??)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMpx0y0MI/AAAAAAAAANs/7KipxXYTE0w/s1600/17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMpx0y0MI/AAAAAAAAANs/7KipxXYTE0w/s400/17.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978108436402370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nang Shiela described her baby as someone, "&lt;i&gt;Pirmi ni sa gakalate&lt;/i&gt;"...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Everyone was then shouting: "&lt;i&gt;CLAVEL!!!&lt;/i&gt;!" And well, yeah, he was!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMp4hQdGI/AAAAAAAAANk/zH8y5K39Ay4/s1600/18.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMp4hQdGI/AAAAAAAAANk/zH8y5K39Ay4/s400/18.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978110233506914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Clavel's baby was Nang Cute and then Nang Cute's baby was...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMppQ_esI/AAAAAAAAANc/jVworsPIWaw/s1600/19.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMppQ_esI/AAAAAAAAANc/jVworsPIWaw/s400/19.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555978106138753730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...no other than Nong Fonsi!!! Hahahaha! Nang Cute described him as:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"&lt;i&gt;favorite gid ni sa ni Queen B&lt;/i&gt;!" Wooooh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMgi2xj7I/AAAAAAAAANU/XAC8nw14IrI/s1600/20.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMgi2xj7I/AAAAAAAAANU/XAC8nw14IrI/s400/20.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977949799354290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nong Fonsi's baby was Leobelle, who already found out about it earlier because Nong Fons actually asked her to help him wrap the gift for his "baby" :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMghH9ynI/AAAAAAAAANM/LS_faWkAkgs/s1600/21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMghH9ynI/AAAAAAAAANM/LS_faWkAkgs/s400/21.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977949334588018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Leobelle's baby was BOSS!! She already have the idea that it was Leobelle but I just confirmed it because the fun will be spoiled. Then finally, Boss baby...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMgSQWYJI/AAAAAAAAANE/30NZ9wHlZJQ/s1600/22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMgSQWYJI/AAAAAAAAANE/30NZ9wHlZJQ/s400/22.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977945343221906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...was nobody else but ME! Weeeh, I didn't really have the idea that I was her baby because I have been asking her to exchange babies with me and then she was at first hesitant, blah blah blah. Haha. So anyway, the "chain" ends their and there were still two persons left. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMgZ_Pf1I/AAAAAAAAAM8/S2XLqxPLM5Q/s1600/23.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMgZ_Pf1I/AAAAAAAAAM8/S2XLqxPLM5Q/s400/23.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977947418951506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When it was Nang Bel's turn, her baby turned out to be Nong Joyo. Then she was Nong Joyo's baby. Haha. It just seemed like they actually exchanged gifts :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMgGKNYdI/AAAAAAAAAM0/W3eXZbwdTvo/s1600/24.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMgGKNYdI/AAAAAAAAAM0/W3eXZbwdTvo/s400/24.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977942096241106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The "exchanger" cheka hahaha :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;THIS IS OUR FIRST CLASS PICTURE ALTOGETHER!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMQdu4OeI/AAAAAAAAAMc/n0za0qwqF2U/s1600/36.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMQdu4OeI/AAAAAAAAAMc/n0za0qwqF2U/s400/36.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977673546152418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;From Left to right:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Earl, Nang Cute, Nong Fonsi, Nang Shiela, Nong Joyo, Nang Bel, Clavel, Makay, Nadine, Me, Nang Regina, Nang Yveth, Michelle, Leobelle and then Gillean&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMQE0O4TI/AAAAAAAAAMU/a_l9yoBmM74/s1600/37.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMQE0O4TI/AAAAAAAAAMU/a_l9yoBmM74/s400/37.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977666857722162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The "early birds" decided to call it a night so they went home first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMP45pCGI/AAAAAAAAAMM/MVB0MwkgKT8/s1600/38.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrMP45pCGI/AAAAAAAAAMM/MVB0MwkgKT8/s400/38.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977663659182178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The rest were left there and were still talking about different stuff before deciding to go to Pototan. It's like a 30-minute ride away from the City. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When we arrived at Pototan, we then have this shot:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrL6qF8HUI/AAAAAAAAAME/aGFwspEyApo/s1600/39.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrL6qF8HUI/AAAAAAAAAME/aGFwspEyApo/s400/39.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977298906979650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nang Shiela, Gillean, Nadine, Me and Michelle in the front of the Municipal Hall (I'm not sure) :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrL6kLL4LI/AAAAAAAAAL8/A6pPScUFTzg/s1600/40.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrL6kLL4LI/AAAAAAAAAL8/A6pPScUFTzg/s400/40.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977297318371506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The ANGELS!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrL6cXWWbI/AAAAAAAAAL0/YyuQTGZns-M/s1600/41.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrL6cXWWbI/AAAAAAAAAL0/YyuQTGZns-M/s400/41.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977295221905842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The "dayo"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Michelle, Gillean, Nang Cute, Nong Joyo, Earl, Me, Nang Bel, Nadine, Nang Shiela and Nang Garlit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It was Nong Fonsi who actually took this photo because he was the one from Pototan. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;After our Pototan trip, we decided to have a "nilaga" somewhere in Jaro. They said it was the best nilaga in town. We decided to have a soup before going to the Simbang gabi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrL6XhY1SI/AAAAAAAAALs/_iF5Pa5VHgI/s1600/42.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrL6XhY1SI/AAAAAAAAALs/_iF5Pa5VHgI/s400/42.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977293921834274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;before ordering&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrL6FcPsnI/AAAAAAAAALk/KQvpBNu8Ta8/s1600/43.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrL6FcPsnI/AAAAAAAAALk/KQvpBNu8Ta8/s400/43.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555977289068425842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;while eating :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And then we had our simbang gabi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;During the mass, I even cried for certain reasons. Hahaha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So there. That's how I get to spend my first Christmas with my post graduate blockmates :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;p.s&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I know its kind of late, so, Advance Happy New Year! :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7809565463198866539?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7809565463198866539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-in-our-hearts-d.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7809565463198866539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7809565463198866539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-in-our-hearts-d.html' title='Christmas in our hearts. :D'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TRrNMIdxNjI/AAAAAAAAAPs/b5-lN04bTFk/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5071930013879836792</id><published>2010-12-25T18:54:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-25T19:00:17.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 6: Five People who mean a lot to you (In no order Whatsoever)</title><content type='html'>1. Parents &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Siblings :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.College Friends (you guys know who you are)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. JT + Highschool Friends :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Post graduate friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, only five? But I can give so much looooove! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5071930013879836792?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5071930013879836792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-6-five-people-who-mean-lot-to-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5071930013879836792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5071930013879836792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-6-five-people-who-mean-lot-to-you.html' title='Day 6: Five People who mean a lot to you (In no order Whatsoever)'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5470730124830032303</id><published>2010-12-24T08:27:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T08:28:24.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 5: Six things you wish you'd never done.</title><content type='html'>1.Not speaking to my mom for almost two months because she miscarried my baby brother. I should have thought that I shouldn't have blamed her but just comforted her for July's loss. Instead, I actually made it hard for her even more :( (Okay, that was my darkest days. I was young and immature hahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.Fought with my dad and made him cry for various reasons. (But I then grow up and know what's right)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.To have hurt my siblings that way. They were always been supportive of me and I was just so... walang utang na loob? Weh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.I never should have hurried to be in a relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.To not show that I care for the people who cares for me. My friends are the best bunch I could ever have and I can never be thankful for having them in my life (I'm saying this in the most non-cliche way, you know haha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.Take things for granted. (you know what I mean)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This could actually go on a little longer but okay. Just six. haha :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU GUYS! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5470730124830032303?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5470730124830032303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-5-six-things-you-wish-youd-never_24.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5470730124830032303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5470730124830032303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-5-six-things-you-wish-youd-never_24.html' title='Day 5: Six things you wish you&apos;d never done.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-4209008482012962910</id><published>2010-12-23T13:44:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T14:21:49.282+08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHO WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY HOW?</title><content type='html'>First was my mom, then my dad, then my elder sister, then my titas (there were 4 of them) and finally my Lola--all of them actually didn't get an answer from me when they asked me what I wanted for Christmas.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, really, I don't know what I wanted as well. I mean, when people actually asks me what I would want, I would just simply smile and tell them I don't know because that's true. I don't have any specific thing that I actually wanted for Christmas. If only I could ask something weird like, good grades (hello Legal Ethics) and free uno, then sure, I'm going to ask for that. But it's just that, these grades are actually the things that I should work on so, I'm not going to ask for it this Christmas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last September, I actually asked God for peace of mind as his Christmas gift for me this Christmas and well, he already gave it so what else more can I ask, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Probably, this Christmas, I'll just wish for something intangible like, peace of mind to each and every person that I care for plus contentment in every thing that they do. And well, I hope that every one of them will be able to find their happiness or I hope that they're going to be happy even just on Chrismtas day. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had our high school batch reunion last Tuesday (Dec 21). My best friend Lara and I were actually talking about random stuff and then she asked me a question something like:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;"when you find out you're going to live for only 100 days, are you going to tell everyone that you're dying?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I actually told her to repeat the question again for me to give time to think and after repeating it, I told her that I wouldn't be telling my people about my death. She asked why and I just told her that I'm just going to die and it's not the end of the world. She laughed and told me that my other friend (Cheeny) also said the same thing (well, not the answer but the fact that she will not tell the people that she's dying as well) and I asked Lara what her reason was, the reason:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;"I don't want people to treat me any differently just because they find out that I'm dying. I'm dying, okay. So would that mean you're going to be kind to me? No, thanks."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I was, YEAH RIGHT. So there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our reunion was super fun, although there were only about 1/4 of us but still, it was really really fun. It was actually the first time that we hang out together as "grown ups" haha (cheka) but really, seeing my classmates really makes me feel happy. Some of them are already graduating this year (yay for engineering classmates) and some of them are already professionals (hello, Geologist!), some are in graduate school and some were..to graduate soon :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night was the first night that I get to sleep on my room, on my bed, with my pillow. The first and second night that I arrived here, I was in my lola Gaga's wake so I didn't get to have ample of sleep and on the third night was our reunion so we decided to catch up with each other on Leo's place. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My sleep last night was the best sleep ever. I slept at around 2am (I still have to finish some stuff before actually going to sleep) and then woke up at around 10am. I'm not supposed to wake up but my mom is already telling me that I should so I did. Then, after having my breakfast, I slept again (wow, baboy syndrome hahaha) and just woke up now. Perhaps, I'll sleep again after posting this one or I might read my books that's actually waiting to be read by me. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanted to enjoy the vacation but I don't know how. I was actually relieved to find out that my surgery will be moved on summer (my two-week Christmas break was not enough to do all the procedures and stuff so my doctor decided to just move it on summer. Good thing my mom also agreed. So, I'll still be taking my medications for the mean time while summer's not yet over). So you know what that means???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;IT MEANS I'LL BE STAYING AT HOME THE WHOLE CHRISTMAS BREAK (well, except on the 26th when we're going to have our college dinner out and on the 27th when I'll be going to meet LOA) and I FREAKIN' LOVE IT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know but I actually find bliss by just staying at home. Sleeping, reading some books, watching movies--that's my idea of break. Well, the reunions and meeting other people are bonuses. Break is procrastinating to the highest level! Haha :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay. This is nonsense. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll go now. Time to read my books :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BYE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;p.s&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;MERRY CHRISTMAS!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-4209008482012962910?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/4209008482012962910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/who-what-when-where-why-how.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4209008482012962910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/4209008482012962910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/who-what-when-where-why-how.html' title='WHO WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY HOW?'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5888604689156977313</id><published>2010-12-07T08:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-07T09:21:52.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Highschool Survey!</title><content type='html'>*Since I'm not YET in the mood to do my Crim and Consti notes, I'll do this first. Hahaha.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Anong section mo nung first year ka?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Emerald&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Eh nung 2nd year?&lt;br /&gt;- Kamia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) 3rd year?&lt;br /&gt;- Sodium&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) 4th year?&lt;br /&gt;- Electron&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Anong best year for you?&lt;br /&gt;- Sodium, third year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Marami ka bang friends nun?&lt;br /&gt;- Ok lang Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Saan kayo kumakain kapag lunch?&lt;br /&gt;- Riana's :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Saan tumatambay after skul?&lt;br /&gt;- Canteen, "basurahan", bleachers, dorm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Lagi ka ba late pag morning?&lt;br /&gt;- Sometimes Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Nasuspend ka na ba?&lt;br /&gt;- Parang hindi pa ata eh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) Bakit?&lt;br /&gt;-  :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) Have you ever danced on stage?&lt;br /&gt;- Yeah, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) Nanligaw ka ba noon? (for boys) May nanligaw ba sayo nun (for girls)?&lt;br /&gt;- Wala :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) Nagka bf/gf ka ba nung highschool?&lt;br /&gt;- Hindi eh :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) Sino all time crush mo nun?&lt;br /&gt;- Wala eh, I change crushes from time to time haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) Would you go back sa HS?&lt;br /&gt;- Oh sure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) Ano lagi mong binibili sa canteen?&lt;br /&gt;-Hmm Juice+Cubee Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) Overpricing ba ang canteen nyo?&lt;br /&gt;- OO!!! SOBRA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19) Nakakita ka na ba ng multo sa school?&lt;br /&gt;- Wala hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20) Have you ever sang on stage pag may program?&lt;br /&gt;- Never :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21) Fave subjects?&lt;br /&gt;- Chem, Bio :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22) Bumagsak ka na ba?&lt;br /&gt;- Hindi Hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23) Have you ever been sent out?&lt;br /&gt;- Nope *oy, good girl haha*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24) Malayo ba ang HS building sa canteen?&lt;br /&gt;- Hindi naman, okay lang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25) Have you ever ran in the court?&lt;br /&gt;- Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26) Varsity?&lt;br /&gt;- Volleyball and basketball :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27) Do you miss your school?&lt;br /&gt;- Hell yeah!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28) Sino pinaka-dakila sa batch niyo?&lt;br /&gt;- si Lara? Or was it Paul?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29) Ano mga awards mo nun?&lt;br /&gt;- Wala hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30) Mga advisers mo?&lt;br /&gt;- Sir Villanueva, Mam Lagapa, Mam Lugatiman, Sir Ramayla and Sir Atayan :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31) Naging officer ka ba?&lt;br /&gt;- Class and Batch officer, then sa isang org haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32) May nakaaway ka ba nun?&lt;br /&gt;- Oo :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33) Anong role mo pag foundation day?&lt;br /&gt;- Ewan hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34) Pinaka close mo nun?&lt;br /&gt;- Lara, Ann, Sittie, Cheeny, Avon and Denise! They were close to me in our own way. Ayyy. I miss them! :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35) Pumasok ka ba sa CR ng opposite sex?&lt;br /&gt;- Oo, doon kami naliligo dati! Hahaha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Eto, mas detailed :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;FIRST YEAR:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Do you know exactly where your room is?&lt;br /&gt;-- I remember our section was called "nomad" because we moved from one classroom to another. Haha. So, yeah. Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What section are you?&lt;br /&gt;-- Emerald!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Are you a total stranger in that school?&lt;br /&gt;-- Yes. I don't have any elementary classmates T_T&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. First person to become your friend?&lt;br /&gt;-- Ella! She was still speaking tagalog by then because she thought Pisay people speaks tagalog! At ako naman, nagtatagalog din kasi "hindi ko alam na dapat pala magtagalog" Haha. Weh, memories!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Do you still remember your 1st day in high school?&lt;br /&gt;-- Uh-huh. I remembered one teacher asking the valedictorians and salutatorians to please stand up. I was shocked to see that there were only two of us left sitting. I felt like a fish jumping in the sea of sharks O_O (note: My other classmate graduated first honorable mention! Haha. FML)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Your best friend that time?&lt;br /&gt;-- Ann Lucille :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Who was your seatmate at that time?:&lt;br /&gt;-- Mardee! How can I forget?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Did you have a special someone at that time?:&lt;br /&gt;--  Nope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. How many were you in your class?:&lt;br /&gt;-- 19&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Favorite teacher?:&lt;br /&gt;-- Sir Mike! Hahaha. My Earth Science teacher. He's the one who actually introduced me to the very interesting science of Astronomy! :) Ahhhh! I miss the star gazing days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Anything significant thing happened that year?&lt;br /&gt;-- Mmmm. Noli Me Tangere play? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Any batch theme song?&lt;br /&gt;-- Not that I know of. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SECOND YEAR:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Your section is:&lt;br /&gt;-- Kamia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Name something special happened that year:&lt;br /&gt;-- El Fili photo op!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. How many were you in class?:&lt;br /&gt;-- 20&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Did you have the same classmates?&lt;br /&gt;-- Nope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Favorite place to hang out:&lt;br /&gt;--Canteen, dorm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Something bad happened that year?&lt;br /&gt;-- Yes. Hahaha. When we actually get to talk to the director because we don't like our adviser. Mwahahaha. WTH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Did you have a significant other&lt;br /&gt;-- No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIRD YEAR:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Your section:&lt;br /&gt;-- Zoooojum, where animals live! (Sodium)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Your adviser:&lt;br /&gt;-- Mam Lugatiman and Mr Ramayla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Favorite place to hang out.&lt;br /&gt;-- "basurahan", canteen, Espra!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Something memorable that happened:&lt;br /&gt;-- We won the cheerdance. Hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Hobby that year:&lt;br /&gt;-- Pingpong!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Any batch theme song?&lt;br /&gt;--At the Beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Any significant other?&lt;br /&gt;-- No :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Anything special happened that year?&lt;br /&gt;-- Prom? Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOURTH YEAR:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Your section?&lt;br /&gt;-- ELECTRON!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. best bud:&lt;br /&gt;--Lara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Favorite place to hang out.&lt;br /&gt;-- Boarding house, canteen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Anything special happened that year?&lt;br /&gt;-- Graduation, beybeh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Have you undergone any disciplinary action?&lt;br /&gt;-- OMG Yes! Hahaha. I wasn't able to run for student council because of that :P Ay, my bad. It was during my third year. Hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ktnxbye. :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5888604689156977313?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5888604689156977313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/highschool-survey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5888604689156977313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5888604689156977313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/highschool-survey.html' title='Highschool Survey!'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-3030600941977232135</id><published>2010-12-06T14:43:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T15:00:14.202+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I weep.</title><content type='html'>I always have this trouble of attachment.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...and I really really hate it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's to another day of crying over a dog :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;p.s&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy birthday to my beautiful sister, Pearl! :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-3030600941977232135?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/3030600941977232135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-weep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3030600941977232135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3030600941977232135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-weep.html' title='I weep.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-3898500671669963875</id><published>2010-12-03T12:57:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T13:01:29.486+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 4: Seven things that crossed your mind a lot.</title><content type='html'>1. How am I going to make it happen?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I shall travel the whole world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Life is indeed beautiful! It may suck sometimes but it's definitely worth it. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Have I been a good example to people?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Hold on to the things that matter to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Let go of the people who don't deserve to be in your life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Shut up if you can't say anything nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-3898500671669963875?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/3898500671669963875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-4-seven-things-that-crossed-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3898500671669963875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/3898500671669963875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-4-seven-things-that-crossed-your.html' title='Day 4: Seven things that crossed your mind a lot.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-8019107272472458038</id><published>2010-12-01T17:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T17:53:56.567+08:00</updated><title type='text'>December sickness.</title><content type='html'>The worst way to welcome December? Being sick.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I literally cried myself to sleep last night. My mom was not around, my dad is out of reach and my sisters are already asleep. I remember when I was younger, when my tooth hurts (okay, I cried because of my toothache), I'd always go to my mom and tell her that it actually hurts and I cannot go to sleep until the pain goes away. My mom knows what to do. She gives me medications and then I'd sleep soundly, beside her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night was a very very different case. I had toothaches while I was growing up but not as painful as the pain I'd experienced last night. It was the worst so far. If you think having grown a wisdom tooth is already painful, my experience last night was nothing compared to it. So for you to have an estimate as to how much it hurts, I'd say, the wisdom-tooth-pain is 5% ONLY compared to last night. THAT'S HOW PAINFUL IT WAS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, good thing my room mate was not around so she was not able to hear me cry my heart out. That was like the most embarrassing thing that could probably happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fast forward to early morning. As early as 5:30, I was already awake and was fixing my bed when my mom called me. I asked her why she called as early as that time (she usually calls me around 8am, after cooking breakfast) and guess what she said?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;b&gt;"I dreamt of you crying. I don't know what is it about but you were just crying. I cannot go near you because there had been some obstacles. When I woke up, I was worried so I decided to call you."&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After hearing it, I was superbly amazed! (See, that's how my emotions to my mom are actually connected that she actually saw what happened to me that night haha kidding). I told her that I actually cried and that it was because of toothache. My mom was laughing and asked me why I didn't called her the night before and I told her that I experienced the pain around midnight already and I cannot disturb her slumber. So, she gave me the meds I should take as well as the dosage of every meds. There.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, I watched Three Idiots. My friends in college have been telling me to watch the movie eons of times already but I really cannot find time not until last Friday. Haha. After watching the movie, I was really amazed. Okay, I cannot expand on it. Hahaha. Basta, I recommend that you should watch it too! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Went to Antique last Sunday to spend time with my sister and dad. We had lunch, did the grocery, had coffee then they went home and I went back here. I felt so good that I was able to see my sister again (I haven't seen her for almost 6 months). We were just talking about random stuff and she'd always tell me that I did changed a lot. If I asked her what changes it is, she'd just grin and would rather not comment. But before we parted ways, she told me this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Ai, always keep doing what's making you happy and everything will just follow."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hugged her before going inside the van that would take me back to Iloilo. Hehe. I love my sister. She's already grown up and is learning lots of things in life. Yeah, before I forgot, on my way home, I saw the most beautiful sunset I have laid my eyes on. It was the perfect sunset ever. I tried to get a photo of it but my lens cannot actually capture the beauty I have been seeing using my naked eye. Cheka lang. But seriously, it was the best sunset so far. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have decided to make forgive and forget the persons who's not going to be a part of my future anymore. What I did was I decided to meet all of them in one place and I told them about how hurt I was that they did it to me and they said sorry. I told them I forgive them and told them to just go on with their lives. I was having a small talk with them before actually saying goodbye. On my way home, I received a text from one of the persons involved and asked if we could still be friends and I said no. Hahaha. I know, I'm so mean. Hehe. But hey, he deserved it. Trust is one of the most important factor for me to be friends with someone and if there's no trust, what would be there, right? He already betrayed me once and I cannot fathom that he will not betray me again blah blah blah. Haha. So, I think I that's it :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the confrontation, I felt like my heart was lighter and that I can actually sleep soundly at night. Naks. But seriously. I'm happy I did it. It's the first time I've confronted a group! Haha! And it's amazingggg. :D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ITS DECEMBER!!! I might be sick now but I know I'll be fine. Weeeh. Because of my toothache, I had fever and chills. Weh. I've taken meds already so I guess I'll be fine soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Merry Christmas!!! :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-8019107272472458038?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/8019107272472458038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/december-sickness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8019107272472458038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/8019107272472458038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/december-sickness.html' title='December sickness.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7784248959368542848</id><published>2010-11-29T12:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T17:17:13.175+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3: Eight ways to win thy heart</title><content type='html'>1. Love God more than me. I can't say no to someone who actually has a very good relationship with the Almighty.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Speaking of Almighty, you should get along with my family and friends (some). My dad actually likes someone who has an opinion about different stuff. Like, for example, politics, government or something and the like.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Be mentally stimulating. Or let's just say... have an opinion. Argue with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Humor. I also can't say no to someone who makes me laugh. I'm a boring person so I really don't have that humorous side or something. Basta, just make me laugh then geow! :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Be there for me. Well, not really 24/7 but please make me feel that you'll always be there for me no matter what. Ups and downs and whatevers. Sometimes, I just need someone to talk to and well, if you're there, then better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Please don't be more emo than me. Hahaha. I admit, I'm emo sometimes. Hahahaha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Understand me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. Bear with my weirdness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7784248959368542848?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7784248959368542848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-3-eight-ways-to-win-thy-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7784248959368542848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7784248959368542848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-3-eight-ways-to-win-thy-heart.html' title='Day 3: Eight ways to win thy heart'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-7849726331185691105</id><published>2010-11-24T11:34:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T11:55:42.996+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2: Nine Random Things about me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;1. I love books. It may not show that much but I really do. And yes, I love smelling their pages, too! If you're thinking of something to give me as a gift, a book would be the safest choice. I mean, whatever book that is as long as its a book, then I'm cool with it. And I'm serious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I like the smell of gasoline and rugby. I don't know with other people but I actually like its smell (or maybe I can just tolerate its smell). Haha. Adik much. :p&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. I collect items but I don't get to use them. I have collections of necklaces, earrings, footwears, scarfs, bracelets and watches but I never really use them. I get so impulsive on buying these items but once its settled already in my closet, it remains there until.. uhm, forever? Haha. That's why sometimes my sisters get the privilege to use it (have it even).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. When I go to vacations, I never really buy souvenir items unless a particular item reminded me of you. So if one day I come up to you and gave you something as a souvenir from one of my trips, then consider yourself lucky because that would mean I remembered you while I was in that place. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. In connection with number 4, my most favorite place in the world would be airports. :P Okay, go figure out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. While I was growing up, I was never really close to any of my parent because I grow up with my yayas. I would just remember eating breakfast with them and the kissing them when they already left for work and then having dinner with them at night. Good thing, my yaya always reminds me that my parents are actually working and they're doing it for me. When I was in my elementary, I got close to my mom because she was the one who personally tended me in my whole elementary years. When did I get close to my dad? Prolly the time when I was beginning my high school years :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. I have three other GIRL siblings. Yeah mehn! We're all girls! :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. I had braces in my whole high school life and early part of college. Sucks to be me, huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. My first pet was Jacko. I had him when I was in my 6th grade, my dad gave him to me as a graduation gift. He passed away two years after. :( (another random fact: second year high school was my most rebellious year because of the things that happened in school, family and everything. Good thing I survived that year!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-7849726331185691105?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/7849726331185691105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-2-nine-random-things-about-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7849726331185691105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/7849726331185691105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-2-nine-random-things-about-me.html' title='Day 2: Nine Random Things about me.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-5646801924443307113</id><published>2010-11-23T20:49:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T11:32:57.734+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1: Ten things you wanted to say to ten different people right now.</title><content type='html'>1. I don't know how to say this but I miss you. I really miss you. I miss the times we just talk about nonsense stuff and then laugh about it or something like that. Time passed and we actually drifted on each other and because of that, I wanted to have another best friend that's more like you. Can you tell me, is there a "you" patent? Or maybe, I was just too sensitive about this whole thing that I felt this yet you still feels the same?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Thank you for always being there. Through the good and bad times, for all the senseless and sensefull texts, for being with me 24/7, for hearing my rants as to how my day went, for EVERYTHING, thank you so much. I couldn't be more blessed to have you as my adviser slash mentor slash friend slash guru. Hahaha. And, please lang, choose to be happy. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. I'm your friend but you being too emotional is too much to handle already. If you can sense it,  I rarely reply to your texts because your topic is always about "him" and I'm quite tired of all the things you were supposed to say. You guys were good when it lasted but it's over so, can you just please move on? It's been almost a year! I'll really be happy if you talk about how you feel good about yourself or how your day has been. It's about time you pick up yourself and start anew. When your thing ended, that wasn't the end of the world. There's still more guys than him. Arrgh. Basta. Just move on, please? :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. I hope you're doing good over there. I may not really show it but I actually care for you so much. Just give me time over this whole family thing because I'm quite adjusting. Honestly, when you didn't spent the day with me last Tuesday, I felt bad. I was actually thinking the night before as to how I'm going to spend the day with you--just random talking as to how your life has been and stuff, I was then trying to make the "less ulaw" effect because I know it will not bring me any good. It didn't happened. We just met in the airport, talk for about thirty minutes and then you left again. Talk about breaking promises. But you know what, I still love you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. I'm so glad that you didn't know that I have this blog but in case you do, I hope you won't realize that this is you I'm actually talking about. Hahaha. Nevertheless, thank you so much for sharing me good books, music and movies. I've learned something from it and in case you don't know, I learned something new from you every single day. And oh anyway, can you please have a girlfriend na? Hahaha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. You're so lucky to have me as your friend and I know you know that! Hahaha. But you know that I should be thankful that you crossed into my life because I don't know what will happen to me if you didn't. My life would be okay but it would be less fun. Meaning, you bring the fun baby! Cheers to more macho dancing! HAHAHAHA! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7.  I reserved this number for you because I know you actually like the number 7. :) 7 is heaven, and completeness, right? Naks. So there. I miss you. We haven't seen each other in what.. *counts* four years already? Ohmy. Ohyes. I haven't actually seen you after high school graduation and that really sucks. However, we still update with each other and that makes our friendship even better. I hope you can come to our highschool reunion so that I'll get to see your face. I miss you so much! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. HOY REGISTERED NURSE! Naks naman. I'm so proud of you! Even though we never really communicate at all, you're still the one person I'd always share my thoughts about some things. I miss our sessions. Hahaha. You know what that sessions are. Please woman, magpakita ka na saken! :))&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. There are still times that you'd cross my mind and I'll ask myself if I miss you or not and then I'd realize that I miss you in a sense that I miss the unsolicited advices you give to me. Even though I may not say it that much but I just want you to know that I'm so thankful that you actually crossed my life. There's always a reason for everything and well, whatever the reason why we ended up this way, I've still to find out. But one thing for sure, the time we were together, you were loved by me. In all ways possible, in all ways I can imagine, I loved you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. This goes out to the number one person I wanted to  be when I grow up. You are my inspiration, you are my strength. Every time I feel so sad about the whole thing, I just stop and remember you, and then I become happy again. You are my happiness. You are always there for me even though sometimes you know that it's partly my fault yet you never really blamed me. I may not say it eye to eye but I love you so much and I don't know what will happen to me if you're not there. For all the hurts and all the bad words I said to you, I'm so sorry. I'll try to be better soon. And yes, your birthday's fast approaching! Advance happy birthday, Beautiful! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-5646801924443307113?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/5646801924443307113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-1-ten-things-you-wanted-to-say-to.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5646801924443307113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/5646801924443307113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/11/day-1-ten-things-you-wanted-to-say-to.html' title='Day 1: Ten things you wanted to say to ten different people right now.'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7593582144209082417.post-1311504691621045311</id><published>2010-11-22T15:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T15:23:23.616+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Your week! :))</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I received a random text message from my friend this morning and it read:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TOoaQbstvnI/AAAAAAAAAKk/yMt09aA8zwU/s400/Picture%2B213.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542271161048350322" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TOoXhSUhC5I/AAAAAAAAAKc/DCDGwqqCg4s/s1600/Picture%2B213.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I don't know what gotten into me but I started forwarding the text to my friends changing "our" to "your" (I don't really think I'm gifted and talented like that) and most of them replied with: &lt;b&gt;"you really think so? thank you so much."&lt;/b&gt; -- and that was all it takes for me to make my day complete.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see, I always have this thing of believing on other people's dream. I always see to it that I can be counted as someone who actually thinks that they can do it. It's one of my birthday wishes actually. So there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of birthday, I just turned 21 last Monday (that's a week ago) and well... there's nothing new, except for the age. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was supposed to be just like any ordinary day but thanks to those people who made some extra effort(weh, you guys know who you are :P), you made it extraordinary. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being 21 is just a number. I know there's more to life than that number. And I'm gonna make the best of it :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, by the way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;IT'S YOUR WEEK! WHY? IT'S THE NATIONAL WEEK FOR THE GIFTED AND TALENTED! :D&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;K. Bye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm off to school :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7593582144209082417-1311504691621045311?l=irislenoore.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/feeds/1311504691621045311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/11/your-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1311504691621045311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7593582144209082417/posts/default/1311504691621045311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irislenoore.blogspot.com/2010/11/your-week.html' title='Your week! :))'/><author><name>Iris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18166729691730198461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TNYRUSCsI-I/AAAAAAAAAJ0/YuwGMgrvbLo/S220/Picture+039.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FdSWNUXxokc/TOoaQbstvnI/AAAAAAAAAKk/yMt09aA8zwU/s72-c/Picture%2B213.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
