<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447</id><updated>2026-06-16T11:08:42.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>metaphors of mimay</title><subtitle type='html'>If understanding starts from knowledge, and knowledge is way to wisdom, then understanding is the beginning of wisdom.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>48</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-5441854421584564991</id><published>2026-06-16T10:40:20.758-07:00</published><updated>2026-06-16T10:51:29.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Journey (by Lea Salonga,1993)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Half the world is sleeping&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Half the world&#39;s awake&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Half can hear their hearts beat&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Half just hear them break&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #fcff01;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I am but a traveler, in most every way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ask me what you want to know&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white; font-size: medium;&quot;&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: white;&quot;&gt;hat a journey it has been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #fcff01;&quot;&gt;And the end is not in sight&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #fcff01;&quot;&gt;But the stars are out tonight&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;&lt;b style=&quot;background-color: #fcff01;&quot;&gt;And they&#39;re bound to guide my way&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;When they&#39;re shining on my life&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;I can see a better day&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;I won&#39;t let the darkness in&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;What a journey it has been&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;I have been to sorrow&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;I have been to bliss&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #fcff01; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Where I&#39;ll be tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #fcff01; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;I can only guess&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Through the darkest dessert&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Through the deepest snow&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #fcff01; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Forward, always forward, I go&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;i&gt;..Forward, always forward&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #fcff01; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Onward, always up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #fcff01; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Catching every drop of hope&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;In my empty cup&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/5441854421584564991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/5441854421584564991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2026/06/the-journey-by-lea-salonga1993.html' title='The Journey (by Lea Salonga,1993)'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-2321585048640619606</id><published>2013-06-21T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2013-06-21T13:10:04.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Blog</title><content type='html'>I&#39;ve been contemplating about my blog lately. At one time I almost want to delete it, but I notice that I still have some followers reading over my old blogs, even reaching as far as europe and africa.&amp;nbsp; So I thought that maybe somehow, there&#39;s one among them that I&#39;ve touched or inspired, one way or the other.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I remember&amp;nbsp; the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, when Abraham ask God&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;that if there are 10 righteous people living there, will he be destroying it.. and he said, &quot;I will not destroy it for 10&#39;s sake&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And so I&#39;ve realized, if there is one regular follower whom I&#39;m inspiring with my blog, then I will save it and keep going when I can.&amp;nbsp; My only hurdle is how I&#39;ll keep up&amp;nbsp;writing&amp;nbsp;here&amp;nbsp;with my very occupied life now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;I remember someone invited me to blog about beauty and make-up, but I decline because there&#39;s already an overflowing of beauty blogs everywhere.&amp;nbsp; Although I believe I can share a lot being also an artist myself. But I believe that there are more important things in life than beauty and make-up.&amp;nbsp; And so, I&#39;ve opted to stick around here.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the coming days, weeks, or months, I&#39;m thinking of sharing more about VALUES. I want my readers to&amp;nbsp;categorized my blogspot as&amp;nbsp;Educational or Inspirational.&amp;nbsp;Because it seems that the more important things in life are being missed out these days...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
...Specially, if you are raising a little child who looks at you everyday with questions in his eyes, &lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; and all you want to let him know and learn&amp;nbsp;are just the good things in life...</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2321585048640619606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2321585048640619606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2013/06/ive-been-contemplating-about-my-blog.html' title='My Blog'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-5593953706257878127</id><published>2013-06-14T10:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2013-06-14T10:17:57.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-EfZJMqRFCIHAwNWT_0KJJOkrkxBxIYV5sylzmvwrxetj4jkwgR61z2Y2e4EKXWjUc-wdGhHZlPJWfm-AeH2D_06UtjAfEh-6ezTCNlXJi-eGzd_PwegjV7wW3aWeNd0vBSXOS-NKUQ/s1600/1597_657616534253085_2005814474_n.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; cya=&quot;true&quot; height=&quot;332&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-EfZJMqRFCIHAwNWT_0KJJOkrkxBxIYV5sylzmvwrxetj4jkwgR61z2Y2e4EKXWjUc-wdGhHZlPJWfm-AeH2D_06UtjAfEh-6ezTCNlXJi-eGzd_PwegjV7wW3aWeNd0vBSXOS-NKUQ/s400/1597_657616534253085_2005814474_n.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/5593953706257878127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/5593953706257878127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2013/06/blog-post.html' title='Daddy'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-EfZJMqRFCIHAwNWT_0KJJOkrkxBxIYV5sylzmvwrxetj4jkwgR61z2Y2e4EKXWjUc-wdGhHZlPJWfm-AeH2D_06UtjAfEh-6ezTCNlXJi-eGzd_PwegjV7wW3aWeNd0vBSXOS-NKUQ/s72-c/1597_657616534253085_2005814474_n.jpg" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-4984823214949614621</id><published>2011-09-14T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T10:46:30.215-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.youtube.com/embed/dKgktNz6ICs?feature=player_embedded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/4984823214949614621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/4984823214949614621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/09/blessings.html' title='Blessings'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-6575766455631620867</id><published>2011-06-28T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T14:49:19.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One little miracle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Life is really made up of amazing little miracles.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;And I&#39;m one of the lucky ones to experience this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;From now on, I will keep on believing.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Because it&#39;s through believing that miracles happen...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8DdWeR6l2Ddq1pmSszer7s2T1BbZI5GzXPR8SE6HwNxD4uximQRrb12xoAIY65ZH5KSR6vxtLdmY9BJzo4VDN8OXg8mJ4hBZY0vsQU-FOFlmU16UBjRL8ebOIcahExjzGUv8WBHflrM/s1600/5305158821_e4c4b559ef_z.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; i$=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8DdWeR6l2Ddq1pmSszer7s2T1BbZI5GzXPR8SE6HwNxD4uximQRrb12xoAIY65ZH5KSR6vxtLdmY9BJzo4VDN8OXg8mJ4hBZY0vsQU-FOFlmU16UBjRL8ebOIcahExjzGUv8WBHflrM/s400/5305158821_e4c4b559ef_z.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/6575766455631620867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/6575766455631620867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/06/one-little-miracle.html' title='One little miracle'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8DdWeR6l2Ddq1pmSszer7s2T1BbZI5GzXPR8SE6HwNxD4uximQRrb12xoAIY65ZH5KSR6vxtLdmY9BJzo4VDN8OXg8mJ4hBZY0vsQU-FOFlmU16UBjRL8ebOIcahExjzGUv8WBHflrM/s72-c/5305158821_e4c4b559ef_z.jpg" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-6675076216489221372</id><published>2011-06-19T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T10:00:14.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Notes from the Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Though the image has been tainted for a night.&amp;nbsp; The real heart would always prevail.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMBS2hrSyme-QC6TnBmIG5XpFj7_eS3tEYM5elbDe6QhMLgPVSI2Qmrrhy7X6OlI9SheFPuH8lAtUDS9jDG7fFwddRLUZ-PiHWiAogrXqrV7QMcVgtW4s4KZoRUnleumwV4U1JRdj0Uw/s1600/P17-06-11_12-47.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMBS2hrSyme-QC6TnBmIG5XpFj7_eS3tEYM5elbDe6QhMLgPVSI2Qmrrhy7X6OlI9SheFPuH8lAtUDS9jDG7fFwddRLUZ-PiHWiAogrXqrV7QMcVgtW4s4KZoRUnleumwV4U1JRdj0Uw/s320/P17-06-11_12-47.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Good is bigger than life here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Happy Father&#39;s day! - &lt;i&gt;&quot;Dads, don&#39;t let your boys screw up again.&amp;nbsp; And turn them in, so they&#39;ll learn their lessons&quot;&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/6675076216489221372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/6675076216489221372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/06/notes-from-heart.html' title='Notes from the Heart'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVMBS2hrSyme-QC6TnBmIG5XpFj7_eS3tEYM5elbDe6QhMLgPVSI2Qmrrhy7X6OlI9SheFPuH8lAtUDS9jDG7fFwddRLUZ-PiHWiAogrXqrV7QMcVgtW4s4KZoRUnleumwV4U1JRdj0Uw/s72-c/P17-06-11_12-47.jpg" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-2396430403281903986</id><published>2011-06-15T12:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T13:00:54.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Team Spirit</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m completely blown away and overwhelmed with what&#39;s going on here in Vancouver.&amp;nbsp; Hundreds of&amp;nbsp;Vancouverites,&amp;nbsp;regardless of&amp;nbsp;skin color, &amp;nbsp;would be flocking downtown area.&amp;nbsp; A large TV screen has been installed since the series has started.&amp;nbsp; There&#39;d be yelling, screaming, jumping, cheering&amp;nbsp;and all sorts of expression later this afternoon.&amp;nbsp; Then the aftermath would be determined - it could be a celebration or a bereavement.&amp;nbsp; What would prompt this?&amp;nbsp; The game 7 of the Stanley Cups Final.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I have blogged this before that I&#39;m not a hockey fan. But when I&#39;ve started following the series, I get&amp;nbsp;hooked up with it.&amp;nbsp; Now I&#39;m enjoying the game ever before, to the point of getting really affected&amp;nbsp;whenever our&amp;nbsp;home team lose.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And this morning, I told my co-worker that I&#39;m&amp;nbsp; not sure if&amp;nbsp;I&#39;m going to watch&amp;nbsp;the game because I&#39;m afraid I&amp;nbsp;gonna&amp;nbsp;have a heart attack.&amp;nbsp; That&#39;s&amp;nbsp;how succumbed I am now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I know there&#39;s a lot of mixed feelings, and emotions are high here right now.&amp;nbsp; Yet just like the previous games, I&#39;ve never seen how the Vancouverites are so passionate about their team.&amp;nbsp; How much support they&#39;re showing to their team, win or lose.&amp;nbsp; I heard one said,&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;&quot;Whatever happens to your team, you don&#39;t quit on them.&amp;nbsp; You&#39;re still&amp;nbsp;behind them.&quot;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; That to me is inspiring.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And you know what else&amp;nbsp;inspires me?&amp;nbsp; The sight of a city being united by one team, and that whatever happens -&amp;nbsp;win or lose,&amp;nbsp; we&#39;re still one as a team.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;When the Vancouver Canucks was slammed by Boston Bruins during game 6,&amp;nbsp; the goalie,&amp;nbsp;Roberto Loungo﻿ said in an interview after the game,&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;&quot;I have to believe in myself, right?&quot;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; - And that&#39;s exactly the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;exactly the spirit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/3/3a/Vancouver_Canucks_logo.svg/200px-Vancouver_Canucks_logo.svg.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;193&quot; id=&quot;il_fi&quot; src=&quot;http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/3/3a/Vancouver_Canucks_logo.svg/200px-Vancouver_Canucks_logo.svg.png&quot; style=&quot;padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&quot;When some people&amp;nbsp;stop&amp;nbsp;believing in you, you have to believe in yourself.&amp;nbsp; Because it&#39;s only you who have the power to change everything&quot;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;﻿&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2396430403281903986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2396430403281903986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/06/team-spirit.html' title='The Team Spirit'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-593270912076864458</id><published>2011-06-07T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T13:03:17.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Dream</title><content type='html'>Do you still remember what you wanted to do when you were I child?  I do.  I wanted to dance.  I was 12, when I dreamt to be a ballerina...&lt;br&gt;
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I knew back then that I was born to dance.  When I was 6 years old I won a dance contest in class while dancing the swing with a little boy.  I didn&amp;#39;t even know that swing was a popular dance during that time.  &lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/06/just-dream.html#more&quot;&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/593270912076864458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/593270912076864458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/06/just-dream.html' title='Just Dream'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-2539782523305698463</id><published>2011-05-26T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T13:52:14.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passion not Obsession</title><content type='html'>Though the weather in Vancouver has been really nasty (described by the weatherman as &amp;quot;lousy spring weather&amp;quot;), there&amp;#39;s still something that&amp;#39;s keeping us puffed up - the Canucks Fever.  I&amp;#39;m not really a perennial follower of them.  Not because I don&amp;#39;t like them, but because I&amp;#39;ve never really been a solid fanatic of anything.  But this Canucks Fever is getting me really drawn to keep an eye on. Well, if it&amp;#39;s all over the news day and night, who won&amp;#39;t?&lt;br&gt;
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This is how the power of fans really work.  It&amp;#39;s like reminiscing the Olympic moment.  When everybody was looking forward to the last, big Olympic game - the hockey.  And it was the first time I really sat and watched from start to finish.  Prior to that, I made sure I was through the day&amp;#39;s errands and then I crashed at my sister&amp;#39;s apartment to watch it. I even told them to drop everything and focus on the game.   And when that winning moment took place, I was a fan...So that was my short story of being a hockey fan.&lt;br&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/05/passion-not-obsession.html#more&quot;&gt;Read more »&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2539782523305698463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2539782523305698463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/05/passion-not-obsession.html' title='Passion not Obsession'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZUYAb5_dE0IwN9U84ODuCMXHZqJAcgvvyx59hsRvhPpnTu1JY_v6TpksfV4FV9tY_v9Q0qGFo_JxWAdPRNhD91EC3WI3hmi_o9ItMdxP5lCgLgvVybST9_4k8NcHslNHgbafWYmJu3Vg/s72-c/canucksfans7.jpg" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-7913837446845341412</id><published>2011-05-17T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T15:58:03.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tips in moving</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I helped out in my sister&#39;s moving last weekend to their new place.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And I never expected to be totally stressed out.&amp;nbsp; I felt it the next day when I couldn&#39;t get up from bed the rest of the day because of a terrible headache.&amp;nbsp; I realized that it wasn&#39;t&amp;nbsp;more of a&amp;nbsp;physical stress, but more of mental stress.&amp;nbsp; Then yesterday when I was all&amp;nbsp;powered-up and recharged, I kept thinking how that happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I had my shares of moving in and out from different places, but I&#39;d never experienced this kind of stress I had with my sister last weekend.&amp;nbsp; Actually, this was the first time I helped them moved out since the time we lived in the same apartment.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Before, we didn&#39;t have much stuff to worry about because we were just starting out. So the move glided smoothly without wearing us out.&amp;nbsp; But this recent move was&amp;nbsp;a&amp;nbsp;major&amp;nbsp;setback in my &quot;moving&quot; history.&amp;nbsp; And because of that, I promised myself to list my major conditions next time they ask me to help them out.&amp;nbsp; I also listed important notes for myself to follow next time I/we move out.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It&#39;s basically all the&amp;nbsp;lessons&amp;nbsp;I learned from all&amp;nbsp;these, and&amp;nbsp;how I would go about the next time this happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;1.&amp;nbsp; Plan the packing ahead -&amp;nbsp;Few weeks before the date of move, I asked my sister&amp;nbsp;if she&#39;d be needing&amp;nbsp;a hand&amp;nbsp;to pack and that I was willing to help.&amp;nbsp; But she&amp;nbsp;assured me that everything was well.&amp;nbsp; When I came by Friday night, I realized that there was more stuff to pack.&amp;nbsp;Evenmore, it was 11pm, we were tired from work,&amp;nbsp;and the move-out time is 9.30am the next day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tips:&amp;nbsp; Start packing the items that&amp;nbsp;you won&#39;t be using anymore&amp;nbsp;on the coming weeks/days, or items that are just idling. e.g. books; picture frames; clothes; supplies&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;2. Zone out target areas -&amp;nbsp; When&amp;nbsp;we started packing, I didn&#39;t know where to start and what items to pack first.&amp;nbsp;It seemed to me that every quarters of the house needed attention and boxing.&amp;nbsp; Since it wasn&#39;t my place, I just followed instructions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tips:&amp;nbsp; The day before the move, assume how many boxes needed and prepare them for each quarters of the house.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Station all boxes in that area.&amp;nbsp; Make sure to concentrate on a specific room of the house (e.g. kitchen) when packing before jumping in to another room.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;3. No to small/little boxes, or to huge boxes -&amp;nbsp;We had trouble figuring out which boxes to use for specific items.&amp;nbsp; Some boxes were either too small or too big.&amp;nbsp; Since they just hired two men and a truck, the boxes had to be solicited from somewhere; that included the boxes I got from work and boxes they sourced from other places.&amp;nbsp; As a result, we had assortment of boxes; &amp;nbsp;from the size of&amp;nbsp; shoe boxes to&amp;nbsp;LCD-TV boxes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tips:&amp;nbsp; I think the appropriate box&amp;nbsp;for moving should not be smaller than 24&quot;x24&quot;x24&quot;, and sturdy enough to handle items like hard-bound books and dishes.&amp;nbsp;It can also fit all sort of small items, like; figurines, bottles, souvenirs, picture-frames,&amp;nbsp;etc., and still have room for bubble wrap if needed.&amp;nbsp; And also, it would be easier and faster for the movers to pick-up and stack these boxes.&amp;nbsp; Sometimes a garbage bag can work too for lighter and bulky items.&amp;nbsp; You can squeeze in wherever space is limited.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;4. Sort-out and toss-away garbages before the move -&amp;nbsp; I noticed while I was packing, that some&amp;nbsp;of my sister&#39;s stuff&amp;nbsp;had to be recycled or thrown-out.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I got even confused as to which should be in or out of the boxes.&amp;nbsp; It seemed that there&amp;nbsp;were rubbish and century-old stuff that didn&#39;t&amp;nbsp;have to go to the new place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tips:&amp;nbsp; If you&#39;re moving to a new place, make sure to minimize unused items.&amp;nbsp; Do spring-cleaning weeks before the move to figure out which should go or&amp;nbsp;which should be left&amp;nbsp;behind.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;5. Prepare pens for labelling -&amp;nbsp;Since we were short of time, and all burned out from work that night, we scrambled on the packing.&amp;nbsp; We put in the boxes whatever we picked-up and when it was full, we sealed it right away.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We didn&#39;t &amp;nbsp;realize to label the boxes.&amp;nbsp; And&amp;nbsp;when we remembered, we couldn&#39;t find a single marker available.&amp;nbsp;All my sister&#39;s office materials and supplies were boxed-in.&amp;nbsp; Hence, we struggled with a ballpen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tips:&amp;nbsp; Set aside labelling materials for all the boxes days before.&amp;nbsp; Use color-coding pens, stickers or tapes&amp;nbsp;to remember where they&#39;re from or where to stack them in the new place. Or simply, use a thick/chisel-type permanent marker and label with very visible letters.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;6.&amp;nbsp;Plants should be&amp;nbsp;the last to leave and first to go -&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Just like me, my sister&amp;nbsp;kept&amp;nbsp;potted-plants.&amp;nbsp; And while we were waiting for the movers that morning, we were chatting about them.&amp;nbsp; I was surprised to see that they&amp;nbsp;were more prepared than the&amp;nbsp;boxes, because&amp;nbsp;they had a special bucket container with handle provided for them.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Then when the movers began taking the boxes, we&amp;nbsp;hid them away in the small room to make sure they wouldn&#39;t get dragged or trampled.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tips:&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve learned this from our office plant-maintenance guys; That all plants should be the last to be loaded on the truck, and the first one to be unloaded off.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Still,&amp;nbsp;it didn&#39;t&amp;nbsp;end here.&amp;nbsp; There was&amp;nbsp;another headache during the move, and that was the unpacking part.&amp;nbsp; But since it was my sister&#39;s new house, she was more excited than ever.&amp;nbsp; And probably didn&#39;t feel the stress.&lt;br /&gt;
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But&amp;nbsp;for me,&amp;nbsp;if the packing goes well, then the&amp;nbsp;unpacking should just be a walk in the park...Good thing I didn&#39;t get involve in the unpacking.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/7913837446845341412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/7913837446845341412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/05/tips-in-moving.html' title='Tips in moving'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-4320155532691518948</id><published>2011-05-04T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T21:07:36.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Samba(s)</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m a fan of ballroom dancing, and samba is one of my favorites. I&#39;ve seen it heat up the ballroom many times, but I never thought it could also be bang on the ice.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
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Here&#39;s a double dose of samba and more - with an interesting twist...to the samba lovers... &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.youtube.com/embed/EXkskLzUDe0?feature=player_embedded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.youtube.com/embed/YEu4M3aFNh0?feature=player_embedded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/4320155532691518948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/4320155532691518948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/05/sambas.html' title='Samba(s)'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-2636156432191374451</id><published>2011-04-25T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T15:18:39.289-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Practical Knowledge</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I&#39;ve just finished reading the book, &quot;Outliers&quot; by Malcolm Gladwell. And just like any of my other readings, I always take important notes.&amp;nbsp;So I&#39;ve&amp;nbsp;highlighted a lot of good points in the book. Actually, there&#39;s so many&amp;nbsp;that&#39;s&amp;nbsp;worth keeping and sharing.&amp;nbsp; But there&#39;s one part&amp;nbsp;that has struck the head out of me&amp;nbsp;and feel the urged&amp;nbsp; to write about.&amp;nbsp; And that&#39;s about&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&quot;Practical Knowledge.&quot;&amp;nbsp; Something that I&#39;ve been trying to&amp;nbsp;explore in my&amp;nbsp;mind while reading.&amp;nbsp; For the reason that, it&#39;s the thought&amp;nbsp; that explains a&amp;nbsp;portion of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;In chapter 4 - The Trouble with Geniuses, Malcolm Gladwell wrote the case of Christopher Langan.&amp;nbsp; The man whose IQ measured one ninety-five, more than that of Einstein&#39;s one fifty.&amp;nbsp; And as described in the book -&amp;nbsp; &quot;too high to be accurately measured.&quot;&amp;nbsp; Malcolm then delved into the life and history of Chris Langan, and&amp;nbsp;cited a better understanding to why inspite being a genius, he still ended-up unsuccessful in life.&amp;nbsp;He compared him with another&amp;nbsp;genius named Robert Oppenheimer, who was equally&amp;nbsp;bright like Chris Langan.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The difference he pointed out between the two &amp;nbsp;was their&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;family background which became the defining factor&amp;nbsp;why&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Oppeneimer became&amp;nbsp;by far more&amp;nbsp;succesful than Langan.&lt;br /&gt;
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Through Malcolm&#39;s study of their backgrounds, he was able to give a very interesting explanation to these two genuises, and why&amp;nbsp;they both ended-up on&amp;nbsp;the opposite&amp;nbsp;sides&amp;nbsp;of&amp;nbsp;success.&amp;nbsp; The theory of psychologist Robert Sternberg&amp;nbsp;was&amp;nbsp;the one&amp;nbsp;he noted&amp;nbsp;to make&amp;nbsp;his&amp;nbsp;point strongly convincing.&amp;nbsp; And here&#39;s what&amp;nbsp;it says on the book:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&quot;...&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;To Sternberg, practical intelligence includes things like &quot;knowing what to say to whom, knowing when to say it, and knowing how to say it for maximum effect. &quot; It is procedural: it is about knowing how to do something without necessarily knowing why you know it or being able to explain it. It&#39;s practical in nature: that is, it&#39;s not knowledge for its own sake. It&#39;s knowledge that helps you read situations corectly and get what you want. And, critically, it is a kind of intelligence separate from the sort of analytical ability measured by IQ. To use the technical term, general intelligence and practial intelligence are &quot;orthogonal&quot;: the presence of one doesn&#39;t imply the presence of the other. You can have lots of analytical intelligence and very little practical intelligence, or lots of practical intelligence and not much analytical intelligence, or - as in the lucky case of someone like Robert Oppenheimer - you can have lots of both.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;So where does something like practical intelligence come from? We know where analytical intelligence comes from. It&#39;s something, at least in part, that&#39;s in your genes...IQ is a measure, to some degree, of innate ability. But social savvy is knowledge. It&#39;s a set of skills that have to be learned. It has to come from somewhere, and the place where we seem to get these kinds of attitudes and skills is from our families.&lt;/em&gt;&quot;*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I remember when my sisters&#39; and I were in high school, everytime somebody in school&amp;nbsp;would&amp;nbsp;know that I was&amp;nbsp; related to either one of them, they&#39;d say, &quot;..so you&#39;re the sister of ____?&quot; And when they&#39;d introduce me to other girls, they&#39;d say the same thing - &quot;..she&#39;s the sister of ____&quot;&amp;nbsp; Yes, it was clear that I didn&#39;t have any distinctive identity in school but the &quot;sister of ___.&quot;&amp;nbsp; And this could either be&amp;nbsp;my older or younger sister.&amp;nbsp; This was because my two sisters were straight A&#39;s students and both of them&amp;nbsp;were popular&amp;nbsp;in school for being top achievers. While&amp;nbsp;I, on the otherhand, was the &quot;forgettable&quot; one.&amp;nbsp; The one who lived in the shadow&amp;nbsp;of the sister.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I considered myself a shy and average type of student in school.&amp;nbsp; While my sisters were&amp;nbsp;marching up the&amp;nbsp;podium several times to receive awards and medals, I was out there having fun and&amp;nbsp;mocking with friends.&amp;nbsp;I didn&#39;t care if my grades were B&#39;s.&amp;nbsp; For as long as I didn&#39;t have failing grades, I was ok with that.&amp;nbsp;What I&#39;d love to do&amp;nbsp;was to spend the day hanging out in the library checking out all the books in circulation, or chitchatting with friends on the school grounds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;When we all went to university, my sisters&#39; still continued to collect A&#39;s and even became scholars and cum laude, while I was still the same content student just getting by with&amp;nbsp; fair grades.&amp;nbsp; I never got jealous or bitter though with what my sisters achieved academically, even if my parents would brag about them profusely to every friends and relatives.&amp;nbsp; I would just be on the sideline listening and waiting to be called&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;-&amp;nbsp;&quot;...the sister of ____&quot;, and in return I&#39;d show them my cheekiest smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Today, I&amp;nbsp;already have&amp;nbsp;my own identity.&amp;nbsp; I don&#39;t live in the shadows of my sisters anymore.&amp;nbsp; Though&amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve never been an A student or a scholar/cum laude, I&#39;m equally successful as my sisters.&amp;nbsp;Success in&amp;nbsp;my definition as&amp;nbsp;having a comfortable&amp;nbsp;and secure life(that includes monetary).&amp;nbsp;Like,&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;get to&amp;nbsp;purchased my own car and home with my own earnings without seeking financial assistance from my parents or sisters.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;m living&amp;nbsp;the kind of&amp;nbsp;life I&#39;ve always wanted to have.&amp;nbsp;And whenever I look back, I keep wondering how&amp;nbsp;I get here&amp;nbsp;knowing that I&#39;ve never excelled in school- that I&#39;m always the&amp;nbsp;shy gal who&#39;s just cool with a fair mark.&amp;nbsp;But&amp;nbsp;there&#39;s one thing that&#39;s&amp;nbsp;prominent in me though,&amp;nbsp; I love taking risks and meeting challenges.&amp;nbsp; If at times I feel awkward, I&amp;nbsp;choose a&amp;nbsp;character to get&amp;nbsp;by a situation. I don&#39;t know, but I&amp;nbsp;just know how and when to deal with stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;There&amp;nbsp;are&amp;nbsp;also few&amp;nbsp;people I know&amp;nbsp; from school who&#39;s just average student like me,&amp;nbsp;but now I&#39;m&amp;nbsp;surprised&amp;nbsp;to hear how successful they&amp;nbsp;are&amp;nbsp;in their own chosen field.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;So&amp;nbsp;should I say that we all have one thing in common? That we are not geniuses but still smart ones; that probably we&amp;nbsp;don&#39;t have&amp;nbsp;(or have less) analytical knowledge, but we have more&amp;nbsp;&quot;practical knowledge.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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When I analyze it, I&amp;nbsp;believe the theory is correct and Gladwell has explained it very well. What he&amp;nbsp;has just&amp;nbsp;missed-out here is the correlation between&amp;nbsp;&quot;common sense&quot;&amp;nbsp;and &quot;practical knowledge&quot; which I think&amp;nbsp;has&amp;nbsp;the same&amp;nbsp;nature and&amp;nbsp;degree of relevance.&amp;nbsp; And which can provide more reasoning why some&amp;nbsp;low-key people are smarter than the highly educated ones...&amp;nbsp;But about the assumption that we get&amp;nbsp;it from our family,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;that part for me is a little bit shady and needs more thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;___________&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;span lang=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;*&quot;The Trouble with Geniuses, Part 2&quot;, pp 101-102, OUTLIERS by Malcolm Gladwell&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2636156432191374451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2636156432191374451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/04/practical-knowledge.html' title='Practical Knowledge'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCSsyYTntGEgLKs1TEog_33dgnmV3VZ4q0DiXy58IajdSIv0yhyPUVjLTJSM17056ScyynT54Yy5ED3nWvmz8SdzVfrN8gKdnpPtrMsnq2wGfmm6cNNIvzM9F7e625ugdQdDpyMn8Yd0/s72-c/200px-Outliers.png" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-1903958155439436047</id><published>2011-04-06T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T11:05:01.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 125th Birthday Vancouver, BC!</title><content type='html'>Vancouverites are celebrating a special day today. And of course, there&#39;s lot of fun activities downtown.&amp;nbsp; It always&amp;nbsp;delights me to hear exciting news like this because it reminds me of&amp;nbsp; bubbling Vancouver a year ago...&lt;br /&gt;
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The global early news posted a question to the viewers this morning: &quot;What&#39;s your memorable moments in Vancouver?&quot;&amp;nbsp; As I heard this, the 2010 winter olympic popped up right away in mind.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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Yes, it was&amp;nbsp;the winter olympic that was&amp;nbsp;the most distinct to me because I&#39;d never seen this city flocked by so many people at one time.&amp;nbsp; And the canadian spirit was so overwhelming!...Like I always say - it was viral...&lt;br /&gt;
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Here&#39;s how I journalized it in my facebook account.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Little Red Maple Leaf&lt;/strong&gt; by Myla Palisoc on Wednesday, February 24, 2010 at 9:47am&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;Red is the trend dominating these days in Vancouver. I&#39;m not really a big fan of color red. But it reminds me of my mom. It&#39;s her big time favorite hue, and those times, I thought she&#39;s over indulging with it. But lately, I&#39;ve realized red offers a lot of delectables in variety. When added with black, it creates drama. When mixed with bright colors, it lights up the mood. When matched with white, it definitely signifies distinction. That&#39;s why most flags have red color in it...Like this little red maple leaf with a white background. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;It&#39;s just everywhere in town...A maple leaf mark on the cheek of a little girl; another on the muppet hat of that hunky white guy; on the hooded jacket; on the scarf; on a jersey shirt; on the shoes, wrist, and I wonder where else they&#39;ve tatooed the maple leaf that&#39;s unheard of. And of course, not to forget the very apparent canadian flags that&#39;s standing at every named stalls or gizmos around. You name it. They flag it. Everybody is loving it, and no one can&#39;t get enough of it. Even me, the not-so-into-it person, is hooked up to this contagious patriotism. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;I&#39;ve never seen this much patriotism in my whole life. I find that these are patriots of a different kind. They&#39;re not people who are protesting to oust a dictator; or fighting for justice and freedom; or rallying for an important cause. But they are citizens who come together; raising their fist for their team, and cheering gold for their country. Wow! what a fun way to be a patriot. So overwhelming to watch; So ground-shaking. It gives me goose bumps. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;I&#39;m not usually a crowd person. And if there&#39;s any way for me to avoid it, I don&#39;t hesitate. I prefer watching from afar and gauge the outcome. But on this occasion , for some reason, this time I want to be there. I want to be one of them, because I sense a magnitude of positive energy. I want to feel it and have it too...And so there I go, been here with the crowd of canadians for two weekends now. No matter how stifling it is because of the long walk and wait, but I still merge with the over enthusiastic canadians. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;The energy is just so enormous. The spirit is high. Again, it&#39;s contagious. It&#39;s infectious. Where in the world can you find a crowd that emits so much positive energy? Where else but here in the olympic games, I guess. Now I know why participant countries grappling hard to take their chance to host the games. It&#39;s because of the positivity it brings to their country. But do all these participant countries have the same degree of patriotism in their land during the olympic? Or is it just the canadians? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;Nevertheless, it&#39;s a good feeling. And if patriotism is a contagious disease, I don&#39;t mind getting it. Because it makes me feel significant. When they see me wearing the red leaf, they smile. It&#39;s a confirmation that I&#39;m part of their team. And why not? This is my foster home now. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;In a few days, the games will close. Every Canadian will go back to their simple life in their quiet town. But everyone will always remember these days in Vancouver. The days where every single Canadian becomes a true patriot... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;em&gt;Well of course, I have a snapshot of my tiny olympic moment as well. I don&#39;t want to miss it --This once in lifetime positive patriotism in Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympic. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQxJAt0qE7c-LX4Rr87J-zCHRcE7jsjAUXUBiu3d2Wibegzm5Tsj1qYzaqO_BRVI9fk0mD9kV7VEBH2FBKUiqmCEmWtXsI6iEi8XrklIiruGtkt-nOvu7EapS72JPM_UsGiaWfzkeiso/s1600/untitled.bmp&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; r6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQxJAt0qE7c-LX4Rr87J-zCHRcE7jsjAUXUBiu3d2Wibegzm5Tsj1qYzaqO_BRVI9fk0mD9kV7VEBH2FBKUiqmCEmWtXsI6iEi8XrklIiruGtkt-nOvu7EapS72JPM_UsGiaWfzkeiso/s320/untitled.bmp&quot; width=&quot;239&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;My little red souvenir in downtown Vancouver.&amp;nbsp; The crowdest place on earth&amp;nbsp;24/7 last February 2010.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/1903958155439436047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/1903958155439436047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/04/happy-125th-birthday-vancouver-bc.html' title='Happy 125th Birthday Vancouver, BC!'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQxJAt0qE7c-LX4Rr87J-zCHRcE7jsjAUXUBiu3d2Wibegzm5Tsj1qYzaqO_BRVI9fk0mD9kV7VEBH2FBKUiqmCEmWtXsI6iEi8XrklIiruGtkt-nOvu7EapS72JPM_UsGiaWfzkeiso/s72-c/untitled.bmp" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-2863565104929161275</id><published>2011-04-01T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T10:59:21.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Over the rainbow</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Somewhere over the rainbow way up high...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;...Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And the dreams that you dare to the dream,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Really do come true...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZAubK0L9JktcqbWLAUsm6xOao4HgjxH04Ll4S8q9smA1jK6l_5l_2-iV-zXrEF-nUmXzuh8lvDwZLAorbJ3F2iA6YPquOJ2a2Xbx-rcNG30T3zMK1M4c_vyTop1_OhFx2NutKhjwbw2M/s1600/P1010211.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;225&quot; r6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZAubK0L9JktcqbWLAUsm6xOao4HgjxH04Ll4S8q9smA1jK6l_5l_2-iV-zXrEF-nUmXzuh8lvDwZLAorbJ3F2iA6YPquOJ2a2Xbx-rcNG30T3zMK1M4c_vyTop1_OhFx2NutKhjwbw2M/s400/P1010211.JPG&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;As we struggle with the harsh reality&amp;nbsp;of life, this glimmering horizon promises good things ahead...&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ...And for the fallen and the broken, there&#39;s hope waiting over the rainbow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;...If happy little blue birds fly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Beyond the rainbow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Why, oh why can&#39;t I?&lt;/em&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2863565104929161275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2863565104929161275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/04/over-rainbow.html' title='Over the rainbow'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZAubK0L9JktcqbWLAUsm6xOao4HgjxH04Ll4S8q9smA1jK6l_5l_2-iV-zXrEF-nUmXzuh8lvDwZLAorbJ3F2iA6YPquOJ2a2Xbx-rcNG30T3zMK1M4c_vyTop1_OhFx2NutKhjwbw2M/s72-c/P1010211.JPG" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-8287833688968028785</id><published>2011-03-30T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T22:13:00.189-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I&#39;m up for a &quot;challenge?&quot;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;There&#39;s an email circulating at work about a &quot;fitness challenge&quot; organize by one of our partners in trade.&amp;nbsp; How the challenge works is, we have to pick one from the 4 fitness options:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Option 1: Exercise at least 30 minutes per day, minimum 3 times per week = total of 30 times over a 68 day period.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Option 2: Option 1 + 1 lifestyle change for duration of Challenge (i.e. no caffeine, increase water intake daily, no pop or no alcohol etc.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Option 3: Push your limits with exercising a minimum of 30 minutes for all 68 days of the Challenge!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;(Note: if you miss a day – on one occasion per week you are permitted to work out for 60 minutes to make up for the missed day. This is only permitted once per week as the goal is to have fitness in your day – everyday).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Option 4: Option 3 + 1 lifestyle change&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;This&amp;nbsp;should be done for 68 days from April 4th to June 17th.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;A lot of my co-workers has&amp;nbsp;signed-in to the challenge.&amp;nbsp; It just started with 2 people interested, then 7, and just today, 11 have&amp;nbsp;listed to participate.&amp;nbsp; Almost everybody has shown interest, but me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Everytime I see these emails pop up, I ask myself, &quot;Do I need a fitness challenge?&quot;. Then a negative voice inside me would whisper, &quot;&lt;em&gt;Oh it&#39;s just a fad.&amp;nbsp;I know they&#39;re just joining to be in the circle&lt;/em&gt;&quot;. &amp;nbsp;Because I know when you say &quot;fitness&quot;, this&amp;nbsp;has to do with overweight issues.&amp;nbsp; And&amp;nbsp;I don&#39;t know&amp;nbsp;if I need&amp;nbsp; this challenge.&amp;nbsp;Besides,&amp;nbsp;I&#39;m already practicing a healthy lifestyle.&amp;nbsp;However, it seems like I&#39;m the only one who&#39;s not participating&amp;nbsp;in this challenge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;So as I&#39;m wondering why this doesn&#39;t stir my&amp;nbsp;interest, my co-worker, who&#39;s assigned to spearhead this, approach me.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&quot;Do you wanna join the fitness challenge?&quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I replied, &quot;Do I need a fitness challenge?&quot;, while looking uncertain&amp;nbsp;and &amp;nbsp;intently at her.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And she stared back&amp;nbsp;at me puzzled.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Then I brushed off&amp;nbsp; my&amp;nbsp; thoughts and said, &quot;...I was just&amp;nbsp;asking myself...&quot;&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;Yeah, it&#39;s actually a hypothetical question.&lt;/em&gt; And I added, &quot;What do I need to do?&quot;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&quot;You can walk half an hour everyday&quot;, she replied&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&quot;But I always do that!&quot; I burted again...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&quot;Then there you go!&quot;, a voice surprisingly barged in. It&#39;s my co-worker across my workstation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&quot;Ok...sure...if it doesn&#39;t change any of my habits&quot;, I jested.&amp;nbsp; And they laughed along.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;After that, I&amp;nbsp;realized I sounded really indifferent and apathetic.&amp;nbsp; So I&amp;nbsp;contemplated more and ask myself&amp;nbsp; why I have this persisting disinterest to this challenge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;And this is&amp;nbsp;what I came up with:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;First and foremost, I&#39;m not overweight, but actually underweight.&amp;nbsp; And if there&#39;s anything that I&#39;d&amp;nbsp;have to do is increase my&amp;nbsp;90lbs&amp;nbsp;weight, which I&#39;ve always been trying&amp;nbsp;for the longest time.&amp;nbsp; But it seems through all these years, I&#39;ve never been successful.&amp;nbsp; No matter&amp;nbsp;what I&amp;nbsp;feed myself, I&#39;ve never left this number 90.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I couldn&#39;t forget what&amp;nbsp;my mom&amp;nbsp;told me&amp;nbsp;during her visit,&amp;nbsp; &quot;Can you please gain weight!&quot;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; So until now, I&#39;m still in the process of finding a way.&amp;nbsp; But someone has told me long ago -&amp;nbsp;it&#39;s my metabolism.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Second, I&#39;m a very active person.&amp;nbsp;I always find something to do.&amp;nbsp;When&amp;nbsp;I&#39;m at home, I&#39;m either vacumming the floor; decluttering my already neat&amp;nbsp;space; or&amp;nbsp;hanging out&amp;nbsp;in my kitchen - cooking.&amp;nbsp;And when&amp;nbsp;I&#39;m out,&amp;nbsp;I&#39;ll be everywhere -just walking around.&amp;nbsp;The only time I am&amp;nbsp;still, is when I&#39;m&amp;nbsp;sleeping or sick.&amp;nbsp; So about&amp;nbsp; walking as exercise, it&#39;s not really new to me.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve been walking all my life.&amp;nbsp; And I don&#39;t even consider it as exercise or fitness regimen. Walking is part of my lifestyle.&amp;nbsp; I even walk and run in heels.&amp;nbsp;So where&#39;s the challenge to option 1?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;The last reason is, the options they&#39;ve laid is not as challenging to me&amp;nbsp;that I&#39;ve been &amp;nbsp;wanting&amp;nbsp;to be a part of.&amp;nbsp; Maybe if they organize something more vigorous and stringent, like&amp;nbsp; &quot;ala-amazing race&quot; challenge, where my adrenaline rush would be tested to the limits. Then, I will be the first one to sign-in.&amp;nbsp;That&#39;s the challenge I want to experience.&amp;nbsp;Actually, it&#39;s my wish to be&amp;nbsp;a contender&amp;nbsp;for the Amazing Race.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;But now that I&#39;ve agreed to participate, am I really up for a challenge?&amp;nbsp; Or should I just take it like a walk in the park so I won&#39;t be called corny by my co-workers. And instead,&amp;nbsp;just challenge myself with more exciting things...Well, I know I&#39;ll be starting again with my yoga-pilates this season.&amp;nbsp; And there&#39;s the ice skating that I&#39;ll be doing&amp;nbsp;with my friend this summer...the biking I&#39;m planning...ballroom dancing I want to take...swimming...travel...hmm? What else?...&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/8287833688968028785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/8287833688968028785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/03/im-up-for-challenge.html' title='I&#39;m up for a &quot;challenge?&quot;'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-2310049724034382335</id><published>2011-03-15T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T11:39:03.407-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disaster Recovery Program</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;The earthquake that happened last week in Japan is overwhelming.&amp;nbsp; Everybody&amp;nbsp;is&amp;nbsp;rattled with the subsequent events.&amp;nbsp; And our office is one of those shaken&amp;nbsp;by fear&amp;nbsp;because we are partly Japanese-owned company... Actually, two of our&amp;nbsp;bosses&amp;nbsp;were there at that time it happened, and they said that our Tokyo office&amp;nbsp;was&amp;nbsp;significantly damaged as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;It was&amp;nbsp;a coincidence that the night before I learned about the news, I was with my groupmate discussing our case study in records management course.&amp;nbsp; And one subtopic that I was particularly&amp;nbsp;uncertain&amp;nbsp; about was the disaster recovery plan.&amp;nbsp; It took me days to write the report and prepare the presentation.&amp;nbsp;It was easy to&amp;nbsp;state the problems and determine&amp;nbsp;our objectives and goals, but figuring out a suitable disaster recovery program was hard.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Then I wonder after looking at the aftermath of Japan&#39;s earthquake,&amp;nbsp; do they have a disaster recovery plan?&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;It&#39;s a fact&amp;nbsp;that disasters are inevitable.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;There are&amp;nbsp;people&amp;nbsp;who&amp;nbsp;attempted to tell future calamities, but nobody&amp;nbsp;has been accurate about&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;place and date.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Like&amp;nbsp;when a seismologiest forecast&amp;nbsp;a forthcoming&amp;nbsp;earthquake. He can only project particular region or time, but can&#39;t say the exact&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;date, place and intensity.&amp;nbsp; This shows that&amp;nbsp;our intellect is still short to understand how the forces of nature works.&amp;nbsp; Many have tried. Probably&amp;nbsp;a few&amp;nbsp;came close to the phenomenon. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So how do we deal with&amp;nbsp;it when it happens then?&amp;nbsp; No can really exactly what to do especially if you&#39;re caught by surprise.&amp;nbsp; I guess the best&amp;nbsp;way,&amp;nbsp;is to be ready and prepared at all times.&amp;nbsp; And when we&amp;nbsp;say ready, we mean - having the tools and resources for&amp;nbsp;the aftermath.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;It&#39;s surprising that when you google the word &quot;disaster recovery plan&quot;, you&#39;ll see a bunch of IT-related computer recovery programs; including, the&amp;nbsp;business-related recovery plans.&amp;nbsp; But none about disaster recovery for natural calamities.&amp;nbsp; Or maybe there is one out there, but no one has spread the word yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;During one of our class in records management,&amp;nbsp; one organization named Belfor&amp;nbsp;has&amp;nbsp;spoken about&amp;nbsp;records recovery program.&amp;nbsp; They&#39;ve done a presentation on the Cayman Island&#39;s records recovery after it was hit by a devastating hurricane few years back.&amp;nbsp; They&#39;ve shown a thorough presentation that I couldn&#39;t imagine&amp;nbsp;how much extensive and tedious to do records recovery. It took them an exasperating 2 years to finish the whole work&amp;nbsp;in reviving Cayman&amp;nbsp;Island&#39;s&amp;nbsp;vital&amp;nbsp;records.&amp;nbsp; I was&amp;nbsp;impressed with the results.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I&#39;d say they are really experienced in this field, but probably took&amp;nbsp;them many years to be fully trained, equipped and knowledgeable in&amp;nbsp;this disaster recovery program... I bet they may be called to do records recovery too&amp;nbsp;for Japan because of their expertise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;So I wonder, what&amp;nbsp;if there&#39;s a disaster recovery group like Belfor to&amp;nbsp;come&amp;nbsp;during natural disasters like this one in Japan, and likewise the one in New Zealand.&amp;nbsp; Then perhaps it will bring great relief&amp;nbsp;to&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;victims, and get assurance that a full rescue and recovery is underway.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With the frequent occurrence of natural disaster these days, this is probably a good idea.&amp;nbsp;A&amp;nbsp;world organization that looks&amp;nbsp;only after&amp;nbsp;natural disasters.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Just like the &amp;nbsp;UN Environmental Programme and&amp;nbsp;the UNICEF World Hunger Program that&#39;s working only for that particular task&amp;nbsp; around the clock. And that this particular organization will provide all the training, resources and manpower before, during&amp;nbsp;and the aftermath.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Everybody knows that Japan is the most technologically advanced country, and the most emergency prepared citizens.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But still, this disaster has caught them off-guard.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And no one expected that&amp;nbsp;their supplies&amp;nbsp;would be depleting.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know the feeling of being in this predicament for my family when a great flood plagued Manila 2 years ago. My sister and I were just watching&amp;nbsp; and waiting&amp;nbsp;for what&#39;s the next to&amp;nbsp;come - &amp;nbsp;feeling so helpless.&amp;nbsp; And the hardest part they went through after the flood was the recovery period.&amp;nbsp; It took them a year to get back with their lives, with occasional fear of that same episode everytime an alarming storm threatens the country.&lt;br /&gt;
The signs are showing that the earth is extremely vulnerable, and another disaster may develop.&amp;nbsp; Where and when, we don&#39;t know.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But there&#39;s something we can do - gear ourselves with disaster readiness and recovery preparedness plan.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I thought I wouldn&#39; find a disaster and emergency information website.&amp;nbsp; But here&#39;s&amp;nbsp;one&amp;nbsp;handy with resources and tips: &amp;nbsp; &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.fema.gov/plan/index.shtm&quot;&gt;http://www.fema.gov/plan/index.shtm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2310049724034382335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/2310049724034382335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/03/disaster-recovery-program.html' title='Disaster Recovery Program'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-6488229344635071997</id><published>2011-03-09T13:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T13:12:38.594-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can&#39;t wait</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;So tired of this gloomy weather and freezing rain,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Don&#39;t even&amp;nbsp;like that winter&#39;s hanging out awhile,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;What I&#39;m longing is a lovely day and clear skies,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8jxospYfzp8Bysoi23-NZ7UveQliez6eu7qDgpYYaCNDnMvi-c08lOaViDomVwh9b_c8_KWZTgzs2t8nLf5ygvLX9FgN2BC8kZNO-EZjg-1GWwFF8GJzqG6JvyY3HAH-54WqK2vPN8xs/s1600/van2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; q6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8jxospYfzp8Bysoi23-NZ7UveQliez6eu7qDgpYYaCNDnMvi-c08lOaViDomVwh9b_c8_KWZTgzs2t8nLf5ygvLX9FgN2BC8kZNO-EZjg-1GWwFF8GJzqG6JvyY3HAH-54WqK2vPN8xs/s400/van2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Get out there, get a&amp;nbsp;little basking in the sun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0JEXXHrU24niijelsRY8HBThu-8g9D-sLEs2LpPRq8L0KKuMPyZzIR2L17B4NV1P5smYGsVSMHuEPBu43Fgwe_WWVTvH7jNLhg9x9A4I_XcdeYKzQHrPdJWwTygs_g5Wpkxj5ym5MOo/s1600/van4.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; q6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ0JEXXHrU24niijelsRY8HBThu-8g9D-sLEs2LpPRq8L0KKuMPyZzIR2L17B4NV1P5smYGsVSMHuEPBu43Fgwe_WWVTvH7jNLhg9x9A4I_XcdeYKzQHrPdJWwTygs_g5Wpkxj5ym5MOo/s400/van4.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Then&amp;nbsp;if gets too much, there&#39;s always that mighty shade,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6DfzEmmy4tznC7yKE5kIYqggHQYi5AD3cM4ScVgtmiXZfeUHdJvieti_VjjOzgFtEQS17ReFE4nuGKU5kELBpZcz8datrEATkovaCOO42VYEVlEwUtDGpmwEY4bxsme1QU9nEU70k84/s1600/van3.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; q6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6DfzEmmy4tznC7yKE5kIYqggHQYi5AD3cM4ScVgtmiXZfeUHdJvieti_VjjOzgFtEQS17ReFE4nuGKU5kELBpZcz8datrEATkovaCOO42VYEVlEwUtDGpmwEY4bxsme1QU9nEU70k84/s400/van3.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;And sunset that promises another&amp;nbsp;bright day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghQAJSAA8glSJ01x14YOR-Anz8UMYA-EayMa02vQskYwkqHqhZZWicDe31qzswZUtqJyCvEhyphenhyphenFZmxjQragMTyxSherUT-EmhUSkQ1oersWnTbbS6alX89bjSHed5a_xJqgnJwQnjzO3Qo/s1600/van1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; q6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghQAJSAA8glSJ01x14YOR-Anz8UMYA-EayMa02vQskYwkqHqhZZWicDe31qzswZUtqJyCvEhyphenhyphenFZmxjQragMTyxSherUT-EmhUSkQ1oersWnTbbS6alX89bjSHed5a_xJqgnJwQnjzO3Qo/s400/van1.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Yeah, I just&amp;nbsp;can&#39;t wait for that summer time again.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/6488229344635071997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/6488229344635071997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/03/cant-wait.html' title='Can&#39;t wait'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8jxospYfzp8Bysoi23-NZ7UveQliez6eu7qDgpYYaCNDnMvi-c08lOaViDomVwh9b_c8_KWZTgzs2t8nLf5ygvLX9FgN2BC8kZNO-EZjg-1GWwFF8GJzqG6JvyY3HAH-54WqK2vPN8xs/s72-c/van2.jpg" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-1962797930484755177</id><published>2011-02-27T20:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T20:12:31.338-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What&#39;s going on here??</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I found this in my email.&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Are we ever in trouble in a few years from now.&lt;br /&gt;
The following questions were set in last year&#39;s GED examination &lt;br /&gt;
These are genuine answers (from 16 year olds)............and they WILL breed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. Name the four seasons?&lt;br /&gt;
A. Salt, pepper, mustard and vinegar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. Explain one of the processes by which water can be made safe to drink,&lt;br /&gt;
A. Flirtation makes water safe to drink because it removes large pollutants like grit, sand, dead sheep and canoeists. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. How is dew formed?&lt;br /&gt;
A. The sun shines down on the leaves and makes them perspire.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. What causes the tides in the oceans?&lt;br /&gt;
A. The tides are a fight between the earth and the moon. All water tends to flow towards the moon, because there is no water on the moon, and nature abhors a vacuum. I forget where the sun joins the fight.&lt;br /&gt;
Q. What guarantees may a mortgage company insist on?&lt;br /&gt;
A. If you are buying a house they will insist that you are well endowed.&lt;br /&gt;
Q. In a democratic society, how important are elections?&lt;br /&gt;
A. Very important. Sex can only happen when a male gets an election&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. What are steroids? &lt;br /&gt;
A. Things for keeping carpets still on the stairs (Shoot yourself now, there is little hope!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q.. What happens to your body as you age?&lt;br /&gt;
A. When you get old, so do your bowels and you get intercontinental.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. What happens to a boy when he reaches puberty?&lt;br /&gt;
A. He says goodbye to his boyhood and looks forward to his adultery. (So true!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. Name a major disease associated with cigarettes.&lt;br /&gt;
A. Premature death.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. What is artificial insemination?&lt;br /&gt;
A. When the farmer does it to the bull instead of the cow &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. How can you delay milk turning sour?&lt;br /&gt;
A. Keep it in the cow. (Simple, but brilliant!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. How are the main 20 parts of the body categorised? (e.g. The abdomen)&lt;br /&gt;
A. The body is consisted into 3 parts - the brainium, the borax and the abdominal cavity. &lt;br /&gt;
The brainium contains the brain, the borax contains the heart and lungs and &lt;br /&gt;
the abdominal cavity contains the five bowels: A, E, I,O,U.. ( WTF!) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. What is the fibula?&lt;br /&gt;
A. A small lie&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. What does &#39;varicose&#39; mean?&lt;br /&gt;
A. Nearby&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. What is the most common form of birth control? &lt;br /&gt;
A. Most people prevent contraception by wearing a condominium (That would work!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. Give the meaning of the term &#39;Caesarean section&#39;.&lt;br /&gt;
A. The caesarean section is a district in Rome.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. What is a seizure?&lt;br /&gt;
A. A Roman Emperor. (Julius Seizure, I came, I saw, I had a fit.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. What is a terminal illness? &lt;br /&gt;
A. When you are sick at the airport. (Irrefutable!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. Give an example of a fungus. What is a characteristic feature?&lt;br /&gt;
A. Mushrooms. They always grow in damp places and they look like umbrellas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. Use the word &#39;judicious&#39; in a sentence to show you understand its meaning.&lt;br /&gt;
A. Hands that judicious can be soft as your face. (OMG!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Q. What does the word &#39;benign&#39; mean?&lt;br /&gt;
A. Benign is what you will be after you be eight. (Brilliant!) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Ha ha ha....&lt;/em&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/1962797930484755177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/1962797930484755177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/02/whats-going-on-here.html' title='What&#39;s going on here??'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-4250185022149041977</id><published>2011-02-18T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T12:06:48.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Excuse me, just musing...</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m a Donna Karan fan, and so&amp;nbsp;I couldn&#39;t&amp;nbsp;stop dreaming of&amp;nbsp;wearing&amp;nbsp;one of these...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
From the Donna Karan 2011 Spring collection:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPzJJnwIke906Ux6srnC1QOuzJDIThAWhm6ar-OAAy9WdpNWPdEpiSA9JdyQNONVD9GF3MyoqqqnF33whl32ZHg76fsQCBY-jsrZqp3_Hq9KmvU43QCMGJCARRt8LfVjkU27akO9zUWA8/s1600/dkny.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;640&quot; j6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPzJJnwIke906Ux6srnC1QOuzJDIThAWhm6ar-OAAy9WdpNWPdEpiSA9JdyQNONVD9GF3MyoqqqnF33whl32ZHg76fsQCBY-jsrZqp3_Hq9KmvU43QCMGJCARRt8LfVjkU27akO9zUWA8/s640/dkny.jpg&quot; width=&quot;424&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCI9EDw_cisbTmizQPhlWDBOFhrch95JdMg9EQavUNhxBvQLhSsRxXAzB1gzE_nLJf9LzUNrEL4KOQbSMFEY91RA9WNiClMnAIIvJRRFCqoZrg2_L6dY6QHbW_4X1OQLLRK7E2zxyfwK4/s1600/dkny3.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;640&quot; j6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCI9EDw_cisbTmizQPhlWDBOFhrch95JdMg9EQavUNhxBvQLhSsRxXAzB1gzE_nLJf9LzUNrEL4KOQbSMFEY91RA9WNiClMnAIIvJRRFCqoZrg2_L6dY6QHbW_4X1OQLLRK7E2zxyfwK4/s640/dkny3.jpg&quot; width=&quot;424&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtObdFeuqWgbbK74ncQfAH4tEe668-eKmB9R3-MTzMqmkpSBQ3UVvUL4oyfGGiidUVx49C5l06puWulP1uy1eAvTMExZyjIsYolla_iMCEP28zwMewbsaGhnGz0u60tL7zKGDliq-FW7A/s1600/dkny2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;640&quot; j6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtObdFeuqWgbbK74ncQfAH4tEe668-eKmB9R3-MTzMqmkpSBQ3UVvUL4oyfGGiidUVx49C5l06puWulP1uy1eAvTMExZyjIsYolla_iMCEP28zwMewbsaGhnGz0u60tL7zKGDliq-FW7A/s640/dkny2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;424&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;And maybe this for a wedding dress﻿...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlFlUZf_hEdKY-tO3ayR0DAr9XAxr5CYrQnb8EzrlDDZa0aMGhCp-p4SiCwL3o2-GtIZ6CgvC2AwPy0feRcGod-YduhpwRIzvNkD34qY69VIjTHV5A4-RfAd94Nq_wchiTM23FySToj6Y/s1600/dkny4.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;640&quot; j6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlFlUZf_hEdKY-tO3ayR0DAr9XAxr5CYrQnb8EzrlDDZa0aMGhCp-p4SiCwL3o2-GtIZ6CgvC2AwPy0feRcGod-YduhpwRIzvNkD34qY69VIjTHV5A4-RfAd94Nq_wchiTM23FySToj6Y/s640/dkny4.jpg&quot; width=&quot;424&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;Or this...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTGz_YdGYdSAo3StcEwPfN9GBpTusT1KCv9hv6qdxdoHIcP9mGzwK1aRs1IyTpkoePg819HrlSrtcBpgEMIoMCMjFbqQ7U39yldIzVeJw-7s4vgac5ASio8x-26urK5A6KEGj2-vJHpfY/s1600/dkny5.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;640&quot; j6=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTGz_YdGYdSAo3StcEwPfN9GBpTusT1KCv9hv6qdxdoHIcP9mGzwK1aRs1IyTpkoePg819HrlSrtcBpgEMIoMCMjFbqQ7U39yldIzVeJw-7s4vgac5ASio8x-26urK5A6KEGj2-vJHpfY/s640/dkny5.jpg&quot; width=&quot;424&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Just wishful thinking...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.vogue.com/collections/fall-2011/donna-karan/review/&quot;&gt;http://www.vogue.com/collections/fall-2011/donna-karan/review/&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/4250185022149041977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/4250185022149041977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/02/excuse-me-just-musing.html' title='Excuse me, just musing...'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPzJJnwIke906Ux6srnC1QOuzJDIThAWhm6ar-OAAy9WdpNWPdEpiSA9JdyQNONVD9GF3MyoqqqnF33whl32ZHg76fsQCBY-jsrZqp3_Hq9KmvU43QCMGJCARRt8LfVjkU27akO9zUWA8/s72-c/dkny.jpg" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-5025977887591778764</id><published>2011-02-15T16:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T20:38:46.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My valentine&#39;s day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;It was a rare valentine&#39;s day that greeted me yesterday as&amp;nbsp;I received a letter from world vision&amp;nbsp;in the mail.&amp;nbsp; First I thought it was just a regular mail update from them.&amp;nbsp; But when I opened it, it was a sad news about one of my sponsored child.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;The letter had a very interesting introduction about my sponsored child, Dember.&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;There was an initial concern while I was reading the first few lines, and I thought it would end up saying that a tragic event happened - that we lost him.&amp;nbsp; I almost&amp;nbsp;wanted to stop&amp;nbsp;reading because I was scared to learn of the bad news.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I&#39;ve been with world vision since 2006, and I have two sponsored boys that I&#39;ve been supporting and following up through the years.&amp;nbsp;One in the Philippines, and one in Bangladesh. &amp;nbsp;With so much committment to provide sufficient education to these kids,&amp;nbsp; I become fond of them, and even&amp;nbsp;grown to love them.&amp;nbsp; Everytime world vision sends me their&amp;nbsp; daily development reports,&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve accustomed to that feeling of joy to see how much the boys&amp;nbsp;have improved by looking at their photos and reading their accomplishments.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s like&amp;nbsp;watching my baby sibling, or a member of&amp;nbsp;my&amp;nbsp;relative grow up.&amp;nbsp; And just like them,&amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve considered these two boys as part of my family too, though I haven&#39;t met them personally.&amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve been actually planning to set-up&amp;nbsp;a visit through world vision to see Dember on my forthcoming holidays to the Philippines.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;So&amp;nbsp;as I continue reading the letter, world vision says that Dember has left their care to find&amp;nbsp; a job.&amp;nbsp; I couldn&#39;t help holding back my&amp;nbsp;tears.&amp;nbsp; The boy is just about 15 years old, if my math is right...When world vision sent me his photo 5 years ago, he was just a little boy.&amp;nbsp;Then the last photo I received, he&#39;s like 5&#39;4 or more because he plays&amp;nbsp;basketball...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Not only was I sad that he left the care of world vision, but I was even sadder to the thought that life must be really hard down there for him to make a choice - he chose work over&amp;nbsp;school.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I feel&amp;nbsp;terribly sorry for him.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;How could a&amp;nbsp;15-year boy opted to work&amp;nbsp;and quit&amp;nbsp;school? &amp;nbsp;But then, there could be more&amp;nbsp;significant reasons why he choose what he chose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Finally on the letter, world vision says that they&#39;ve selected another child for me to sponsor. And they&#39;ve enclosed a photo of him.&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s another good-looking little boy from the Philippines.&amp;nbsp; They say that if I&#39;d like to change or to cancel, I could always call their office.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; But it&#39;s never my&amp;nbsp;trait to refuse a blessing - &lt;em&gt;&quot;To whom much is given, much is expected&quot;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; I just hope this time, this new sponsored child of mine will persevere, and reap the fruits of my blessings&amp;nbsp;later on in life.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://www.worldvision.ca/Pages/welcome.aspx' length='0'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/5025977887591778764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/5025977887591778764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-valentines-day.html' title='My valentine&#39;s day'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-4187337338874753491</id><published>2011-02-11T13:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T16:25:12.545-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Superstar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I love the Superstar song by the Carpenters.&amp;nbsp; Everytime I hear it, I&#39;ve always drawn to retrospecting.&amp;nbsp;I&#39;m not even an oldie-junkie person, but only this particular old song that always&amp;nbsp;brings me back&amp;nbsp;to some&amp;nbsp;good old memories.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;They say,&amp;nbsp;if a song&amp;nbsp;means so much&amp;nbsp;to you, that&#39;s because it&#39;s associated with something remarkable in your past.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Interesting.&amp;nbsp; But I couldn&#39;t remember an occasion that I could relate to this song.&amp;nbsp; All I know is, I get flashes of beautiful memories when&amp;nbsp;it plays on the radio -&amp;nbsp;to the point of&amp;nbsp;holding back a&amp;nbsp;teary-eye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;The heart&#39;s day&amp;nbsp;is buzzing in the air.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s&amp;nbsp;that time to&amp;nbsp;get mushy and romantic.&amp;nbsp; May you&amp;nbsp;get cozy&amp;nbsp;with your&amp;nbsp;Superstar...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&quot;&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;344&quot; src=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/embed/SJmmaIGiGBg?fs=1&quot; width=&quot;425&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Long ago and oh so far away&lt;br /&gt;
I fell in love with you before the second show&lt;br /&gt;
Your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear&lt;br /&gt;
But you&#39;re not really here&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s just the radio&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(*) Don&#39;t you remember you told me you loved me baby&lt;br /&gt;
You said you&#39;d be coming back this way again baby&lt;br /&gt;
Baby, baby, baby, baby, oh, baby, I love you I really do&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Loneliness is a such a sad affair&lt;br /&gt;
And I can hardly wait to be with you again&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What to say to make you come again&lt;br /&gt;
Come back to me again&lt;br /&gt;
And play your sad guitar&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Repeat (*) twice</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/4187337338874753491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/4187337338874753491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/02/superstar.html' title='Superstar'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/SJmmaIGiGBg/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-7037785105188765929</id><published>2011-01-24T12:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T12:27:56.481-08:00</updated><title type='text'>&quot;Thank you&quot;, anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m back to my normal mode after a hectic last quarter of 2010...There was my mom&#39;s visit, and then&amp;nbsp;I juggled&amp;nbsp;between work, school, being with her&amp;nbsp;and shopping for christmas gifts.&amp;nbsp; I couldn&#39;t believe that I spent 2 months&amp;nbsp;preparing&amp;nbsp;gifts for my family and some party of 10 families, uncles and aunts specifically. Because it dawned to&amp;nbsp;me that&amp;nbsp;for 5 years I&#39;d been&amp;nbsp;away from them, this was&amp;nbsp;my chance&amp;nbsp;to make up for all the missed birthdays, anniversaries, weddings and other special occasions. So coinciding&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;with my mom&#39;s homecoming&amp;nbsp;for christmas,&amp;nbsp;I generously sent as much gifts as I could for everyone I know...Surprisingly&amp;nbsp;to this day, I haven&#39;t heard from any of them.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;If there&#39;s anything I&#39;m grateful about learning here in canada, that&#39;s&amp;nbsp;discovering the real&amp;nbsp;use of this universal phrase - &#39;thank you&#39;.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve known this expression of gratitude since the age of conciousness, but I&#39;ve never realized its value&amp;nbsp;to this day. I remember before, I would&amp;nbsp;only say thank you if someone&amp;nbsp;gives me a gift or invites me to a party. Other than that, I&#39;m&amp;nbsp;always reserved to saying&amp;nbsp;thank-you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;But now, I&#39;ve learned that saying thank-you&amp;nbsp;isn&#39;t limited to these&amp;nbsp;occasions I&#39;ve mentioned.&amp;nbsp;It is also used to express politeness to someone who offers you a seat on the bus; opens the door for you; ask how you&#39;re doing;&amp;nbsp;provides you an important information; do you a favor; gives you a hand; and even for just calling you on the phone.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;It&#39;s so funny how I find&amp;nbsp;the locals strange during my first encounter with them and their&amp;nbsp;excessive use of&amp;nbsp;this colonial expression.&amp;nbsp;They&#39;ll say&amp;nbsp;&quot;thank you&quot; on just anything.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;When you&amp;nbsp;hold&amp;nbsp;the door for them;&amp;nbsp;when you let them&amp;nbsp; pass before you; when you pick-up an item and&amp;nbsp;hand it to them; when you give them directions...Just anything that you&#39;ll&amp;nbsp;do in their favor.&amp;nbsp; They will never miss to say &#39;thanks&#39;,&amp;nbsp;&#39;thank&amp;nbsp;you&#39; or&amp;nbsp;&#39;thank you very much.&#39; &amp;nbsp;Even the&amp;nbsp;reply &quot;you&#39;re welcome&quot; and &quot;sorry&quot;&amp;nbsp;are just all over the place.&amp;nbsp; At&amp;nbsp;first,&amp;nbsp;my&amp;nbsp; puzzling reaction is,&quot;&lt;em&gt;what&#39;s with these people that they keep&amp;nbsp; repeating&amp;nbsp;&quot;thank you&quot; and &quot;sorry?&quot;&lt;/em&gt;. Then later&amp;nbsp;I realize that this&amp;nbsp;is&amp;nbsp;a Canadian trait.&amp;nbsp; The culture that this country has somehow embraced and becomes an emblem of their identity.&amp;nbsp; And I tell you, it&#39;s viral.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Sometimes, I couldn&#39;t imagine how many times I say thank-you at work in a day.&amp;nbsp; Maybe&amp;nbsp;5 times to someone who ask how I&#39;m doing. 10 times, if I get 10 phone calls a day.&amp;nbsp; Another 5, if I send 5 emails (that&#39;s not including the email I reply to) And maybe, 10 more to every person/co-worker I deal with that day.&amp;nbsp;Come to think of it,&amp;nbsp;that&#39;s&amp;nbsp;an&amp;nbsp;enormous 30 thank-yous a day.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And where else in the world could we ever&amp;nbsp;express that much gratitude?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I&#39;ve never lived&amp;nbsp;anywhere&amp;nbsp;besides Canda and my&amp;nbsp;birthplace, Manila.&amp;nbsp;So I couldn&#39;t really&amp;nbsp;gauge the&amp;nbsp;tenacity of politeness they have in the south&amp;nbsp;or the far east. But apparently, during my frequent travels across the border, I&#39;ve&amp;nbsp;noticed that very few people have this kind of demeanor.&amp;nbsp; It seems that they are also reserved&amp;nbsp;in using this popular phrase thank-you.&amp;nbsp;I could actually count how many people&amp;nbsp;I&#39;ve ran&amp;nbsp;into&amp;nbsp;that&#39;s gracious enough&amp;nbsp;to express&amp;nbsp;gratitude.&amp;nbsp; Then later, I&amp;nbsp;perceive that they&#39;re actually&amp;nbsp;Canadians.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;So, if&amp;nbsp;this&amp;nbsp;holds true of the Canadian culture, how&amp;nbsp;did they&amp;nbsp;become a&amp;nbsp;prodigy of politeness? Is it the global location? Environment? Climate? Or simply, a matter of factness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I heard from&amp;nbsp;a news&amp;nbsp;about&amp;nbsp;a&amp;nbsp;study&amp;nbsp;of the rudest cities in America.&amp;nbsp; According to the report, Los Angeles was the rudest, seconded by New York; then followed by Philadelphia, Miami and Washington DC. &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.travelandleisure.com/articles/americas-rudest-cities/2&quot;&gt;(http://www.travelandleisure.com/articles/americas-rudest-cities/2&lt;/a&gt;)&amp;nbsp; And the reason&amp;nbsp;--&amp;nbsp;when people cram in a small area they&amp;nbsp;have a tendency&amp;nbsp;to be rude.&amp;nbsp; I&#39;ve almost agreed, because I&#39;ve experienced&amp;nbsp;that&amp;nbsp;in New York.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;So if it&#39;s not about territorial boundaries, then I believe population contributes to urban behavior.&amp;nbsp; Then we should be worried that the growing population&amp;nbsp;is endangering the use of thank-you.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;On another note, now I understand why the recipients of my gifts never acknowledge the giver.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I wouldn&#39;t be surprised if this universal expression, &#39;thank you&#39;, would one day be extinct, just like the diminishing number of elephants in Thailand.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/7037785105188765929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/7037785105188765929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/01/thank-you-anyone_24.html' title='&quot;Thank you&quot;, anyone?'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-3011489068929587184</id><published>2011-01-04T20:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T20:29:42.697-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gondola Ride: A way to end 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I haven&#39;t done anything special on New Year&#39;s day because I&#39;m still hang-up with my last&amp;nbsp;few weeks&amp;nbsp;experience before the end of 2010.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I dared myself with my friends&amp;nbsp;to a gondola ride in Banff National park.&amp;nbsp; It was the scariest&amp;nbsp;8 minutes lift of my life to one of the highest peak in the Rockies --The Sulphur Mountain.&amp;nbsp; From 698 meters (2,2982 ft) to 2,281 m (7,486 ft) summit terminal.&amp;nbsp; I thought I&amp;nbsp;conquered my fear of heights, but&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;underestimated the whole thing. I was frozen and trembling inside when I realized how high we were and&amp;nbsp;how deep the pit of the mountain terrain was.&amp;nbsp;Thankfully&amp;nbsp;my friend was entertaining. He told hilarious stories while we were on the small 4-seater carriage being lifted from and to the main terminal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m glad I did it though, or I&#39;d never capture this spectacular sight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVrHZvEVFKEjPtuNaS5syvjMKQBkodnv3d5bisnpYAkwsz_TSM0mjuxjo4wfKS4shf2E532o6OJZE5ChhruRnhtD7I19SbrUd-Wj2SRLKxZ7t6BTQoQMbb7zgMHdrFeNf9qGmFZA7GvRc/s1600/1.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; n4=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVrHZvEVFKEjPtuNaS5syvjMKQBkodnv3d5bisnpYAkwsz_TSM0mjuxjo4wfKS4shf2E532o6OJZE5ChhruRnhtD7I19SbrUd-Wj2SRLKxZ7t6BTQoQMbb7zgMHdrFeNf9qGmFZA7GvRc/s400/1.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvLE1CBpeBJKjmGdUv4Ra_TxczXs54DyoQUWRc8b6VmDFgloXkNRjUv7MtcUUI9FQLI48pSy5nJjcciXGp64UiFaGjwrQyUeT5G67P5S1EpguRmn1hxlkNggQDYrsr-FA_89iDLx6FiOw/s1600/2.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; n4=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvLE1CBpeBJKjmGdUv4Ra_TxczXs54DyoQUWRc8b6VmDFgloXkNRjUv7MtcUUI9FQLI48pSy5nJjcciXGp64UiFaGjwrQyUeT5G67P5S1EpguRmn1hxlkNggQDYrsr-FA_89iDLx6FiOw/s400/2.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Then a few days later, I found myself on another thrill ride.&amp;nbsp; The gondola peak to peak ride&amp;nbsp;from whistler mountain of 1,530 m (5,020 ft) to blackcomb mountains of 1,609 m (5,280 ft).&amp;nbsp; Not so high though compared to Sulphur mountain in Banff.&amp;nbsp; But this one&amp;nbsp;was 11 minutes ride, and approximately 45 minutes total cabin trip from peak to peak and back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRwqCi0jWNcf6-IMVLDQkUkbVPd7EE_LNK8tE0QbIRdPbr_LoQU2-hV4A7tAUfR2lkroxhImi8mnYfXWzGrIqITalM7CHaznlLg8m4xdBz1Y0VBk6ghYC1bWzxXoMAhgBqRwU2JVhOvbM/s1600/3.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; n4=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRwqCi0jWNcf6-IMVLDQkUkbVPd7EE_LNK8tE0QbIRdPbr_LoQU2-hV4A7tAUfR2lkroxhImi8mnYfXWzGrIqITalM7CHaznlLg8m4xdBz1Y0VBk6ghYC1bWzxXoMAhgBqRwU2JVhOvbM/s400/3.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;This didn&#39;t scare me to death because the&amp;nbsp;gondola was huge and had a capacity&amp;nbsp;of 7-20 people depending on the kind of cabin.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And who would be afraid of the ride if you see the skiers below racing through the snowy slopes of the mountain.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I couldn&#39;t believe that&amp;nbsp;I didn&#39;t feel the slightest butterfly in my stomach while on&amp;nbsp;board the gondola. Because the&amp;nbsp;whole space&amp;nbsp;was full and dynamic, that I couldn&#39;t&amp;nbsp;find time to feel my fear.&amp;nbsp;Specially, when we watched the tiny creatures gliding and sprinting on the ice from above.&amp;nbsp; They looked like little ants spawling everywhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;On our way back, our cabin was jammed-pack with&amp;nbsp;skiers with all their heavy gears on.&amp;nbsp; Probably&amp;nbsp;going back to the station after a ski day.&amp;nbsp;So all my attention was on them that I realized our gondola trip was over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrkl9WvSjZz52tSlY8rkciPvstIE8eZ7iccLQoWOC1Hwk7oFGs9Qw0uzT3zfXLCyUYJnvVnVHzVkH3_WICbl0zucikqsJFEtLkfqm9-TvoL9xnw3V2kRpbfxJLhhT6q2Mlv4TuNCnWKxc/s1600/1.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; n4=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrkl9WvSjZz52tSlY8rkciPvstIE8eZ7iccLQoWOC1Hwk7oFGs9Qw0uzT3zfXLCyUYJnvVnVHzVkH3_WICbl0zucikqsJFEtLkfqm9-TvoL9xnw3V2kRpbfxJLhhT6q2Mlv4TuNCnWKxc/s400/1.JPG&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m still awed looking at the photos of our trip to Banff and Whistler.&amp;nbsp; It&#39;s one collective adventure that&#39;s worthy of a travelogue kit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: justify;&quot;&gt;Now, I wonder what&amp;nbsp; will be my next adventure before this year ends.&amp;nbsp; Well, it&#39;s too early to tell. But I have plans in mind...&lt;em&gt;Nope, not bungee jumping!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/3011489068929587184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/3011489068929587184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2011/01/way-to-end-2010.html' title='Gondola Ride: A way to end 2010'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVrHZvEVFKEjPtuNaS5syvjMKQBkodnv3d5bisnpYAkwsz_TSM0mjuxjo4wfKS4shf2E532o6OJZE5ChhruRnhtD7I19SbrUd-Wj2SRLKxZ7t6BTQoQMbb7zgMHdrFeNf9qGmFZA7GvRc/s72-c/1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-7285466935870463024</id><published>2010-12-27T00:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T12:46:56.178-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Marcus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;&quot;&gt;I&amp;nbsp;met this&amp;nbsp;awesome guy at Banff, Alberta.&amp;nbsp; He used to work as companion of the blind.&amp;nbsp; But because he&#39;s super friendly,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;he&#39;s been&amp;nbsp;promoted&amp;nbsp;as the&amp;nbsp;Director of Pet Relations.&amp;nbsp; And so,&amp;nbsp; Marcus has his own post at the Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IhwCRfI7IUmNFKr-mXYFLqCL-gH3gQnMlgxMqsn4w5w9pxQje9HJjwPbT6BuTVvI1cmJaOl4g5TiP75-kixxH4pFcRp19AuVG2dqfs_FrkyVfmT5oIKtNNH8OxY9iLYjxd5zppMHJBY/s1600/banff+122.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; n4=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IhwCRfI7IUmNFKr-mXYFLqCL-gH3gQnMlgxMqsn4w5w9pxQje9HJjwPbT6BuTVvI1cmJaOl4g5TiP75-kixxH4pFcRp19AuVG2dqfs_FrkyVfmT5oIKtNNH8OxY9iLYjxd5zppMHJBY/s320/banff+122.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfSei6fpeyBoyOb0YDmG_-KxiQlad6pGe9FwIDDxa3Lu46U987YqhVJcfRxpFw43mbjArMonEEQs2lxBzJUgom9puPF9AxDq3iG1UOIJoIyGWTROtmQ9NKH24Z-DjTWQj8o9szDq-LYUw/s1600/banff+117.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; n4=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfSei6fpeyBoyOb0YDmG_-KxiQlad6pGe9FwIDDxa3Lu46U987YqhVJcfRxpFw43mbjArMonEEQs2lxBzJUgom9puPF9AxDq3iG1UOIJoIyGWTROtmQ9NKH24Z-DjTWQj8o9szDq-LYUw/s400/banff+117.JPG&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHFYcpj9UVcvNhuosxXoc3jXOLzsAtJJ7Nf4hT9c_32SKzVHd2lyFLdHeiGGEG7M6_Whzjaj8ZqaSoF_wC6uFx64sdKrL9JslvjkYnIuAF9LsyyXkOLx4PrulyRg_LnaoyyVic5KBzxU/s1600/sam3.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; n4=&quot;true&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHFYcpj9UVcvNhuosxXoc3jXOLzsAtJJ7Nf4hT9c_32SKzVHd2lyFLdHeiGGEG7M6_Whzjaj8ZqaSoF_wC6uFx64sdKrL9JslvjkYnIuAF9LsyyXkOLx4PrulyRg_LnaoyyVic5KBzxU/s320/sam3.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If he can make a difference, so can we&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/7285466935870463024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/7285466935870463024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2010/12/marcus.html' title='Marcus'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IhwCRfI7IUmNFKr-mXYFLqCL-gH3gQnMlgxMqsn4w5w9pxQje9HJjwPbT6BuTVvI1cmJaOl4g5TiP75-kixxH4pFcRp19AuVG2dqfs_FrkyVfmT5oIKtNNH8OxY9iLYjxd5zppMHJBY/s72-c/banff+122.JPG" height="72" width="72"/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-793773019697312447.post-8986506835223319082</id><published>2010-12-14T13:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T09:28:41.741-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I jumpstart a car with my hands!</title><content type='html'>A week ago, I was invited by a friend to watch a christmas singing tree&amp;nbsp;show at&amp;nbsp; a local church.&amp;nbsp; Before that night, we went shopping in the morning. It was just me, my girlfriend and her little boy.&amp;nbsp; We used the old car that they just purchased.&amp;nbsp; It was a 19-something model ford mercury.&amp;nbsp; Since she&#39;s a novice driver, and her husband was at work that morning,&amp;nbsp; I was tasked to drive the car.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
First, I was hesistant because they told me that the car broke down one time while on the road and that they had to call BCAA (British Columbia Autmobile Association) to jumpstart their car.&amp;nbsp; Then later, they found out that the car&#39;s battery was old and weak.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s the very&amp;nbsp;reason why I was having second thoughts driving the car.&amp;nbsp; But since my friend assured me that she&#39;s a BCAA member as well, I finally gave-in and trust my technical ability to deal with it -&amp;nbsp; If and when it broke down&amp;nbsp;on me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So before leaving, I warmed-up the car for a few minutes.&amp;nbsp;On start, I didn&#39;t have&amp;nbsp;problem with the ignition.&amp;nbsp; The engine&amp;nbsp;started at once. But when&amp;nbsp;we were all settled down, buckled up and ready to go, the engine wouldn&#39;t start.&amp;nbsp; I tried, and tried four times, and still wouldn&#39;t start.&amp;nbsp;We looked at each other. Then before&amp;nbsp;I almost gave up, I instinctively jumped&amp;nbsp;off the car&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;opened the hood.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp; was positive,&amp;nbsp;it was the battery.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&amp;nbsp;clamped&amp;nbsp;my&amp;nbsp;fingers on the posts of the two terminals and tried winding it.&amp;nbsp; It looked tight and secure.&amp;nbsp; So I tried slightly&amp;nbsp;tipping the battery off&amp;nbsp;and clinching back&amp;nbsp;to place (just imagining how my dad would do it&amp;nbsp;in the same situation)&amp;nbsp;After pretending that I knew what I was doing, &amp;nbsp;I went back the driver&#39;s seat, and re-started the engine.&amp;nbsp; Wah-lah! &amp;nbsp;It worked!&amp;nbsp; I was completely stunned. My friend was also amazed and&amp;nbsp;said, she didn&#39;t have a clue whatever&amp;nbsp;I did that make it work.&amp;nbsp; And for the whole morning we went shopping, the car was smooth running till we&amp;nbsp;got to the show.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But later that night after the two-hour show, in the frigid parking spot, the car weaselled out on us again.&amp;nbsp;Being successful with my&amp;nbsp;first endeavor in the morning, &amp;nbsp;I did exactly the same thing, and once again, it worked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I really don&#39;t know if it&#39;s just&amp;nbsp;coincidence or real science.&amp;nbsp; But I&#39;m puzzled myself.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So here&#39;s what I gathered:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&quot;...When we scuff our shoes upon a rug on a dry winter day, our bodies typically charge up to a potential of several thousand volts with respect to the ground. In physics this is a well-known fact, and is easily verified by meter measurements. Touch a grounded object, and a spark will leap between the object and your fingertip. This kind of electric spark can only exist when a high voltage is present. The tiniest spark requires about 500 volts. Big, nasty, painful sparks require lots more voltage, up to several thousand volts. But even when no sparks are jumping, there is still a high voltage between your charged body and the ground, and your charged body is surrounded with an invisible electric field...&quot;&amp;nbsp;- &lt;a href=&quot;http://amasci.com/emotor/voltmeas.html&quot;&gt;http://amasci.com/emotor/voltmeas.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;An Amazing Fact&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0in 0in 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;module moduleText color1&quot; id=&quot;mod_1279432&quot;&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;txtd&quot; id=&quot;txtd_1279432&quot; style=&quot;word-wrap: break-word;&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;According to the scientists, in 15 per cent fat in a human body, it is possible to generate 11,000 watts of electricity per hour. In fact, different yielded energy levels are 81 watts from a sleeping person, 128 watts from a soldier standing at ease, 163 watts from a walking person, 407 watts from a briskly walking person, 1,048 watts from a long-distance runner, and 1,630 watts from a sprinter.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://hubpages.com/hub/Generating-Electricity-From-Body-Heat&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;http://hubpages.com/hub/Generating-Electricity-From-Body-Heat&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a class=&quot;image&quot; href=&quot;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:CrocodileClamponBattery.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; class=&quot;thumbimage&quot; height=&quot;151&quot; src=&quot;http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3b/CrocodileClamponBattery.jpg/220px-CrocodileClamponBattery.jpg&quot; width=&quot;220&quot; /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So next time your car battery dies down on you, try using your&amp;nbsp;hands to jumpstart...But scuff your shoes first on a rug.&amp;nbsp; Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;iframe align=&quot;left&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; marginheight=&quot;0&quot; marginwidth=&quot;0&quot; scrolling=&quot;no&quot; src=&quot;http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=metaphorsofmi-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B001FA1O0O&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr&quot; style=&quot;align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;iframe align=&quot;left&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; marginheight=&quot;0&quot; marginwidth=&quot;0&quot; scrolling=&quot;no&quot; src=&quot;http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?t=metaphorsofmi-20&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;p=8&amp;amp;l=bpl&amp;amp;asins=B002Y27P3M&amp;amp;fc1=000000&amp;amp;IS2=1&amp;amp;lt1=_blank&amp;amp;m=amazon&amp;amp;lc1=0000FF&amp;amp;bc1=000000&amp;amp;bg1=FFFFFF&amp;amp;f=ifr&quot; style=&quot;align: left; height: 245px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 5px; width: 131px;&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/8986506835223319082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/793773019697312447/posts/default/8986506835223319082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://metaphorsofmimay.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-jumpstart-car-with-my-hands.html' title='I jumpstart a car with my hands!'/><author><name>Myla</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05023365229579830596</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>