<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YNQXY4cSp7ImA9WhRRFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8797543622419492849</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:13:10.839-08:00</updated><category term="Seasons change" /><category term="love" /><category term="Ramblings" /><title>Antoine</title><subtitle type="html">Soul expressions</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/" /><author><name>Antoine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/nWrK" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/nwrk" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4ERncyeyp7ImA9WxBVEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8797543622419492849.post-1556320710694511226</id><published>2009-01-28T13:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T14:28:27.993-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-15T14:28:27.993-08:00</app:edited><title>STRESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/feeds/1556320710694511226/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8797543622419492849&amp;postID=1556320710694511226" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/1556320710694511226?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/1556320710694511226?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~3/e7MtpjRHZyw/stress.html" title="STRESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" /><author><name>Antoine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">Sometimes I wonder why things just aint the same anymore. Why is it that back in the day, people would leave each other for months, even years on end and still be connected? What was the secret then that we lost along the way? Often I think that the age of computers ushered in an era of convenience that left us all disillusioned about the relationships we have with other people. Before, it was 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HDGkJqizX1CVre_lYSBVQe9jSzk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HDGkJqizX1CVre_lYSBVQe9jSzk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HDGkJqizX1CVre_lYSBVQe9jSzk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HDGkJqizX1CVre_lYSBVQe9jSzk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~4/e7MtpjRHZyw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/2009/01/stress.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04NQ3kyfip7ImA9WxVRFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8797543622419492849.post-7672170456033628042</id><published>2009-01-24T13:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T14:06:32.796-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-22T14:06:32.796-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ramblings" /><title>So what the funk!!!!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/feeds/7672170456033628042/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8797543622419492849&amp;postID=7672170456033628042" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/7672170456033628042?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/7672170456033628042?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~3/8klrfGnMjgU/so-what-funk.html" title="So what the funk!!!!" /><author><name>Antoine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">The title seems to suggest that there is something terribly wrong with me right about now. The truth is that there is. I will elaborate in a minute. I intend, for purposes of comprehension, not to delve in pompous vocabulary and strange expressions. Now that we have got the air clear, I think we can continue.I think that there seems to be something inherently wrong with me. Either that, or some 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GZWEvkjPuoULozBHREwGMXwY2VM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GZWEvkjPuoULozBHREwGMXwY2VM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GZWEvkjPuoULozBHREwGMXwY2VM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GZWEvkjPuoULozBHREwGMXwY2VM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~4/8klrfGnMjgU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-what-funk.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MMRX85fSp7ImA9WxBVEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8797543622419492849.post-1771371017238804710</id><published>2009-01-22T13:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T14:04:44.125-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-15T14:04:44.125-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ramblings" /><title>Being 'corporate': Much ado about nothing</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/feeds/1771371017238804710/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8797543622419492849&amp;postID=1771371017238804710" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/1771371017238804710?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/1771371017238804710?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~3/68-I4mDHBQ4/being-corporate-much-ado-about-nothing.html" title="Being 'corporate': Much ado about nothing" /><author><name>Antoine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">What does it mean to be 'corporate'? There are a growing number of individuals who are subscribing to this category of the elite. This trend actually reminds me of that phenomenon we studied about in primary school; rural-urban migration. All of a sudden, everyone is striving for this exclusive social club of wannabes who have the latest gadgets, live in mini estates and
almost drive their own 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nDDIsBykIGkoRXYOv9BwvNeVKYA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nDDIsBykIGkoRXYOv9BwvNeVKYA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nDDIsBykIGkoRXYOv9BwvNeVKYA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nDDIsBykIGkoRXYOv9BwvNeVKYA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~4/68-I4mDHBQ4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/2009/01/being-corporate-much-ado-about-nothing.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYGQn46fCp7ImA9WxZbEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8797543622419492849.post-8242684262059606995</id><published>2008-04-13T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T10:35:23.014-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-04-13T10:35:23.014-07:00</app:edited><title>Irritated!!!!!!!!!!!!</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/feeds/8242684262059606995/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8797543622419492849&amp;postID=8242684262059606995" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/8242684262059606995?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/8242684262059606995?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~3/zaTdNS9YzGk/irritated.html" title="Irritated!!!!!!!!!!!!" /><author><name>Antoine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">What is it about me that makes people think they can step on my toes and expect me to do nothing at all. I am sick and tired of such individuals who assume I am just another rug for them to rub off the mud.  Who do they think they are?!I may seem a little docile but I am not what I let people think I am. I get really angry with these individuals who make it a point to take advantage of 'weaker' 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8BCFnV9vJ1Abcu8v1XWjzLRZTAU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8BCFnV9vJ1Abcu8v1XWjzLRZTAU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8BCFnV9vJ1Abcu8v1XWjzLRZTAU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8BCFnV9vJ1Abcu8v1XWjzLRZTAU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~4/zaTdNS9YzGk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/2008/04/irritated.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ANQ3o9cCp7ImA9WxBVEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8797543622419492849.post-5960640121467053128</id><published>2008-04-08T01:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T14:09:52.468-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-15T14:09:52.468-08:00</app:edited><title>Growing pains</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/feeds/5960640121467053128/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8797543622419492849&amp;postID=5960640121467053128" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/5960640121467053128?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/5960640121467053128?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~3/hJ4jq0RdELI/growing-pains.html" title="Growing pains" /><author><name>Antoine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Well, here I am again, whining about how life should be fair and all that crap. Most of the time people don't take us seriously because they feel we are young. What do we know anyway? A man is not a man until he has felt the touch of a woman. Crap. I have never heard a bigger load of crap than that. So what if  haven't? Does it make make me any more of a man if I am a virgin? I believe that the 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MoCVc2z1nYlky9xyGnSwPOiM_qA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MoCVc2z1nYlky9xyGnSwPOiM_qA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MoCVc2z1nYlky9xyGnSwPOiM_qA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MoCVc2z1nYlky9xyGnSwPOiM_qA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~4/hJ4jq0RdELI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/2008/04/growing-pains.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ANQ3ozeSp7ImA9WxBVEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8797543622419492849.post-1174450957392890850</id><published>2008-03-27T14:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T14:09:52.481-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-15T14:09:52.481-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Seasons change" /><title>Flowers in the rain</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/feeds/1174450957392890850/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8797543622419492849&amp;postID=1174450957392890850" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/1174450957392890850?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/1174450957392890850?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~3/hIBrDmI6O8M/flowers-in-rain.html" title="Flowers in the rain" /><author><name>Antoine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Here I am seated at my computer (I wish) looking all miserable and all. The rain has just stopped and I am sudddenly wishing it hadn't. Strange, huh? Maybe I like the rain and maybe I belong to a small clique of individuals who believe it is the best thing ever to happen to man. Then I think of flowers. Would they survive the onslaught of those heavenly drops on their fragile frames?Why flowers, 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ufPB-iT5jtQ0gS4jisuGTdPTJLA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ufPB-iT5jtQ0gS4jisuGTdPTJLA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ufPB-iT5jtQ0gS4jisuGTdPTJLA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ufPB-iT5jtQ0gS4jisuGTdPTJLA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~4/hIBrDmI6O8M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/2008/03/flowers-in-rain.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0EBQ3o_fip7ImA9WxBVEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8797543622419492849.post-1237913799764778328</id><published>2008-02-22T15:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T14:07:32.446-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-15T14:07:32.446-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><title>Another day, another life</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/feeds/1237913799764778328/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8797543622419492849&amp;postID=1237913799764778328" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/1237913799764778328?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/1237913799764778328?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~3/1rmyG7F_kWo/another-day-another-life.html" title="Another day, another life" /><author><name>Antoine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">OK, enough with the love vibes and all. Friday was been a day full of stress and good things. I had the craziest day of my life today. First of all, we couldn’t get on the stage for rehearsals because some guys had left behind the sets from a show that happened the day before. Did I mention that it was Valentine’s the day before? Stress!!! It was so bad that we finished doing our lights twenty 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O1rD_DxapAiCcj0ELB4CpYHxBL0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O1rD_DxapAiCcj0ELB4CpYHxBL0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O1rD_DxapAiCcj0ELB4CpYHxBL0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O1rD_DxapAiCcj0ELB4CpYHxBL0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~4/1rmyG7F_kWo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/2008/02/another-day-another-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04MQH0yfCp7ImA9WxZQFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8797543622419492849.post-7630432959744441107</id><published>2008-02-21T10:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T10:53:01.394-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-02-21T10:53:01.394-08:00</app:edited><title>Musings</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/feeds/7630432959744441107/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8797543622419492849&amp;postID=7630432959744441107" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/7630432959744441107?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8797543622419492849/posts/default/7630432959744441107?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~3/9txwtFdQ3M8/musings.html" title="Musings" /><author><name>Antoine</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">Why is it that everytime we find ourselves in a situation that is too good to be true, we become skeptical? We deny what we feel in a hope that if indeed we block out these feelings we will get back to a sense of normalcy. How foolish we can be at times. To deny what we feel is to deny ourselves, to say that we are not what we think. Cogito, ergo sum! Another man, wrote, Je pense donc je suis! 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SDl34i8jspF8SqYPJb1JKS5ZmFs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SDl34i8jspF8SqYPJb1JKS5ZmFs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SDl34i8jspF8SqYPJb1JKS5ZmFs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SDl34i8jspF8SqYPJb1JKS5ZmFs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/nWrK/~4/9txwtFdQ3M8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://antoinethedreamweaver.blogspot.com/2008/02/musings.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

