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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UERH4_fip7ImA9WhRbFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258</id><updated>2012-02-07T07:00:05.046+08:00</updated><category term="Boracay scenes" /><title>looking for direction</title><subtitle type="html">"Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/LookingForDirection" /><feedburner:info uri="lookingfordirection" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0AFQH08fSp7ImA9WxFaF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-4201576476502455056</id><published>2010-07-22T15:40:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T16:01:51.375+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-22T16:01:51.375+08:00</app:edited><title>Return on Investment</title><content type="html">Yesterday, I was down to my last P150. I attended the 6pm mass and I was of two minds whether to give my P100 as offering because I owed it to God or if I'll just give it on Sunday after getting my salary today. In the end I decided to surrender the money to God. During the mass and after I was thinking of how to juggle my money so that I can pay my debts for the month. I was looking for ways where I can get or borrow extra cash but nothing came to mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I got part of my salary earlier. It was not enough but I have to make do with it. While at the Cashier's window, I saw my name in the list of those who have not claimed their Performance Incentive Bonus (P2000) and asked to submit the required documents. I knew I submitted the documents already but did not claim my bonus because somebody told me I was not entitled since I was on study leave the whole of last year. I went to the HR just to tell them that I submitted the documents and that I did not claim my PIB because I was on leave last year. I had to wait for the Director to finish with the visitor to consult her about the PIB. When I finally spoke to her hurriedly, she told me that I was still entitled because I was on official leave. Well, I did not argue anymore. The P2000 was more than welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I have additional money to pay my debts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Give God his due and God will give back to you. Turn your water into wine."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-4201576476502455056?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DkZcC6vQItr8JR8EQ7L8PvOzTAw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DkZcC6vQItr8JR8EQ7L8PvOzTAw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/N4qB0MFLs-Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/4201576476502455056/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=4201576476502455056&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/4201576476502455056?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/4201576476502455056?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/N4qB0MFLs-Y/return-on-investment.html" title="Return on Investment" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2010/07/return-on-investment.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYMQnszfip7ImA9WxFaF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-7257924743737441964</id><published>2010-07-22T14:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T15:19:43.586+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-22T15:19:43.586+08:00</app:edited><title>Blessings</title><content type="html">It's been so long since I've posted an article here.  A lot has happened but I'm not up to writing it in detail.  Last year I finally got a scholarship to study abroad.  It was not in the countries that I thought I wanted (I went to Seoul, Korea) but it was definitely one of the best experiences in my life. The whole year was one grand adventure, something that seems like a dream when looking back.  I was also able to travel to Beijing, Kyoto, Bangkok and Viet Tri. I also got a black belt for Tae kwon do in less than a year. Who would have thought?  It's really true that God does not always give us what we want be he definitely gives us what we need.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-7257924743737441964?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0O60CVTaKp2YFaZuv7E1CrApQVQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0O60CVTaKp2YFaZuv7E1CrApQVQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/AYPLy-HrR2s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/7257924743737441964/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=7257924743737441964&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/7257924743737441964?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/7257924743737441964?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/AYPLy-HrR2s/blessings.html" title="Blessings" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2010/07/blessings.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUEQ3c6cSp7ImA9WxZVF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-6248004916432227671</id><published>2008-03-29T17:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T17:33:22.919+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-03-29T17:33:22.919+08:00</app:edited><title>Senseless Chatter</title><content type="html">I'm so sleepy&lt;br /&gt;You're making me weepy&lt;br /&gt;From too much yawning&lt;br /&gt;So please stop your blathering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyelids fall&lt;br /&gt;Can't stop gravity's pull&lt;br /&gt;Your voice on and on drones&lt;br /&gt;But I can only hear Morpheus groans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So stop your nonsense&lt;br /&gt;Just listen to my snoozn'&lt;br /&gt;Which is more entertaining&lt;br /&gt;Than your endless buzzing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-6248004916432227671?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NjASOWUxOwQFjD2Lz2Yj2Bslz1I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NjASOWUxOwQFjD2Lz2Yj2Bslz1I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/I2-ztxMB7_o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/6248004916432227671/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=6248004916432227671&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/6248004916432227671?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/6248004916432227671?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/I2-ztxMB7_o/senseless-chatter.html" title="Senseless Chatter" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2008/03/senseless-chatter.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8CQ3c_cSp7ImA9WxRbGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-2631740392672254297</id><published>2008-01-30T19:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T16:41:02.949+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-11T16:41:02.949+08:00</app:edited><title>Service and God's Will</title><content type="html">The day before I left for Singapore I received again the glitch text about faith. I did not give it another thought because I was somewhat already convinced that this was a technology glitch.  When we got to Singapore, it completely skipped my mind.  It was almost midnight when I got back to the hotel that Saturday night.  I had asked my friend who lives there to check out on the internet the nearest Catholic Church to Fagrance Hotel Imperial where we were staying.  Before we arrived in Singapore, my bestfriend's friend told her that there was a very nice church in Bugis, which was just a station away from Lavender, the MRT station near our hotel.  Unfortunately, we forgot to ask her for directions to the church.  So when I arrived at the hotel, I asked the 2 front desk guys where the nearest church was, the younger one answered in a terse way that the nearest was in Novena.  I was not so convinced because I noticed earlier in the day that the Novena MRT station was quite far and you had to change stations at the City Hall to take the Red Line in order to get to Novena.  However, I did not want to argue with him that there was 1 in Bugis since I did not know where it was.  What I did was search the internet at the lobby.  However, I did see anything about a church in Bugis per se.  Also, I was not familiar with the streets so I wouldn't know if these were near Bugis or not.  But I located the church he mentioned in Novena.  So I decided to ask them for directions to Novena.  However, since I still had some minutes remaining from my internet rent (S$1/15 minutes), I decided to check my email.  The first thing I saw was a regrets letter (yes, another regrets letter) from the World Youth Day 2008 regarding my application to the position of Media Operations Assistant.  I was somewhat disappointed (again).  But I was thinking that I could still apply as a volunteer.  When I got to my room I saw that I had a text message from my friend.  He was able to locate a church in Bugis, St. Joseph along Victoria Road.  Before I went to sleep, I asked God to help me know His will and to guide me in finding the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R6Kcx2GT3PI/AAAAAAAAAQc/ocrCB8sqyD8/s1600-h/P1110109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R6Kcx2GT3PI/AAAAAAAAAQc/ocrCB8sqyD8/s200/P1110109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161860503069514994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The next day I left my friends eating breakfast while I hurried to the MRT to go to Bugis.  When I got to Bugis I looked for Victoria Road in the direction signs and followed it.  As I was looking, I saw written, Church of Our Lady of Lourdes.  I followed this instead of looking for St. Joseph since there were concrete directions.  Maybe this was God's way of guiding me.  I was taking a chance since I did not know the mass schedule of this church, so if it did not have a mass scheduled for 10am then I would be late already if I had to go and look for St. Joseph Church. I was lucky that there was a mass, and an English mass at that.  The church was dominated by people from the Indian subcontinent but there were Filipinos, Chinese, Africans and even one or two Caucasians.  While I was praying and waiting for the mass to start, the singer for the Psalm came forward to practice. Guess what the Responsorial Psalm was? "Here I am Lord, I have come to do your will."  I was getting goosebumps at that time.  I was thinking, if during the homily the priest will talk about anything connected to World Youth Day then maybe it's a sign that I should apply for their volunteer program. Then the mass started.  The readings were about doing God's will and about service. During the homily, the priest talk about service.  His first example was the man he called, "Servant of Servants," Pope John Paul II.  Whaaaat!!! Pope John Paul II was the proponent of the WYD.  Is this a sign? Hehehe. He went on to mention Gandhi and I think Mother Theresa.  Then the priest went on and expounded about being in God's service and following His will. At this time it seemed that the sky opened up and sunlight was streaming through the stained glass windows lighting me like a spotlight.  Boy was that a tearful moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got back to Manila, I was resolved to apply as a volunteer to the WYD 2008 but I was still deciding on whether to apply as a communications volunteer or a registration volunteer. My friend told me to pray for it.  Unfortunately, when I got around to applying,  the  WYD 2008 committee  has upgraded their website and there was no mention anymore of long term volunteer program and choices were more limited. I emailed the WYD for clarification but so far they have not responded yet.  Was this another closed door? Following God's will is really hard because it's hard enough to discern His will, but when you think you know what it is, you find out that your interpretation was wrong.  It's really an adventure and full of tests.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-2631740392672254297?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T6yzlcF-hTwtkRCkMiV7890G0Io/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T6yzlcF-hTwtkRCkMiV7890G0Io/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/-zKv0qyYNeg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/2631740392672254297/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=2631740392672254297&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/2631740392672254297?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/2631740392672254297?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/-zKv0qyYNeg/service-and-gods-will.html" title="Service and God's Will" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R6Kcx2GT3PI/AAAAAAAAAQc/ocrCB8sqyD8/s72-c/P1110109.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2008/01/service-and-gods-will.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYMSXY-cSp7ImA9WxZSFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-5456428455878136866</id><published>2008-01-30T09:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T09:56:28.859+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-01-30T09:56:28.859+08:00</app:edited><title>Which way Lord? Show me</title><content type="html">this is a prayer given to me by nun friends:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prayer to Obtain Vocations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Jesus, Divine Master, who said:&lt;br /&gt;"The harvest indeed is great, but the&lt;br /&gt;laborers are few," we lovingly accept&lt;br /&gt;your invitation: "Pray the heavenly&lt;br /&gt;Father to send forth laborers into&lt;br /&gt;His harvest."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspire a devout crusade for vocations:&lt;br /&gt;"All the faithful for all vocations." More&lt;br /&gt;priests! More religious, both men and&lt;br /&gt;women! - to fill the earth with religious&lt;br /&gt;houses which welcome Your favored&lt;br /&gt;children, and which will be centers of&lt;br /&gt;light and warmth, sources of piety,&lt;br /&gt;gardens of saints, singing "glory to God&lt;br /&gt;and peace to men of good will."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Mary, "God's chosen one," Mother and&lt;br /&gt;guardian of holy vocations, pray with us,&lt;br /&gt;pray for us, and for all those called by God.&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-5456428455878136866?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9exKz-ZOm5euSMMhqdjzcvnJ4Ac/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9exKz-ZOm5euSMMhqdjzcvnJ4Ac/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9exKz-ZOm5euSMMhqdjzcvnJ4Ac/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9exKz-ZOm5euSMMhqdjzcvnJ4Ac/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/H2K4N3InhFQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/5456428455878136866/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=5456428455878136866&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/5456428455878136866?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/5456428455878136866?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/H2K4N3InhFQ/which-way-lord-show-me.html" title="Which way Lord? Show me" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2008/01/which-way-lord-show-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YFQXo6eyp7ImA9WxZTFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-3330054117197946820</id><published>2008-01-16T12:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T12:51:50.413+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-01-16T12:51:50.413+08:00</app:edited><title>What's wrong with Globe</title><content type="html">hay, i received again a text message sent months ago. this time it was the second part of a message my friend ei sent on how to cook shabu-shabu.  hehehe.  so, where the previous messages God speaking, or just technology glitch?  let's just wait and see&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-3330054117197946820?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G9BUCJTGClxFSYuoDEQVr3r36cc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G9BUCJTGClxFSYuoDEQVr3r36cc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G9BUCJTGClxFSYuoDEQVr3r36cc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/G9BUCJTGClxFSYuoDEQVr3r36cc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/KdcslW1k_6M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/3330054117197946820/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=3330054117197946820&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/3330054117197946820?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/3330054117197946820?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/KdcslW1k_6M/whats-wrong-with-globe.html" title="What's wrong with Globe" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2008/01/whats-wrong-with-globe.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAGSXkzfCp7ImA9WB9aGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-2238411248020417613</id><published>2008-01-10T14:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T14:32:08.784+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-01-10T14:32:08.784+08:00</app:edited><title>Really, Really Weird</title><content type="html">the day after my last post, i received the message again, re: dare to love.  it was the same technology glitch message.  it was 11pm already. then when i read the 1st reading for that day,  it was something from 1 john, about love also, God's love. then i think the 1st reading yesterday was a continuation. still about love and how if there is fear, it can't be a perfect love.  waaahhh...i don't know what to think.  i know that i have fears when it comes to loving, especially in a man-woman relationship.  i have a hard time trusting such kind of love.  or maybe God is telling me that my love for him is still lacking, that i still let my fear rule my love for him.  maybe i'm still not really trusting him wholeheartedly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-2238411248020417613?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MHMQf8O3DXEwVQ0CRkZq5hMVXUM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MHMQf8O3DXEwVQ0CRkZq5hMVXUM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MHMQf8O3DXEwVQ0CRkZq5hMVXUM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MHMQf8O3DXEwVQ0CRkZq5hMVXUM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/UKbMfWJ8iTw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/2238411248020417613/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=2238411248020417613&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/2238411248020417613?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/2238411248020417613?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/UKbMfWJ8iTw/really-really-weird.html" title="Really, Really Weird" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2008/01/really-really-weird.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMGSH8yfyp7ImA9WB9aF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-5055674475575625856</id><published>2008-01-07T21:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T21:27:09.197+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-01-07T21:27:09.197+08:00</app:edited><title>This is Getting Weird</title><content type="html">i was on my way home earlier when i felt my phone vibrate.  it was on silent mode since i was traveling.  when i opened my inbox, i saw that i had a message from a friend who is a nun.  i read her forwarded message, it was the same one she sent before, because of my experience last saturday i checked the date the message was sent, it was november 20, 2007.  when i scrolled back  to the inbox because i had another message, it reflected an icon of an unopened message beside her name. i don't know why i'm being haunted by this kind of technology glitch.  is it really just a technology glitch or is this God's way of reminding and comforting me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;earlier this evening i told a friend about what happened. he told me it also happened to him before, the resending of message from months before.  given that there is really a technology glitch, how come these are the messages that speak to me now at this point in time? coincidence or something greater? something that requires me to have faith and believe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is the message &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;"i want to invite you to dare to love. do not desire anything less for your life than a love that is strong &amp;amp; beautiful &amp;amp; that is capable of making the whole of your existence a joyful undertaking of giving yourself." - Pope Benedict XVI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*as i was finishing this piece, a thought popped into my head, send it to judc, my friend who is in qatar.  she emailed me earlier about how uncomfortable she feels about the sexual promiscuity of the people around her.  i hope that the message will strengthen her convictions and she'll not be influenced by her environment and her loneliness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-5055674475575625856?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1YkgUKb1_TjcZOgsgAakOpfE3qs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1YkgUKb1_TjcZOgsgAakOpfE3qs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1YkgUKb1_TjcZOgsgAakOpfE3qs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1YkgUKb1_TjcZOgsgAakOpfE3qs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/UO89ziUZPTY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/5055674475575625856/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=5055674475575625856&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/5055674475575625856?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/5055674475575625856?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/UO89ziUZPTY/this-is-getting-weird.html" title="This is Getting Weird" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2008/01/this-is-getting-weird.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEDRng8fip7ImA9WB9aFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-5135255012002637834</id><published>2008-01-06T21:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T22:44:37.676+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-01-06T22:44:37.676+08:00</app:edited><title>Message through Text</title><content type="html">yesterday, around lunch time, i received a forwarded text messagefrom a friend in singapore. it read&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;"what is faith? it is the confident assurance that something we want is going to happen. it is the certainty that what what we hope for is waiting for us. even though we cannot see it up ahead" (hebrew 11:1)&lt;/span&gt;.  i was a little surprised to receive it because since my friend went abroad he has not been sending forwarded messages.  he gets in touch because of some favor he wants to ask or to ask how we are here but no more forwarded messages.  i smiled when i received it because i needed reinforcement in this time of waiting and because i already received the same message from him months before.  when i scrolled back to my inbox, i saw that there were two more messages from him but when i opened his next message, it was still the same.  so i scrolled back to my inbox again to open the third message. alas, there was something wrong with my phone.  it still showed that there were still two unopened messages and when i tried to open the second to the last message, the same faith message appeared.  i went back to the main menu to give my phone time to recover.  since my inbox was almost full, i deleted some messages from my inbox.  i then forgot about it because the friend i was waiting for arrived. we had lunch then waited for another friend and her family pick us up. we went to global fun carnival for a day of liberating the kids in us.  when we got there, another surprise was waiting. majority of the instructions for the rides and were written in german. a fleeting thought passed through my mind, "hmm... is God trying to say something?"  but i did not dwell on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;around 7pm while waiting in a very slow moving long line to ride a very short unsatisfying ride, i thought of writing about the forwarded message and the german instructions here in my blog, like what i'm doing now, so i checked my phone to see if the message was still in my inbox. when i saw that i had deleted it, i texted the roaming number of my friend in singapore to forward the message again to me.  imagine my surprise when he asked what message that was since he can't remember forwarding any message that day.  when i searched my inbox for previous messages, because i can faintly remember saving that same message months before, i saw that he first sent it last september 9, 2007.  i felt a little light headed.  what if this was really God's way of telling me not to lose hope? that somehow, someday, i'm going to go to study abroad. one rational explanation is that my friend just forgot that he forwarded the message earlier or another most likely explanation was that there was a glitch in the technology.  it has happened to me before. i received text messages several days after they had been sent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but what i choose to believe is that God sent that message through my friend because He knows how down i have been feeling regarding how my life seems to be going in no particular direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this was further reiforced when i attended mass earlier today.  today is epiphany sunday, when the three wise men brought gifts to the child Jesus to reveal to the world that he was Lord and King. i just had my epiphany a day earlier but considering that saturday night can already be considered the start of sunday in the church, as evidenced by the celebration of anticipated masses on saturday nights, my epiphany was just right on time.  now, i'll just have to wait for God to reveal his plan for me, i just hope that it's not going be 33 years, the life span of Jesus' human life according to bible scholars. that, just maybe 2008 is going to be my year after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-5135255012002637834?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qOk_SROnIjgzEadFLxM7lg7dSvg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qOk_SROnIjgzEadFLxM7lg7dSvg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qOk_SROnIjgzEadFLxM7lg7dSvg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qOk_SROnIjgzEadFLxM7lg7dSvg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/TOs1R681mZM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/5135255012002637834/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=5135255012002637834&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/5135255012002637834?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/5135255012002637834?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/TOs1R681mZM/message-through-text.html" title="Message through Text" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2008/01/message-through-text.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8CR3o-fCp7ImA9WxRbGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-4297124970423920627</id><published>2007-12-24T20:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T16:41:06.454+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-11T16:41:06.454+08:00</app:edited><title>Historic Corregidor</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o85oSE2sI/AAAAAAAAAOE/X89ue2LCaDc/s1600-h/P6090021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o85oSE2sI/AAAAAAAAAOE/X89ue2LCaDc/s200/P6090021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150496084615027394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My highschool friend and I visited Corregidor last June 9.  It was a first visit for both of us.  I always wanted to visit Corregidor but was not able to because of lack of resources and time.  But now I'm glad that I was finally able to visit. It was a great experience going to such a historical place.  It's sad to think of the tragedy that befell such a scenic island and the thousands of lives lost, Filipino, American&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o5zISE2nI/AAAAAAAAANc/S1qGoq-QwN4/s1600-h/P6090010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o5zISE2nI/AAAAAAAAANc/S1qGoq-QwN4/s200/P6090010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150492674410994290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and Japanese.  While touring the island, you can see the relics of the past, the once beautiful American base that was one of the last bastions of the Allies to fall during the Japanese invasion in 1941.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o3p4SE2jI/AAAAAAAAAM8/0NWq1dNK4oA/s1600-h/P6090063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o3p4SE2jI/AAAAAAAAAM8/0NWq1dNK4oA/s200/P6090063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150490316473948722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took a packaged tour so when we docked at Corregidor port, there were tour buses waiting for us.  The buses were a surprise because the sides were open and the armrest was the only thing that kept me in my seat when the driver took the curves a little too fast.  I think the buses look like the cable cars in San Francisco that I see on tv. The buses even had bells instead of horns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o4j4SE2lI/AAAAAAAAANM/xnEVDoQVwzE/s1600-h/P6090065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o4j4SE2lI/AAAAAAAAANM/xnEVDoQVwzE/s200/P6090065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150491312906361426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o6ioSE2oI/AAAAAAAAANk/U5Ofu47bnog/s1600-h/P6090092.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o6ioSE2oI/AAAAAAAAANk/U5Ofu47bnog/s200/P6090092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150493490454780546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We saw the bombed structures, the artillery relics, the memorial parks, the museum and other tourist spots around the island.  We also joined the light and sound show in the Malinta Tunnel.  The show was not very long and the effects were not really that great but listening to the reconstruction of the last days of Filipino and American soldiers, the nurses, doctors and those others who took refuge in the tunnel during the invasion of the Japanese forces was very affecting.  It was history brought alive, and not histor&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o8O4SE2rI/AAAAAAAAAN8/5AuzQeRQfeA/s1600-h/P6090069.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o8O4SE2rI/AAAAAAAAAN8/5AuzQeRQfeA/s200/P6090069.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150495350175619762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;y as just factual statement of facts in history&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o7y4SE2qI/AAAAAAAAAN0/pE-5jhrxKAo/s1600-h/P6090045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o7y4SE2qI/AAAAAAAAAN0/pE-5jhrxKAo/s200/P6090045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150494869139282594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; books.  Hearing the voices of President Quezon, Gen. Douglas McArthur, the Filipino soldier who declared the surrender of Corregidor to the Japanese soldiers, etc.,  moved me deeply.  It felt funny hearing Pres. Quezon's voice.  It's not what I expected him to sound like. I'm not sure how I thought he would sound like but his voice surprised me.  Maybe at the back of my mind he'd had have deep, midnight voice, like a deejay maybe, but I can no longer describe his voice since more than six months have passed since my visit to Corregidor.  What I can only remember now, was my surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o7EISE2pI/AAAAAAAAANs/Roahfluy82M/s1600-h/P6090107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o7EISE2pI/AAAAAAAAANs/Roahfluy82M/s200/P6090107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150494065980398226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o9a4SE2tI/AAAAAAAAAOM/xFN9ond1meE/s1600-h/P6090112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o9a4SE2tI/AAAAAAAAAOM/xFN9ond1meE/s200/P6090112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150496655845677778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were moments during the diorama that I was moved to tears.  Just hearing the sound of the bombs dropping, the sounds that the sick and injured made, the conversations between the nurses and soldiers as they tried to snatch a little bit of happiness during suc&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o9_YSE2uI/AAAAAAAAAOU/dtzlMpFjnN8/s1600-h/P6090096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o9_YSE2uI/AAAAAAAAAOU/dtzlMpFjnN8/s200/P6090096.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150497282910903010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;h a horrendous nightmare, these are the things that history books don't mention.  These things make you realize that these were real people with real&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o--oSE2vI/AAAAAAAAAOc/Xnh112p1AIk/s1600-h/P6090093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o--oSE2vI/AAAAAAAAAOc/Xnh112p1AIk/s200/P6090093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150498369537628914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; emotions, fears and hopes, and not just statistics indicated as casualties of war.  These are the things that I, who has not experienced a war, forget or do not completely comprehend.   It was ironic that the  tunnel which became the tomb of Filipino and American soldiers during the Japanese invasion, became the tomb also of the Japanese soldiers during the retaking of the island by the Americans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, after such a bloody history, Corregidor has been developed as a tourist spot that serves as a reminder of the atrocities of war, a memorial for the brave soldiers, Filipino, American and Japanese, who were victims of some men's hunger for power and world domination.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o_g4SE2wI/AAAAAAAAAOk/J8nRXk1dKY4/s1600-h/P6090136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o_g4SE2wI/AAAAAAAAAOk/J8nRXk1dKY4/s200/P6090136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150498957948148482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-4297124970423920627?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zO_k8lnyi1eOezEE87BgpECR3ds/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zO_k8lnyi1eOezEE87BgpECR3ds/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/0bPoVIy7kCA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/4297124970423920627/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=4297124970423920627&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/4297124970423920627?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/4297124970423920627?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/0bPoVIy7kCA/historic-corregidor.html" title="Historic Corregidor" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/R3o85oSE2sI/AAAAAAAAAOE/X89ue2LCaDc/s72-c/P6090021.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2007/12/historic-corregidor.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEECR385eip7ImA9WB9bE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-4216552715609438776</id><published>2007-12-22T18:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T19:24:26.122+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2007-12-22T19:24:26.122+08:00</app:edited><title>Year End Report</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What a year it was! I got rejected twice and a long time dream died, but it was still a good year.  My last post was about my application to the Japanese Scholarship. Suffice it is to say, that was my first rejection.  But the good news is that my friend got accepted. I was very happy for her however, I was sad for myself, and maybe a little envious of her good fortune.  But life goes on and I was able to bounce back quickly because I had an alternative.  I was going to apply for a scholarship to Germany.  I had a hard time finishing my application to Germany because I was tired already.  I was tired of chasing that dream but something pushed me on.  I thought what if I did not apply, then I may never know if I could have made it or not.  But I swore that it was going to be the last one.  If I didn't get accepted, then no more applications.  I'm not up to asking for another letter of recommendation from my college professor, I've been asking for letters of recommendation since 2001 and still no master's degree to show for. And no way was I going to go to HR and ask for another endorsement from the Chairman and have my plans talked about in the office, especially when they don't push through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I finally had my papers in order before the October 15 deadline. In all my applications, this was the one I really worked hard on and the one where I really poured my heart and soul.  And this was also the one where I never asked God for a sign.  When I finally mailed my application, I strove not to think about it.  I was quite successful because things were so hectic at work. We were preparing for an international conference.  Then during the weekends, I had my German and yoga classes.  It was also during this time that God was quiet. No signs, no verses, and no texts.  So I thought, maybe it would be different from the previous ones, or maybe not. I was really trying to think positive because I felt that this could be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Then the fateful day arrived.  It was the beginning of December and I have been checking my email everyday for any news from the school but so far nothing.  It is my habit to attend mass on Wednesdays and Fridays, aside from the obligatory Sunday mass.  While I was kneeling during the consecration, a thought popped into my mind, how was I going to make it in graduate school if I cannot even study well for my german language exam that was going to take place on the 8th and 15th of December. But I dismissed the thought quickly. Of course, I can make it work. I have to.  So after the mass I went home with no idea that it was the day that something was going to die.  I got home and my grandmother let me in.  I saw a small stack of letters waiting, one was for me and the rest were for my mother.  The envelope was very plain and very thin.  When I saw the word "Luftpost" I knew that this was the answer.  But the fact that the envelope was so thin, I knew that the answer was not the one that I wanted. Still, I made myself open it and read the contents of the letter. I even skipped the first part and went straight to the second paragraph that said I did not make it.  What was more, it said that even if I financed myself, due to my ranking, I would still not be able get in.  Yeah right, like I had enough money to finance a study in Europe.  After I read it, I hurried upstairs because I did not want my grandmother to ask why I was crying.  I really cried like my heart was breaking, writing this now, I still feel a little tearful.  Anyway, when I was able to calm myself, I texted my bestfriend and told her about the news.  She comforted me saying that maybe it was not God's will and that it was just my will all along.  But what realyl struck me was when she said that, in truth, I was not really an industrious student. She echoed my earlier sentiment.  Don't get me wrong, I'm a good student, I never had failing marks in my report cards and class cards, and I was even a sporadic dean's lister in college. But studying is really not my forte, as evidenced by four incomplete subjects when I tried taking up a master's degree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the death of that dream, I am now at loose ends.  Before, my life was somewhat shaped by my desire to get a scholarship abroad, hence,  my career path, working in government.  It is easier to get a scholarship if you work for the government than when you work for a private company, but apparently, it's not true for me. Hehehe. Anyway, now I can think about applying outside government service. I still don't know what I will do.  I'm still trying to seek God's will in my life.  Maybe now I can see His will more clearly without the blinders of my desire to study abroad.  I don't know if I should still pursue a master's degree here or what degree I should pursue because if I continue to stay at my current job, I need to get a graduate degree if I ever hope to get promoted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this coming year will start me in the right path through God's leading.   Maybe I'll finally be able to travel abroad and start my life's adventure.  Maybe I can even now contemplate marrying, even without prospects for now. Hehehe. That's what life is all about, always hoping that tomorrow will be better than today, and that after every death, there is resurrection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/8856258-4216552715609438776?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/nodTDH_NR9o/year-end-report.html" title="Year End Report" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2007/12/year-end-report.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8DQHg6eyp7ImA9WxRbGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-2377735486351380644</id><published>2007-03-18T14:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T16:41:11.613+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-12-11T16:41:11.613+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Boracay scenes" /><title>Boracay Pics</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3waagr_3I/AAAAAAAAAJo/6OqI5IJnOcg/s1600-h/P1190180.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3waagr_3I/AAAAAAAAAJo/6OqI5IJnOcg/s320/P1190180.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043451494308511602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3wa6gr_4I/AAAAAAAAAJw/SBz39qaPte8/s1600-h/P1260188.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3wa6gr_4I/AAAAAAAAAJw/SBz39qaPte8/s320/P1260188.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043451502898446210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3v-6gr_yI/AAAAAAAAAJA/bB-rhqZVVbY/s1600-h/P1180124.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3v-6gr_yI/AAAAAAAAAJA/bB-rhqZVVbY/s320/P1180124.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043451021862108962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3v_Kgr_zI/AAAAAAAAAJI/U8O2q4UY9-4/s1600-h/P1190149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3v_Kgr_zI/AAAAAAAAAJI/U8O2q4UY9-4/s320/P1190149.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043451026157076274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3v_agr_0I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/iefNRUy7Pec/s1600-h/P1190157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3v_agr_0I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/iefNRUy7Pec/s320/P1190157.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043451030452043586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3v_qgr_1I/AAAAAAAAAJY/fhX6Tmuu_js/s1600-h/P1190159.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3v_qgr_1I/AAAAAAAAAJY/fhX6Tmuu_js/s320/P1190159.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043451034747010898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3v_6gr_2I/AAAAAAAAAJg/c_lWJuJbZDI/s1600-h/P1190160.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3v_6gr_2I/AAAAAAAAAJg/c_lWJuJbZDI/s320/P1190160.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043451039041978210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3vAqgr_tI/AAAAAAAAAIY/LT1IP_E9mXc/s1600-h/P1180144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3vAqgr_tI/AAAAAAAAAIY/LT1IP_E9mXc/s320/P1180144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043449952415252178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3vA6gr_uI/AAAAAAAAAIg/6Pn2-EsI3_c/s1600-h/P1180146.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3vA6gr_uI/AAAAAAAAAIg/6Pn2-EsI3_c/s320/P1180146.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043449956710219490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3vBKgr_vI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Zg8BJBsZLAA/s1600-h/P1190148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3vBKgr_vI/AAAAAAAAAIo/Zg8BJBsZLAA/s320/P1190148.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043449961005186802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3vBqgr_wI/AAAAAAAAAIw/4-jwf25U1Ys/s1600-h/P1190150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3vBqgr_wI/AAAAAAAAAIw/4-jwf25U1Ys/s320/P1190150.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043449969595121410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3vB6gr_xI/AAAAAAAAAI4/Q4-c4ApNtww/s1600-h/P1190151.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3vB6gr_xI/AAAAAAAAAI4/Q4-c4ApNtww/s320/P1190151.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043449973890088722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3uNKgr_pI/AAAAAAAAAH4/HjQZiWC22fo/s1600-h/P1170106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3uNKgr_pI/AAAAAAAAAH4/HjQZiWC22fo/s320/P1170106.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043449067651989138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3uNagr_qI/AAAAAAAAAIA/OqsZ_uQ8_yw/s1600-h/P1170110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3uNagr_qI/AAAAAAAAAIA/OqsZ_uQ8_yw/s320/P1170110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043449071946956450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3uN6gr_rI/AAAAAAAAAII/p-RUnm3hDFc/s1600-h/P1180135.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3uN6gr_rI/AAAAAAAAAII/p-RUnm3hDFc/s320/P1180135.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043449080536891058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3uOKgr_sI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/as68YAgnZ5A/s1600-h/P1180137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3uOKgr_sI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/as68YAgnZ5A/s320/P1180137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043449084831858370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3sKKgr_lI/AAAAAAAAAHY/RdGSYXKBtso/s1600-h/P1170041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3sKKgr_lI/AAAAAAAAAHY/RdGSYXKBtso/s320/P1170041.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043446817089125970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3sKqgr_mI/AAAAAAAAAHg/njMr7Y9NtYc/s1600-h/P1170073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3sKqgr_mI/AAAAAAAAAHg/njMr7Y9NtYc/s320/P1170073.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043446825679060578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3sK6gr_nI/AAAAAAAAAHo/AEsPksOdD38/s1600-h/P1170077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3sK6gr_nI/AAAAAAAAAHo/AEsPksOdD38/s320/P1170077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043446829974027890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3sLagr_oI/AAAAAAAAAHw/zZqVUlG9cOg/s1600-h/P1170082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3sLagr_oI/AAAAAAAAAHw/zZqVUlG9cOg/s320/P1170082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043446838563962498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rfzo1qgr_jI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nKpkYzL0HKg/s1600-h/P1160028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rfzo1qgr_jI/AAAAAAAAAHI/nKpkYzL0HKg/s320/P1160028.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043161691390213682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rfzo16gr_kI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Mr9PBmHMALY/s1600-h/P1160031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rfzo16gr_kI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Mr9PBmHMALY/s320/P1160031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043161695685180994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/RfzkYKgr_fI/AAAAAAAAAGo/nniE8gNJf-Q/s1600-h/P1160022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/RfzkYKgr_fI/AAAAAAAAAGo/nniE8gNJf-Q/s320/P1160022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043156786537561586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/RfzkYagr_gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/4x9FCFDQd_E/s1600-h/P1160023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/RfzkYagr_gI/AAAAAAAAAGw/4x9FCFDQd_E/s320/P1160023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043156790832528898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/RfzkYqgr_hI/AAAAAAAAAG4/jaaGw9VEMiw/s1600-h/P1160025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/RfzkYqgr_hI/AAAAAAAAAG4/jaaGw9VEMiw/s320/P1160025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043156795127496210" border="0" 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&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ScPK1K_lNOO3r-ScpaVs67PVPyA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ScPK1K_lNOO3r-ScpaVs67PVPyA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ScPK1K_lNOO3r-ScpaVs67PVPyA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ScPK1K_lNOO3r-ScpaVs67PVPyA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/8isf7W-9v3A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/2377735486351380644/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=2377735486351380644&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/2377735486351380644?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/2377735486351380644?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/8isf7W-9v3A/boracay-pics.html" title="Boracay Pics" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2I2z1rKSAbg/Rf3waagr_3I/AAAAAAAAAJo/6OqI5IJnOcg/s72-c/P1190180.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2007/03/boracay-pics.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8AR344eCp7ImA9WBFXEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-7606291616260288923</id><published>2007-03-18T13:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T13:47:26.030+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2007-03-18T13:47:26.030+08:00</app:edited><title>Faith Adventures</title><content type="html">&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoBodyText"&gt;This is a continuation of my search for a scholarship.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A lot has happened since August.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For one, I wasn’t able to find a scholarship to study at the University of Kassel.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So I was kind of down for sometime but like a ball I bounced back again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Come October a college friend called me up to ask for contact numbers of our college professors.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She was going to apply for a scholarship in Japan.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;To make the long story short, she convinced (not very hard) me to apply also.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;First off, I was never keen on studying in Japan, second, I never considered taking up Public Administration, and third, if possible, I don’t want a return of service clause.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;However, I decided, “why not”? Desperate times called for desperate measures.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had only a little more than two weeks lead-time because it was already early in October when I decided and the deadline was October 25, 2006.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So I hurriedly complied with the requirements.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was a miracle that I was able to complete them in a record time considering how the bosses, whose signatures I needed to secure, were always out of the office for meetings.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had a training on October 25 and the venue was near the office where I had to submit the requirements.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sometimes, even if everything falls into place during preparation time, it still does not guarantee the outcome you want.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Anyway, I’m getting ahead of my self.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;In short, I was able to beat the deadline and just had to wait for feedback.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Two days after I submitted, I got a call from JICE, the Japanese contractor for the scholarship.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They were asking me to reconsider my first and second choices of universities because there were a lot of applicants for those schools while there were few applicants for the other equally good schools.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I asked for the weekend to think and look over the other universities.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So on Monday morning, I called them up and changed my second choice of university from Meiji to Keio while maintaining my first choice ICU.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A couple of days later they called up to confirm that my first choice was Keio.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I laughed and gave in gracefully.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In fairness, after I called them on Monday, I was already thinking that I liked Keio but was just too chicken to call back again.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some things seemed to affirm that Keio was indeed a better choice for me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One, Keio was top 129 among 500 universities worldwide while I could not find ICU in the list. Second, after I read their brochure again and looked over their courses carefully, I saw that there were courses on Germany and German as a second language.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Since I’m studying the German language now, it seemed that I would still get to pursue my interest in Germany even if I’m in Japan.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;These just seemed to be good omens. (Can omens be really good? There just seems to be something dark about the word.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I guess because of its association to the movie.)&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;December came and I received a text (December 11) from my friend that she passed the first screening and was scheduled for an interview the following day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was nervous because I wasn’t called yet.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The call finally came late in the afternoon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My interview was scheduled January 9.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;December was a bad month for me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For three weekends in a row I was able to attend Sunday masses because of bad colds, asthma, and to top it off, I managed to badly sprain my ankle two days before Christmas.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;These took my mind off my coming interview.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;January 9 rolled in and I went to NEDA for the interview.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I botched it up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was stumped when they asked me about my work.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I really had a hard time trying to explain the multiple tasks I do at the office that kind of defies description.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Fortunately, the interview was more of a formality thing and everybody passed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The next step was the IELTS and math exams.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was able to review a little bit for both IELTS and math.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was quite confident about my English but not so with my math.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Exam day came (January 20).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I felt that the IELTS was relatively easy but I floundered badly with the math.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;IT WAS NOT BASIC MATH for me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Japanese proctor told us that it was junior high school math for the Japanese.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The tests were done on a Saturday but the speaking component of my English test was still on Monday so I had the weekend to stew over the speaking exam.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My friend had her speaking exam on the same day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After the exams, I decided to drop by Megamall because I had to buy a swimsuit for my four-day vacation in Boracay.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;While in Mega, I decided to attend the anticipated mass.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had goose bumps when the priest told the homily.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He was emphasizing on how God had a great plan for all of us and how we should surrender to His will.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was thinking, “Does this mean I’m not going to get the Japanese scholarship?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That God has another plan for me?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was little teary eyed after that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Even though you know that God’s plan is greater than our plans, it’s still hard to wait for his plan and it’s still disappointing if your plans fall through.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;We were told that results would be available two weeks after.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;JICE would call us either on a Friday or Saturday to inform us if passed or not.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So off I went to Boracay, with the two-piece swimsuit I managed to find in Megamall after the mass, to enjoy myself.  The two-week wait did not seem so long.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;i style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;…to be continued&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-7606291616260288923?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EYHFAjvpCgJOJHVF63NVCheEHK0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EYHFAjvpCgJOJHVF63NVCheEHK0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EYHFAjvpCgJOJHVF63NVCheEHK0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EYHFAjvpCgJOJHVF63NVCheEHK0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/bEfEbF1GxJM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/7606291616260288923/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=7606291616260288923&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/7606291616260288923?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/7606291616260288923?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/bEfEbF1GxJM/faith-adventures.html" title="Faith Adventures" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2007/03/faith-adventures.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IFQ3k5eCp7ImA9WBNaFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-115969551270908867</id><published>2006-10-01T16:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T17:38:32.720+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-10-01T17:38:32.720+08:00</app:edited><title>A couple of my favorite trees</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/1600/flowering%20narra.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/320/flowering%20narra.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday when I will have my dream tree garden, the narrah tree will have the place of honor.  Not only is it our national tree, it's also my favorite tree.  I just love how the small yellow flowers carpet the earth every summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/1600/acacia%20tree.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/320/acacia%20tree.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another tree that I'd love to have in my garden is the acacia tree.  It brings back memories of my elementary and high school days.  We used to have a couple of big acacia trees in our school near the gym.  I even remember quarreling with a classmate underneath it's canopy.  We called each other names, she called me ngongo and I called her oink oink. Hahaha.  I love the light pink and white flowers of the acacia tree, specially as it drifts where the wind takes it, like tiny round feathers hovering in the air.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-115969551270908867?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MJw_YPdja4DiOHwzEa61QD8V6HA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MJw_YPdja4DiOHwzEa61QD8V6HA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MJw_YPdja4DiOHwzEa61QD8V6HA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MJw_YPdja4DiOHwzEa61QD8V6HA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/HHQM4QaQH28" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/115969551270908867/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=115969551270908867&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115969551270908867?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115969551270908867?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/HHQM4QaQH28/couple-of-my-favorite-trees.html" title="A couple of my favorite trees" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/10/couple-of-my-favorite-trees.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEMSHg9eyp7ImA9WBNbF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-115875268965178347</id><published>2006-09-20T19:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T19:44:49.663+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-09-20T19:44:49.663+08:00</app:edited><title>Answers to a Prayer</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;a quote sent by a friend last september 9&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is wonderful to get answers t o prayers...&lt;br /&gt;but it is even more wonderful to let God mold you&lt;br /&gt;and make you  into an answer to somebody's prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;waaaahhhh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a knock in the head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;then another one earlier today from my aunt, a nun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;there are things in life we question a lot. &lt;br /&gt;But do we realize that answers come when&lt;br /&gt;we stop asking...that's what we call faith...&lt;br /&gt;God is good all the time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-115875268965178347?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7waEH4OtUQJ2dV_K_hBonFn8Di0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7waEH4OtUQJ2dV_K_hBonFn8Di0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7waEH4OtUQJ2dV_K_hBonFn8Di0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7waEH4OtUQJ2dV_K_hBonFn8Di0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/kZticqwZoh4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/115875268965178347/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=115875268965178347&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115875268965178347?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115875268965178347?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/kZticqwZoh4/answers-to-prayer.html" title="Answers to a Prayer" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/09/answers-to-prayer.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4BRng5fip7ImA9WBNUFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-115762795761643716</id><published>2006-09-07T19:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-07T19:19:17.626+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-09-07T19:19:17.626+08:00</app:edited><title>A Prayer Reminder</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;A friend forwarded this prayer to me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;Lord when I lose hope because may plans have come to nothing,&lt;br /&gt;help me to remember that your love is always greater than my disappointments&lt;br /&gt;and your plans for my life is always better than my dreams. Amen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a very apt reminder :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-115762795761643716?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hpgmRnKXzCEN48JoRe7XE8hTo-g/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hpgmRnKXzCEN48JoRe7XE8hTo-g/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hpgmRnKXzCEN48JoRe7XE8hTo-g/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hpgmRnKXzCEN48JoRe7XE8hTo-g/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/xhvM02x7Wzc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/115762795761643716/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=115762795761643716&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115762795761643716?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115762795761643716?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/xhvM02x7Wzc/prayer-reminder.html" title="A Prayer Reminder" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/09/prayer-reminder.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EBSXc6fip7ImA9WBNVEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-115622565890831270</id><published>2006-08-22T13:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T13:47:38.916+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-08-22T13:47:38.916+08:00</app:edited><title>Dreams</title><content type="html">&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;I wrote this last August 16, just after midnight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s quite late already and I need to go to sleep because I have to wake up early tomorrow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t sleep in since I can’t afford to be late again but I have write this down before I forget.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today, or should I say yesterday since it’s already past midnight, was the Feast of the Assumption of Mother Mary into Heaven.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My friend and I attended the 12:05 o’clock mass at the nearby chapel to celebrate the Feast.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;During the consecration, while we were kneeling to pray, I kept thinking for God to give me a sign regarding my request.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ve been praying off and on for this thing for more than ten years now but for the past few months I have been bombarding Him with my pleas.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Even though I’ve told Him that I will abide by His wishes and follow His will, I can’t still seem to stop asking Him for it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Reading the Bible, especially in the Old Testaments, you can’t help but feel a little envious of the close relationship God had with his prophets.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He TALKED to them. Really talked plainly to them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m saying this because I’ve been trying to discern His will and I can’t seem to get a fix on it or I can’t seem to get a plain answer and I was afraid to ask for signs because I might not interpret it correctly and delude myself.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Before you ask where I am going with this, I asked God as I knelt there in the  chapel to talk to me like he did to the prophets.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I said (being a product of my generation), “Answer me through text.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That’s right. I wanted His answer to come through SMS or short message sending or through what we Filipinos have made into a phenomenon, texting.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wanted God to text me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was expecting after the mass to see a forwarded message from one of my friends that will sort of answer my question.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But alas when I looked at my phone, all I saw was the black screen broken by the thick gray line denoting the time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As the day progressed into night I forgot about it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I went on to watch TV and read a pocketbook.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I forgot about my phone specially since I’ve put it in silent mode. It was almost 11:00 o’clock before I got around to checking it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That’s when I got my answer.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A former officemate forwarded me a message.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It reads: Prayer works best when nothing else works at all.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“Men always ought to pray and not lose heart.” Lk 18:1”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have applied for a place at the Universtät Kassel to take up Master in Higher Education last June.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I received a communication from the department that I passed the initial screening but I still have to wait for the green light from the University.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Unless I receive the letter of admission I can’t start making arrangements to study there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Actually, even if I receive a letter of admission, which I have been on the look out for these past month, I would still not be able to make arrangements because I can’t afford to study in Germany.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t have a scholarship and I didn’t apply for any.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I checked out websites of a dozen organizations but I haven’t found any that’s suitable for me and at such short notice since classes would commence in October of this year.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So I’ve been really praying that if it’s not really for me then let Him help me let go of the dream.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I tried not to lose heart but with each day passing and no sign of the letter of admission and hope for a scholarship I was ready to let go and to start making new plans. But I still can’t let it go that’s why I asked Him for an answer earlier.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And as usual, He answered, text through text.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t say I’m surprised with His sense of humor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I always&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;knew He had one.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Anyway, I looked up Luke 18:1 and found out that this was the beginning of the parable wherein Jesus, to illustrate to His disciples about not being discouraged and to continue praying, He told them the story of the old woman and the corrupt judge.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The old woman wore out the corrupt judge with her constant plea for help.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If the corrupt judge could give in after a long time of incessant plea, what more our Father in heaven.&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t know what tomorrow will bring and in what form God will answer my prayer but I’ll take comfort in knowing that He does listen to my prayers.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The answer may not be what I expected or what I was asking for.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All I know is that it will be better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I need to sleep.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I just hope I won’t be late but if I can’t wake up early then I still have 3 more tardiness to go before exceeding the 9-tardiness limit.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;PS.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was not late the next day and later that week I received my letter of admission, twice, since I sent them my home and office address because I was afraid the postman won’t find our home address.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have not been able to receive my mobile plan bill since we moved because their messenger could not locate our house.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I'm still looking for a scholarship…:) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-115622565890831270?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/svihWnZhBllNYg2sIdpb0ztMvBo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/svihWnZhBllNYg2sIdpb0ztMvBo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/RDoCvLNl5zA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/115622565890831270/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=115622565890831270&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115622565890831270?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115622565890831270?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/RDoCvLNl5zA/dreams.html" title="Dreams" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/08/dreams.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cBQn45fip7ImA9WBNVEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-115622505301682905</id><published>2006-08-22T13:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T13:37:33.026+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-08-22T13:37:33.026+08:00</app:edited><title>Korky dog</title><content type="html">&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;Long overdue for posting also&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I was walking along an alley near our house on my way to the office when I encountered Korky the dog, my nicknamesake :)  (the same alley where I had a run in, literally, with a crazy woman.) He (I'm not sure but let's just assume Korky is a he) is an orange ball of a dog that looks like a lion, a chowchow breed I think.  On that morning, Korky was enjoying a few minutes of freedom in the alley while his master, a little boy, was being fetched by his tricycle service on his way to school.  Korky was sniffing and prancing in the alley while his mistress, the mother, was kissing her son goodbye.  While still far from them, I was admiring the orange dog because he looked so cute and furry.  When I neared them, I heard the lady call out, "Korky...Korky, come inside now."  I can't help but smile when I heard the name.  Either the lady was calling the dog or me because we were the only ones in the alley but since I didn't know her then she must have been calling the dog, the real Korky Dog :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got stuck with the Korky moniker when my friend Judsee took to calling me Korky Dog.  I don't know why she had to add the dog part.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She told me, I’m not sure but I think she called her dad, Father Duck. Hehehe.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Since then, our other officemates started calling me Korky.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Thank goodness the “dog” part was dropped. &lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Since that day, I’ve seen Korky twice more.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Such a cute dog, he has to be to live up to the name. Hehehe   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-115622505301682905?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kQ-i6MU7QoUXLOjHTgMabTA8Z2c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kQ-i6MU7QoUXLOjHTgMabTA8Z2c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/vlpSjibk1ks" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/115622505301682905/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=115622505301682905&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115622505301682905?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115622505301682905?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/vlpSjibk1ks/korky-dog.html" title="Korky dog" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/08/korky-dog.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UBSHY7fip7ImA9WBNWGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-115586525980368757</id><published>2006-08-18T09:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-18T09:40:59.806+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-08-18T09:40:59.806+08:00</app:edited><title>Tea Induced Insomnia</title><content type="html">This is long overdue.  I wrote this last month but never got around to posting it. So here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It’s 2:15 am and I can’t sleep courtesy of the ice tea and hot green tea I drank earlier in the evening. I met two officemates from my previous work for dinner. One of them was in the country for a few weeks and we haven’t seen each other since he went abroad. I used to have a crush on him because of his sense of humor and intelligence. We both had the same shallow and somewhat corny sense of humor. We sporadically kept in touch through email or chat since he left. Sometimes his name would just pop-out of my inbox after a long hiatus. After a few exchanges he would again vanish as quickly as he came, until the next round of exchanges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people get irritated with this kind of behavior but hey, I enjoy our exchanges while it’s going on. We might not have the deepest friendship and we never talk about anything earthshaking or even personal but I have plenty of other friends for those kinds of talks. There are different levels of friendship and just because it’s not as deep and as intense as the other friendships doesn’t mean it isn’t important. You also cherish it as you do the “deeper” friendships. Just because it’s the only thing that your friend can give doesn’t mean its not wholehearted. You have to accept both the friendship and the friend as they are with no expectation of something deeper whether in a platonic or romantic kind of way. Also, don’t compare what you both have with the friendship you share with others or what he/she has shared with others. Once you compare or your expectations are not met then you become dissatisfied and that puts a lot of strain to the friendship and eventually will lead to its demise. Don’t ask for what he/she is not capable of giving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-115586525980368757?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lC3I1mpBqJG5xLn3VkJL7cpx2Sc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lC3I1mpBqJG5xLn3VkJL7cpx2Sc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/RxU6HHtq1TI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/115586525980368757/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=115586525980368757&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115586525980368757?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/115586525980368757?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/RxU6HHtq1TI/tea-induced-insomnia.html" title="Tea Induced Insomnia" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/08/tea-induced-insomnia.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IDQ3s6eyp7ImA9WBJbGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-114897957250464066</id><published>2006-05-30T16:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T16:59:32.513+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-05-30T16:59:32.513+08:00</app:edited><title>Ilocos Norte</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/1600/lighthouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/320/lighthouse.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/1600/windmills2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/320/windmills2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/1600/rushing%20to%20shore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/320/rushing%20to%20shore.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/1600/paoay%20church.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/320/paoay%20church.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/1600/pagudpud.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1988/621/320/pagudpud.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-114897957250464066?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AyVS0E63bXIDkjNYtBW1ysa-l78/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AyVS0E63bXIDkjNYtBW1ysa-l78/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/03YbUid9asw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/114897957250464066/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=114897957250464066&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114897957250464066?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114897957250464066?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/03YbUid9asw/ilocos-norte.html" title="Ilocos Norte" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/05/ilocos-norte.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcDQ3czeyp7ImA9WBJbGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-114888207296419768</id><published>2006-05-29T13:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T13:54:32.983+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-05-29T13:54:32.983+08:00</app:edited><title>Grandmother Blues</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The evening started well enough. My grandmother, aka Mamala, and I arrived home from the church and came upon my mother, recently arrived from her weekend with friends, sorting our dirty clothes to bring to the nearby laundry house.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were the usual greetings and conversation then suddenly without warning Mom and Mamala were snapping and sniping at each other.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;From what I can hear they were arguing about, of all things, the lights in the altar that quickly escalated to a shouting match about the electricity bill then Mamala was taking potshots at my youngest brother, who was out of the house that time, how he was the one wasting the electricity with his late night television and stuff. Mama has it in for my youngest brother, but that’s another story.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Anyway, Mama climbed upstairs and suddenly became a little bit hysterical. She was crying and going on about how Mom was treating her, after all her (Mamala’s) sacrifice for her family, in short, her usual angst-laden spiel against Mom in particular and the world in general. I went down to get her a glass of water. Mom was downstairs muttering to herself.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After giving Mama her glass of water I brought down the dirty clothes that Mom was sorting when we arrived.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She went out as Mama was coming down the stairs ready for another round of confrontation.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Mom hurriedly beat a retreat to avoid another shouting match.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;However, Mama was on the roll. She kept going on and on about her usual monologue on Mom’s shortcomings and how she (Mama) was being treated…to enumerate everything would take me the whole night to write.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I heard her call my uncle in the Middle East with her cellular phone and she was crying and complaining.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But from what I can hear from her side of the conversation, the line must have been choppy because she was calling out again and again my uncle’s name.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I turned on the TV to tune her out but she came downstairs. She was shouting to my cousin, her acolyte, to bring down her bags because she was packing her things.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She was still ranting and raving about everything and nothing. I was not feeling up to the task of listening or playing referee, for the nth time, once my mom came back from the laundry house.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So I quickly went upstairs and changed into my Capri pants with the intent of escaping the house. My grandmother followed me upstairs, still not yet finished with her piece and was getting more emotional. My mother arrived and tried to dissuade me from going out on account of how it was already dark outside (we had just moved to the neighborhood) but I was not to be dissuaded.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I got my shoulder bag ready to go out but before I could leave I heard my grandmother clattering down the stairs. On hearing this, my mother quickly went outside and closed the door. I hurried after her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was only when I got outside that I realized I had no money and no way was I going back to the house where Mama was still shouting because now she was being deprived of her prey (Mom) and I her sounding board was also escaping.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My mother was already outside the gate when I caught up with her. Since she had brought money, we decided to go the bookstore one ride away from the house.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We left my poor cousin to soothe the ire of the tigress.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In the bookstore we browsed through the books but we did not buy anything since it was not a secondhand bookstore and the books were very expensive.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My smart aleck brother, the one I usually quote on this blog who lives in Cebu with my paternal grandmother, sent me a message asking to borrow something. I told him not to call home since mom and I escaped from the skirmish in the home front.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And these are what he had to say (yes, these are more quotes from him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Maybe I should change the name from &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;looking for directions”&lt;/i&gt; to &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;my brother’s wisecracks”&lt;/i&gt; or something to that effect)&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;These are direct quotes, text icons, wrong grammar, and everything.    &lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102); font-style: italic; text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;First text:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;wats new.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;hihi 0ld f0lks r alwyz lyk dat.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;iv ex 8 a l0t of tym.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;at 1&lt;sup&gt;st &lt;/sup&gt;makalagot&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(makes you mad) . per0 (but) after i heard a preach I came 2 realize dey nid a few dash 0f luv. Ü&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Next text:  btw  beware 0f m0m. she’s next. haha. tita she&lt;/span&gt; (our paternal aunt) &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;has a sympt0ms of bec0min her m0m.  shh. age gets in d way.&lt;/span&gt; (referring to our paternal grandmother)(she and tita are also like cats and dogs)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;Another one: &lt;/span&gt;(he had a nice insight) &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;a smal d0se 0f luv n undrstandn. mamala nids 8.c0z mama fils lyk a sec0nd clas citizen. haha ni puyo xa lugar n way ganhan. tv r an kast0rya&lt;/span&gt; (she lives in a house were she’s not quite liked. she only has the tv to talk to) (a somewhat brutal assessment with more than a grain of truth.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt; bro hits the nail in the head.)&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;And another:  d0nt w0ri u wil hav ur tym. next aftr m0m. Ü re 85% of 0ld f0lks dependin w/s0me0ne 0r n0 bank acc0unts hav d same personality lyk r lolas.&lt;/span&gt; (I haven’t the vaguest idea where he got his statistics)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I replied to brother with the realization that I dreaded growing old because I didn’t want to turn out like my grandmothers. I want to be a rich, independent old lady.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want to be an old lady who does not have to depend on her children or if I never marry, then on my relatives.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want to be an old woman who is easy to live with, lovable, and gracious. I know being rich will not guarantee that I will be any of these things but at least if I can’t stand to live with any of them, then I have the means to set up my own household. Both my grandmothers are as different as night and day temperamentally but what they have in common is that it is very difficult to live with either one. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;When we went home after mom had finished her carrot-apple shake from the supermarket beside the bookstore, Mama was already upstairs having calmed down and was resting.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her earthly goods (seven bags of different sizes and shapes) were arranged beside the stairs all ready for transfer (temporarily, until she will realize again that our house is still the best place for her given her limited choice) to her son’s house in another town.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Hayy...until the next skirmish&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-114888207296419768?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1G_B56YxVeemRs7Rp1UYSGj_4Qw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1G_B56YxVeemRs7Rp1UYSGj_4Qw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1G_B56YxVeemRs7Rp1UYSGj_4Qw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1G_B56YxVeemRs7Rp1UYSGj_4Qw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/_sQVnTaLcAs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/114888207296419768/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=114888207296419768&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114888207296419768?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114888207296419768?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/_sQVnTaLcAs/grandmother-blues.html" title="Grandmother Blues" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/05/grandmother-blues.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cHRXs4fip7ImA9WBJbGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-114888103452995193</id><published>2006-05-29T13:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T13:37:14.536+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-05-29T13:37:14.536+08:00</app:edited><title>Jeepney Incident</title><content type="html">In a jam-packed jeepney I heard the  child seated on her mother's lap beside me ask her mother, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;"Mommy, ba't di mo na ako kinukutuhan?"&lt;/span&gt;.  Waaahhh my hair!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-114888103452995193?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nrq0yk972xp7EbNlOga5zcz9utU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nrq0yk972xp7EbNlOga5zcz9utU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nrq0yk972xp7EbNlOga5zcz9utU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nrq0yk972xp7EbNlOga5zcz9utU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/SiQwZYtG2tU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/114888103452995193/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=114888103452995193&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114888103452995193?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114888103452995193?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/SiQwZYtG2tU/jeepney-incident.html" title="Jeepney Incident" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/05/jeepney-incident.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QASHg9eCp7ImA9WBJVF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-114670534964994508</id><published>2006-05-04T09:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-04T09:15:49.660+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-05-04T09:15:49.660+08:00</app:edited><title>Text Conversation</title><content type="html">Bro: how's ur love lyf?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Non-existent as usual. And urs?&lt;br /&gt;Bro: flavor of the month. Ü&lt;br /&gt;Me: U wish bro. U wish.&lt;br /&gt;Bro: no u wish. Ü&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-114670534964994508?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pf6ZEW3NlK1wZUR8C4wBw4dCLrc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pf6ZEW3NlK1wZUR8C4wBw4dCLrc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pf6ZEW3NlK1wZUR8C4wBw4dCLrc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pf6ZEW3NlK1wZUR8C4wBw4dCLrc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/URFYuOWnKrA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/114670534964994508/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=114670534964994508&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114670534964994508?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114670534964994508?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/URFYuOWnKrA/text-conversation.html" title="Text Conversation" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/05/text-conversation.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IBQHY4fip7ImA9WBJXEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-114422555182185724</id><published>2006-04-05T16:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T16:25:51.836+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-04-05T16:25:51.836+08:00</app:edited><title>My Brother Strikes Again</title><content type="html">My very quotable brother struck again.  I was in Vigan last week for the group assessment of our division and because of the Globe unlimitxt promo, I sent my brother some forwarded messages that I received during the day.  It was already one in the morning when he responded. Since I was already sleepy, I told him good night and to give mom a kiss for me.  They were sleeping over our new house-to-be.  He replied with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;8s better to giv her ur salary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-114422555182185724?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ereKpZkJU4wwLwUjkMhBveU-Nz0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ereKpZkJU4wwLwUjkMhBveU-Nz0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ereKpZkJU4wwLwUjkMhBveU-Nz0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ereKpZkJU4wwLwUjkMhBveU-Nz0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/Si6odl1H8uw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/114422555182185724/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=114422555182185724&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114422555182185724?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114422555182185724?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/Si6odl1H8uw/my-brother-strikes-again.html" title="My Brother Strikes Again" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/04/my-brother-strikes-again.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUcHSXg-eyp7ImA9WBJSFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8856258.post-114152703864316564</id><published>2006-03-05T10:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-05T10:50:38.653+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2006-03-05T10:50:38.653+08:00</app:edited><title>Their Love for Each Other was Gigantic</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I came across this poem while I was reading the book, The German Greens: A Social and Political Profile by Werner HÜlsberg for my book report (having intellectual pretensions is such a hardwork). The poem is written by Udo Lindenberg.  I don't know if it's already the whole poem or if it is just an excerpt but I found it striking.  When I have time this summer I'll try to search the web for the poem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;They met on the street&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;just stood and looked at each other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;'where can we go for a chat?', she said&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;and he said, 'don't know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;but let's walk along together'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;they had sought each other for so long&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;and now at last they'd met&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;and later in the bar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;although there was only coffee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;they were as if intoxicated&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;Yes, their love for each other was gigantic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;and yet there was something wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;'if only you were a little bit different,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ffff00;"&gt;and not exactly what you are!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8856258-114152703864316564?l=bluedirection.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Enz9LHGuq0adn5oifUn1dGKXlGk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Enz9LHGuq0adn5oifUn1dGKXlGk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Enz9LHGuq0adn5oifUn1dGKXlGk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Enz9LHGuq0adn5oifUn1dGKXlGk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~4/IUfBJFl9CtI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/feeds/114152703864316564/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8856258&amp;postID=114152703864316564&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114152703864316564?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8856258/posts/default/114152703864316564?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/LookingForDirection/~3/IUfBJFl9CtI/their-love-for-each-other-was-gigantic.html" title="Their Love for Each Other was Gigantic" /><author><name>bluerain</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04928469107143972744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://bluedirection.blogspot.com/2006/03/their-love-for-each-other-was-gigantic.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

