<?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;DUYCRXY-fip7ImA9WhRaFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701</id><updated>2012-02-16T23:46:04.856+08:00</updated><category term="decathlon" /><category term="traffic woes" /><category term="reflection" /><category term="drug addiction" /><category term="trust" /><category term="Tamagotchi" /><category term="lessons" /><category term="Hobbies" /><category term="beach" /><category term="relationships" /><category term="Cabal Online" /><category term="goodbyes" /><category term="light pollution" /><category term="Right to Starlight" /><category term="virtual pet" /><category term="Friendships" /><category term="Work" /><category term="blues" /><category term="training" /><category term="special" /><category term="Vocation" /><category term="Holidays" /><category term="Musings" /><category term="psychosomatic" /><category term="vacation" /><category term="Christmas" /><category term="Road rage" /><category term="culture" /><category term="animal welfare" /><category term="games" /><category term="goals" /><category term="Experience" /><category term="dog" /><category term="rejection" /><category term="Valentines" /><category term="Filipino" /><category term="Disease" /><category term="disappointment" /><category term="leisure" /><category term="priesthood" /><category term="friendship" /><category term="animal cruelty" /><category term="dreams" /><category term="loans" /><category term="opinion" /><category term="things to do" /><category term="career" /><category term="habits" /><category term="debts" /><category term="health" /><category term="love" /><category term="breaks" /><category term="money" /><title>Life 101</title><subtitle type="html">This used to be a space for Helpful stuff. I changed my mind, it's gonna be where I write whatever I want.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>68</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/vmFYo" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/vmfyo" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EESXs-eSp7ImA9WhZXGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-3255868334576120731</id><published>2011-05-08T06:00:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T06:00:08.551+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-08T06:00:08.551+08:00</app:edited><title>Rural Mystique</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B0l_HpOs0L6sqv5mxIlR1JiMXD8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B0l_HpOs0L6sqv5mxIlR1JiMXD8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B0l_HpOs0L6sqv5mxIlR1JiMXD8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B0l_HpOs0L6sqv5mxIlR1JiMXD8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/aargghh/BloggerPictures?authkey=Gv1sRgCJKo6sn7jO_SygE#5604097409936310338'&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/TcXA5w3wwEI/AAAAAAAAAEE/3fuZSdY-gmY/s288/1.jpg' border='0' width='400' height='400' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting on driftwood at a deserted beach in Luna, La Union. And I remember why I dream of leaving the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so peaceful and simple here. The beach is great. The food is delicious! Would you believe I ate 3 platefuls for dinner today? I normally just have a cup of rice but I can't seem to stop eating and I don't feel so full. Maybe its the air or maybe it just is: better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I'm only here for vacation. I can't imagine how life is like for those who actually live here and I'm probably just idealising a difficult life, but you can't blame me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like far and solitary places. If I could live and work in one, I'll take it. I want to be where I can be alone; where I can have space for myself and never have to pretend and get along with anyone. It's not very realistic but I can dream right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit here listening to the waves, I can feel the wind ruffling my hair and bringing with it the smell of sea. I feel like anything is possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-3255868334576120731?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/UpNUrlz5aH0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/3255868334576120731/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2011/05/rural-mystique.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/3255868334576120731?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/3255868334576120731?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/UpNUrlz5aH0/rural-mystique.html" title="Rural Mystique" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/TcXA5w3wwEI/AAAAAAAAAEE/3fuZSdY-gmY/s72-c/1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2011/05/rural-mystique.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYGQ3c9fSp7ImA9Wx9UFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-6677689708306689080</id><published>2011-02-11T22:22:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T22:22:02.965+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-11T22:22:02.965+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Valentines" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friendship" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="special" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blues" /><title>St. Valentines Day</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xsIdrxzGSjA_FAj73Y38Iktulo0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xsIdrxzGSjA_FAj73Y38Iktulo0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xsIdrxzGSjA_FAj73Y38Iktulo0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xsIdrxzGSjA_FAj73Y38Iktulo0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://onevainmale.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/b9aaa6c8-ea49-4ad6-b732-c7f852f472a31.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://onevainmale.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/b9aaa6c8-ea49-4ad6-b732-c7f852f472a31.jpg' border='0' width='190' height='265' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Valentine's and I feel obligated to tell whoever is interested what I think. It doesn't really matter if anyone actually reads my shit but it's MINE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Valentine's day... This day has always irritated me. I have never really seen the need to designate a specific day for Love. Shouldn't we love everyday? Maybe people have grown so jaded that we feel compelled to assign a day for love and lovers... Maybe relationships have been too obligatory or boring that we felt the need to have a special day to feel, well, 'special'. I really have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing is certain though, more children will be born approximately 9 months from V-day. Of course, we can also consider the increase in revenues for companies that sell contraceptives and the motel industry. Not to mention, restaurants, flower sales, and a dozen other businesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This day also reminds me of might have beens. New loves, first loves, first kisses, sweet nothings, hugs, laughter... Broken promises, lost friends, former lovers, broken relationships...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is of course the main reason why we even have this day to celebrate (commemorate?): relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who have someone to share the day with: make it special. Be extra sweet. Go out and spare no expense. It's only one day after all. Wake her up with breakfast in bed. Prepare an extra special "baon" for him. Send roses, sms sweet nonesense and please, no nagging! And, at the end of the day, relax and just spend the time together. Maybe have a little ritual to strengthen your bond, or maybe just spend the time you never get to have together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who haven't found the "one", do not despair. Alone does not have to mean lonely. Celebrate this day by making yourself feel special! Have a massage! Go out with other friends and party all night! Catch up to old friends. Make new friends! Spend some me time doing what you love doing! After all, the key to finding love is to love yourself first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bottom line, enjoy the day and make it special. And always remember: No matter what faith you follow or which god you call, you are loved, you're probably just too thick to notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-6677689708306689080?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/YuquHgQlNAY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/6677689708306689080/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2011/02/st-valentines-day.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/6677689708306689080?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/6677689708306689080?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/YuquHgQlNAY/st-valentines-day.html" title="St. Valentines Day" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2011/02/st-valentines-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIBRHo7fCp7ImA9Wx9WF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-8974265743838174608</id><published>2011-01-23T10:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T10:42:35.404+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-01-23T10:42:35.404+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="reflection" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="psychosomatic" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="goals" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="health" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Disease" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="career" /><title>Purpose</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oK_RK8cYTuXM9IxLXrAGCTM6_Y8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oK_RK8cYTuXM9IxLXrAGCTM6_Y8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oK_RK8cYTuXM9IxLXrAGCTM6_Y8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oK_RK8cYTuXM9IxLXrAGCTM6_Y8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://onevainmale.files.wordpress.com/2011/01/c2c877f4-dcad-4961-ae44-fffcc70dd8e60.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://onevainmale.files.wordpress.com/2011/01/c2c877f4-dcad-4961-ae44-fffcc70dd8e60.jpg' border='0' width='187' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been getting sick more often lately. So often that I am afraid it might just cost me my job. The weird part is it coincides with my feeling that I don't like this job anymore. It also fits my pattern: between the months of November and January, I tend to change jobs. It's not good. I'm not getting younger chronologically and I might soon run out of options.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact of the matter is: I am willing myself sick-at least subconsciously. This stupid search for meaning is costing me. I haven't figured out what I really want. Sometimes being able to do many things can cause problems. Having too many choices and options makes people complacent. Not good. Being talented can be a burden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it is also connected to being able to control myself. People with a purpose have the discipline to keep going in the same path even when tempted. Focus comes with discipline and self control. Sadly, I don't think I have much discipline. I can't even stop smoking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know the answer. I'm still trying to figure myself out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-8974265743838174608?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/T_T7OhTW-Ks" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/8974265743838174608/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2011/01/purpose.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/8974265743838174608?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/8974265743838174608?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/T_T7OhTW-Ks/purpose.html" title="Purpose" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2011/01/purpose.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cNRHs6fip7ImA9Wx9QF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-1636520797860235452</id><published>2010-12-31T01:11:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-31T01:11:35.516+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-31T01:11:35.516+08:00</app:edited><title>New year, new (re)solutions.</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GDnxtn0HgDm_XytVEmz5whDoIHg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GDnxtn0HgDm_XytVEmz5whDoIHg/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/GDnxtn0HgDm_XytVEmz5whDoIHg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GDnxtn0HgDm_XytVEmz5whDoIHg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/1356.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/30/s_1356.jpg' border='0' width='186' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wondering where the custom of new years resolutions come from. Why do we find the need to make new promises we may not even keep? At best, we can only keep them for a few days... Probably because we want to start a new year right or at least better than the previous year.&lt;br /&gt;Do I have any resolutions? I'm still thinking about it. I'm one of those people who try to keep promises even if it costs me extra (figuratively and literally). I haven't made any resolutions for several years and i'm not sure i'm making any this year. What about you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-1636520797860235452?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/poMqbXPhwnY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/1636520797860235452/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/12/new-year-new-resolutions.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/1636520797860235452?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/1636520797860235452?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/poMqbXPhwnY/new-year-new-resolutions.html" title="New year, new (re)solutions." /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/12/new-year-new-resolutions.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMASHk6fyp7ImA9Wx9QEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-678445401263621353</id><published>2010-12-24T17:54:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T17:54:09.717+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-24T17:54:09.717+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="reflection" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Christmas" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Holidays" /><title>Christmas Eve</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WRrX5VppHj7dbIqGmHu8IBlrTvU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WRrX5VppHj7dbIqGmHu8IBlrTvU/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/WRrX5VppHj7dbIqGmHu8IBlrTvU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WRrX5VppHj7dbIqGmHu8IBlrTvU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/304.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/24/s_304.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Christmas Eve and everyone is eager. Many are now on vacation and kids are out of school. Some are trying to catch up on last minute shopping or frustratingly trying to work they're way through a massive exodus to the provinces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Christmas for many of us: a stressful, exhausting, and expense-filled holiday where people are expected to be nice, where we are forced to forgive and give even though we don't feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, we may have forgotten what this day means. No, I will not even try to give an answer because I do not have it. I just want people to think as well as enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas everyone!!! May you celebrate this day and remember. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Eulogio%20Rodriguez%20Jr%20Ave,Quezon%20City,Philippines%4014.610423%2C121.075927&amp;z=10'&gt;Eulogio Rodriguez Jr Ave,Quezon City,Philippines&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-678445401263621353?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/NHkaL2V_gPk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/678445401263621353/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-eve.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/678445401263621353?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/678445401263621353?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/NHkaL2V_gPk/christmas-eve.html" title="Christmas Eve" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-eve.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4ARXk6eyp7ImA9Wx9RGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-5662989558920204629</id><published>2010-12-21T21:09:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T21:09:04.713+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-21T21:09:04.713+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="breaks" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vacation" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blues" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Holidays" /><title>Holiday blues</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GGZwTrFTYP6SJHlNrP4RukFCdz4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GGZwTrFTYP6SJHlNrP4RukFCdz4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GGZwTrFTYP6SJHlNrP4RukFCdz4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GGZwTrFTYP6SJHlNrP4RukFCdz4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/21/557.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://blogpress.w18.net/photos/10/12/21/s_557.jpg' border='0' width='210' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...so this is Christmas, and what have you done. Another year over, a new one just begun..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so goes John Lennon's classic song. Every year, during the holidays, I get this weird fuzzy feeling. And based on all the social network statuses I've seen for some years, this is a fairly common feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The holidays are supposed to be time spent with loved ones: Family, friends, lovers, frenemies, and whatnot. Unfortunately, we don't all get that coveted holiday break. Some of us have even more work during the holidays (those in the BPO industry, for example). I worked maybe 10 years in various jobs which did not get such breaks but this year is different. I finally get that holiday break I have always wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem now is should I go somewhere or just stay home and send the vacation money to mother? Or should I go somewhere different? Maybe spend a week somewhere south where no one knows me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Citywalk%201,Quezon%20City,Philippines%4014.608490%2C121.080340&amp;z=10'&gt;Citywalk 1,Quezon City,Philippines&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-5662989558920204629?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/B_QS8NVqVuI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/5662989558920204629/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/12/holiday-blues.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/5662989558920204629?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/5662989558920204629?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/B_QS8NVqVuI/holiday-blues.html" title="Holiday blues" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/12/holiday-blues.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIMRng7cSp7ImA9Wx9SEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-3747629296346581401</id><published>2010-11-30T13:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T13:06:27.609+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-30T13:06:27.609+08:00</app:edited><title>Boni day</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YV3Iv2Gcycbm4CcnESxulHkao4I/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YV3Iv2Gcycbm4CcnESxulHkao4I/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/YV3Iv2Gcycbm4CcnESxulHkao4I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YV3Iv2Gcycbm4CcnESxulHkao4I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Today we remember that sometimes we have to fight for what we believe in. Sometimes, we have to be aggressive to get what we deserve and that, sometimes, war is inevitable... Even when our friends abandon us, we keep fighting because we have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, this is what Andres Bonifacio represents. How about you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-3747629296346581401?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/3EMkNy52ctQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/3747629296346581401/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/11/boni-day.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/3747629296346581401?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/3747629296346581401?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/3EMkNy52ctQ/boni-day.html" title="Boni day" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/11/boni-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk4MSHozeyp7ImA9Wx5RF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-2490469525150134078</id><published>2010-08-25T22:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T22:03:09.483+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-25T22:03:09.483+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dreams" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="drug addiction" /><title>Dream</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OzopmsVqj62LtbilUVsvaw7WlnE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OzopmsVqj62LtbilUVsvaw7WlnE/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/OzopmsVqj62LtbilUVsvaw7WlnE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OzopmsVqj62LtbilUVsvaw7WlnE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;I had a dream yesterday. It was unusual in the sense that I was watching a story unfold complete with a narrator in the background. Sort of like a newscaster, explaining what is happening.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt; It was a story of a teenage girl addicted to prohibited substances. I'm not sure what substance but it was something that can be made in a High School lab.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt; It started with a nerdy girl who was reading about the effects of drug addiction. She knew she was addicted and wanted to know what would happen to her. She was in a library at a very late hour. there was no one else around her while she was reading the books sprawled on the floor of the library between aisles of books. She got scared so much that she vomited in a plastic bag. She then set the bag of vomit aside and kept reading. The narrator then mentioned that she went to distill the vomit and got around a weeks supply of crack. She then sold the distilled crack and went ahead to buy more. She eventually made a business out of it: selling crack to her peers and schoolmates.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;The scene then showed that same girl traveling overseas to buy raw materials for her crack business. She made so much money that her brother eventually discovered her activities and addiction. Her brother blackmailed her to give him crack money since he was an addict himself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;Eventually, she was caught when her brother squealed on her because she stopped bribing him.Her activities were revealed on national TV and she was eventually jailed for drug pushing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;I got the impression that the setting was in the US. I do not know what this dream means but I thought I should write it down in case it means something to someone. Or if it really happened.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-2490469525150134078?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/pxL_tSApu6M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/2490469525150134078/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/08/dream.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/2490469525150134078?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/2490469525150134078?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/pxL_tSApu6M/dream.html" title="Dream" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/08/dream.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08DQHcyeip7ImA9Wx5RE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-6235406921673885554</id><published>2010-08-21T03:14:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T03:17:51.992+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-21T03:17:51.992+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="light pollution" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Right to Starlight" /><title>Right to Starlight</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dI2DNIDWJyzF8EhzKZvf6Dvts8M/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dI2DNIDWJyzF8EhzKZvf6Dvts8M/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/dI2DNIDWJyzF8EhzKZvf6Dvts8M/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dI2DNIDWJyzF8EhzKZvf6Dvts8M/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.grybnet.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/starlight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="254" src="http://www.grybnet.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/starlight.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This morning, I conducted one of my usual English lessons with a French guy. So, there I was asking questions, correcting grammar, and doing stuff that English trainers usually do. Honestly, I was not really paying much attention and I was just writing and speaking automatically. Then I finally became aware of our topic: Right to Startlight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;This actually surprised me and I started paying more attention. I&amp;nbsp; sent him an article regarding a move by some astronomers regarding every person's basic Right to Starlight. That is, the Right to view stars without light pollution. The right to be able to look at the night sky and view thousands of stars with the naked eye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;This Right has been ignored for so long. I don't even remember the last time I have actually seen the sky as it should be. I think it was when I went to a very undeveloped village with around 100 residents. I saw stars so much that I felt so small and insignificant, insignificant in the sense that the universe is such a big place and man is trying so hard to deny that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;What's the point of this rant? Well, I just want to remind you that we should not ignore little things like the Right to Starlight. If we do, it would lead to something worse. Just a thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: cyan;"&gt;Oh, and try looking at the sky tonight before you go to sleep. See how many stars you can count. There should be thousands, but if you're like me, living in the "big city" then you'll probably see a few. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-6235406921673885554?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/3TYfGHE7Els" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/6235406921673885554/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/08/right-to-starlight.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/6235406921673885554?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/6235406921673885554?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/3TYfGHE7Els/right-to-starlight.html" title="Right to Starlight" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/08/right-to-starlight.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkABQ3g9fip7ImA9WxBWGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-3536551039716100089</id><published>2010-02-10T20:14:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T10:19:12.666+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-11T10:19:12.666+08:00</app:edited><title>Charlie Green Live in Eastwood city!</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1vtAIMT6tzklAz3FwscLNedTuWk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1vtAIMT6tzklAz3FwscLNedTuWk/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/1vtAIMT6tzklAz3FwscLNedTuWk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1vtAIMT6tzklAz3FwscLNedTuWk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;So, i just finished an interview with a BPO. In Eastwood and decided to walk a bit. It was 30 after 6 pm and a concert was in the works and the place was packed.&lt;br /&gt;Now I do not watch concerts and havent been to one so i hung arnd to see what the fuss was about. Well, i'm not disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;Charlie Green is the 13 yr old Britains Got Talent sensation. I haven't heard him before but this kid sings great! He sings the Blues really well! I'm a fan!&lt;br /&gt;Kahit hindi ko feel and balentimes, this kid makes you think of good times and happy moments. I suggest you see his videos in youtube. I know I will. :)&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and he has another free concert McKinley Hills in Fort Bonifacio on Feb 12, panuorin nyo. Better yet, just go and listen.&lt;br /&gt;And he sang Dahil Sayo in tagalog like he's been singing it for a long time. I love this kid!&lt;br /&gt;Kinda reminds me of a british David Archuleta singing the blues... They sound alike and look alike... ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-3536551039716100089?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/gMuvi69Gfs4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/3536551039716100089/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/02/charlie-green-live-in-eastwood-city.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/3536551039716100089?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/3536551039716100089?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/gMuvi69Gfs4/charlie-green-live-in-eastwood-city.html" title="Charlie Green Live in Eastwood city!" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/02/charlie-green-live-in-eastwood-city.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QASXo9eSp7ImA9WxBQGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-2806233214569990326</id><published>2010-01-20T12:22:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T12:22:28.461+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-20T12:22:28.461+08:00</app:edited><title>Job hunting... Again.</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mAa4EXNok9hTRlsUKFCNaMmWmCU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mAa4EXNok9hTRlsUKFCNaMmWmCU/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/mAa4EXNok9hTRlsUKFCNaMmWmCU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mAa4EXNok9hTRlsUKFCNaMmWmCU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img width='640' src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/S1aFAQfBpYI/AAAAAAAAACo/a4WFisoe8Ug/img.jpg'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a target=_blank href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=14.55722,121.02123'&gt;GeoTagged, [N14.55722, W121.02123]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So, nagresign nanaman ako sa latest job ko. As usual, sinubukang itago sa pamilya pero lumabas din. As usual, nagalit ang mga elders, napagsabihan ng mga kaibigan, nasermunan ng lola, etc. At as usual, pag may nagtanong kung bakit, "wala lang..." ang sagot. Eh, sa hindi ko talaga alam eh. &lt;br /&gt;Sabi nga ni Alfie, "... Pa lang nagpapalit ng damit ah..." Siguro nga.&lt;br /&gt;Pasalamat na lang ako at nakakahanap naman ako agad ng trabaho kahit nakakatamad.&lt;br /&gt;Kaya ngayon, matapos masermonan ni lola kagabi, nasa makati nanaman ako at nagpapalipas oras habang nagaantay ng interview. Buti na lang, libre wifi sa Coffee Bean...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-2806233214569990326?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/xVlwgqqQVXY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/2806233214569990326/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/01/job-hunting-again.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/2806233214569990326?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/2806233214569990326?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/xVlwgqqQVXY/job-hunting-again.html" title="Job hunting... Again." /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/S1aFAQfBpYI/AAAAAAAAACo/a4WFisoe8Ug/s72-c/img.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2010/01/job-hunting-again.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEMR309fCp7ImA9WxNbEko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-4391965371013176272</id><published>2009-11-15T16:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T16:44:46.364+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-15T16:44:46.364+08:00</app:edited><title>Makati... After 6 months (emo mode ulit)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CNkmT2t-uPDUiOHCKDTKYonIiJ8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CNkmT2t-uPDUiOHCKDTKYonIiJ8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CNkmT2t-uPDUiOHCKDTKYonIiJ8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CNkmT2t-uPDUiOHCKDTKYonIiJ8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img width='640' src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/Sv-_eZSdDuI/AAAAAAAAACg/qvQHKQJaAR0/img_7.jpg'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a target=_blank href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=14.55672,121.02103'&gt;GeoTagged, [N14.55672, W121.02103]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Makati uli, lumipas ang anim na buwan at napadpad ako uli dito. Nakaka miss din pala dito. Ewan ko ba, hindi naman ako likas na senti pero iba nararamdaman ko ngayon. Hindi ko naman inakala na mamimiss ko pala ang lugar na ito.&lt;br /&gt;Bakit nga ba? Siguro kasi dito ako pinakamatagal nagtrabaho. Madaming nakilala at madami din ang pinagdaanan. Dito din kasi ako nakaramdam na may patutunguhan ang buhay ko, at dito din ako nakaramdam na magkaroon ng ikalawang pamilya. &lt;br /&gt;Drama ano? Ala lang, namiss ko lang ang makati. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-4391965371013176272?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/YBfMkpllVr0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/4391965371013176272/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/11/makati-after-6-months-emo-mode-ulit.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/4391965371013176272?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/4391965371013176272?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/YBfMkpllVr0/makati-after-6-months-emo-mode-ulit.html" title="Makati... After 6 months (emo mode ulit)" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/Sv-_eZSdDuI/AAAAAAAAACg/qvQHKQJaAR0/s72-c/img_7.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/11/makati-after-6-months-emo-mode-ulit.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UMQn8-eip7ImA9WxNWFUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-8081585059865430072</id><published>2009-10-14T17:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T17:08:03.152+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-14T17:08:03.152+08:00</app:edited><title>Break time!!!</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LbH2t75kqs22l2Mpb2WK7nBVzek/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LbH2t75kqs22l2Mpb2WK7nBVzek/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/LbH2t75kqs22l2Mpb2WK7nBVzek/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LbH2t75kqs22l2Mpb2WK7nBVzek/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/StWU720S60I/AAAAAAAAACc/5kjcEVZSa9k/img_6.jpg'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a target=_blank href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=14.60996,121.07384'&gt;GeoTagged, [N14.60996, W121.07384]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;My first day at work after 3 days of absence... It's crunch time to say the least. Backlogs, escalations, agent issues, behavioral issues, attendance, and all that. Somehow, i miss doing "nothing" and having control over my own time. &lt;br /&gt;So, what's a stressed out single guy living alone do? I have no idea. All i have is a hankering for ice cream on this rainy and wet afternoon... I think this is a sign...&lt;br /&gt;In any case, i bought the ice cream and spent my quiet moment in the lobby... Haaay. Peace.  ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-8081585059865430072?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/1dn6jkwBBTo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/8081585059865430072/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/10/break-time.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/8081585059865430072?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/8081585059865430072?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/1dn6jkwBBTo/break-time.html" title="Break time!!!" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/StWU720S60I/AAAAAAAAACc/5kjcEVZSa9k/s72-c/img_6.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/10/break-time.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMNQXwzeip7ImA9WxNQE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-3207025360559796844</id><published>2009-09-19T20:28:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T20:31:30.282+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-19T20:31:30.282+08:00</app:edited><title>Emo Moments...</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oDQVVMBbiKMkxdFIhQjbDJ6F4tI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oDQVVMBbiKMkxdFIhQjbDJ6F4tI/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/oDQVVMBbiKMkxdFIhQjbDJ6F4tI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/oDQVVMBbiKMkxdFIhQjbDJ6F4tI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;Naalala ko na may online journal pala ako sa ibang website. Naisipan kong magbasa tungkol sa pinagsusulat ko nuon. Natawa na lang ako sa huli kong naisulat:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);" class="date"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;11.24.2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);" class="entry"&gt;  &lt;div class="entrytitle"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tagalog naman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;div class="entrytext"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It's almost Christmas again. Mag isa pa din ako. Kailang kaya ako magkakaroon ng mamahalin? Tagal na din nung huli akong nagmahal. Dekada na at ang lumipas. Sakit kasi eh. Pinagpalit nya ako sa kung sinomang naka buntis sa kanya. Umalis lang ako nang 3 buwan nabuntis na!!! Hanep! Plano ko pa naman na cyang seryosohin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bakit ganun? Lahat na ata ng minahal ko ginago lang ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung una, nuong high school ako. Tagal ko syang niligawan, 4 na buwan nya akong pinaasa, sa matalik kong kaibigan pala bagsak nya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung ikalawa, niligawan ko din pero mas ginusto nya yung tricycle drayber na taga hatid nya!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yung ikatlo, iniwan ko lang sandali nabuntis na!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ampotah namang pag ibig ito! Syet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bakit ganun? YUng hindi ko pinapansin, sya naman ang lihim palang nagmamahal sakin... Nagtapat sya sakin pero tinawanan ko lang. 'kala ko kasi nagbibiro lang sya. Best pren kasi tingin ko sa kanya at may nililigawan ako nuon. Malamang nasaktan yun. Maganda sya pero nahuli nang dating. Loyal kasi ako kahit nanliligaw pa lang. Ang tanga ko talaga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayon, wala na akong nararamdaman. Madalas para akong yelo, walang paki. Kahit maghubad pa sa harap ko, wala akong nararamdaman. Manhid na ata ako. Wala na akong maramdaman kahit konti sa puso ko. Namatay na at lahat ang tatay ko, wala pa din akong naramdaman kundi galit. Puro galit na lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nakakasawa na ngang magalit pero ito na lang ata ang natitira kong emosyon. Galit. Galit sa mundo, sa mga amo, sa mga empleyado, sa lahat na ata ng nilalang pati sa Diyos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Potah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yoko na nga!!!&lt;/span&gt;          &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;div class="entryfooter"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Posted on 11.24.2008 at 6:28 PM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-3207025360559796844?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/KgxZDkxd-d0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="related" href="http://sephyr.easyjournal.com" title="Emo Moments..." /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/3207025360559796844/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/09/emo-moments.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/3207025360559796844?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/3207025360559796844?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/KgxZDkxd-d0/emo-moments.html" title="Emo Moments..." /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/09/emo-moments.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4FRng6fSp7ImA9WxNQE0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-443267154221298760</id><published>2009-08-28T13:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T20:21:57.615+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-19T20:21:57.615+08:00</app:edited><title>Little things that turn out BIG</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/R9vdQYLYfn5IU9EFUxO0XeZCoFA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/R9vdQYLYfn5IU9EFUxO0XeZCoFA/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/R9vdQYLYfn5IU9EFUxO0XeZCoFA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/R9vdQYLYfn5IU9EFUxO0XeZCoFA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Its a good day today. I've tried convincing myself that and succeed most of the time. Its the little things that get you though... Details most people let slide. I don't, most of the time anyway.&lt;br /&gt;So, to fill my dreary day, i'm working on a list. This post will therefore be updated throughout the day as I encounter those little irritating moments:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Indian&lt;br /&gt;  - its a local term for missing or not showing up for a date. Mostly happens during blind dates, in this case, it applies to people who set a 'date' (NOT romantic) like eating lunch together.&lt;br /&gt;   - sometimes the other party asks you to wait for them but does not showup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I.e. 8:30am person a asks you to wait as they will take lunch with you. Lunch arrives and you end up waiting a few and asking around but person a is missing. You decide to eat on your own and after you look around for a nice place, you see person a eating lunch with someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. System slow&lt;br /&gt;   -referred to as 'system update' in BPO industries.&lt;br /&gt;   -happens intermittently. Usually occurs during toxic work conditions (ie: many calls on hold, etc).&lt;br /&gt;   -affects everyone in sudden bursts or isolated incident.&lt;br /&gt;   - may result in items below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Noisy seatmate&lt;br /&gt;   - term used in local classrooms for loud, exuberant types during and between classes. May also refer to a loud co-worker you sit next to.&lt;br /&gt;   -commonly encountered during busy work situations where you need to pay extra attention to what your doing. May be triggered when the other party encounters item 2 (see above).&lt;br /&gt;   - manifests as loud voice that can be heard several meters away, banging on the desk, and/or unnecessary side comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Speed bump&lt;br /&gt;   - refers to humps in public streets in residential areas. Used as noise control for residential areas requiring privacy and low disturbance levels.&lt;br /&gt;   - in this case, it refers to sudden blocks or stops in pedestrian traffic when the person/s ahead suddenly experience disorientation due to a lousy sense of direction or just plain memory loss.&lt;br /&gt;   - commonly occurs in crowded hallways, sidewalks, malls, escalators, elevator exits, and similar areas. May cause item 2 (see above) or personal harm to the speed bump.&lt;br /&gt;   - frequently happens to people who are on a time limit/constraint (ie: late for work or appointment.&lt;br /&gt;   - may manifest as a group of people walking slowly like they own the place and genrally occupying the width of the hallway. Can also be people occupying both lanes on a two lane hallway.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-443267154221298760?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/cf1M10CHYqY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/443267154221298760/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-things-that-turn-out-big.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/443267154221298760?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/443267154221298760?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/cf1M10CHYqY/little-things-that-turn-out-big.html" title="Little things that turn out BIG" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-things-that-turn-out-big.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QCSHw6fip7ImA9WxNTEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-1750073192007877606</id><published>2009-08-13T15:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T15:42:49.216+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-13T15:42:49.216+08:00</app:edited><title>Feeling good!!</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YoRtzjlfG2M02B1BnKJMHtDkTe8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YoRtzjlfG2M02B1BnKJMHtDkTe8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YoRtzjlfG2M02B1BnKJMHtDkTe8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YoRtzjlfG2M02B1BnKJMHtDkTe8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/SoPD8XvyDJI/AAAAAAAAACY/ViVWyEq-HsU/img_5.jpg'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a target=_blank href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=14.60708,121.04191'&gt;GeoTagged, [N14.60708, W121.04191]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;A few days ago I was feeling horrible. Somehow, I knew I would have to start from scratch again. Now, I'm feeling better. It helps dahil it's sahod day and I felt good paying off some of my debts. What really made my day was that I just feel good!&lt;br /&gt;Strange, but my day ended just right and I have a feeling tomorrow is gonna be alot better... ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-1750073192007877606?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/IlFBkr2cW3Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/1750073192007877606/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/08/feeling-good.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/1750073192007877606?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/1750073192007877606?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/IlFBkr2cW3Q/feeling-good.html" title="Feeling good!!" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/SoPD8XvyDJI/AAAAAAAAACY/ViVWyEq-HsU/s72-c/img_5.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/08/feeling-good.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMBSHc5fyp7ImA9WxJaEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-9023627034866108282</id><published>2009-08-02T18:20:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T18:20:59.927+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-02T18:20:59.927+08:00</app:edited><title>Of Endorsements, Proposals, and Rents</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1efosjLhOT_OrMB_V6qj_Hw27r0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1efosjLhOT_OrMB_V6qj_Hw27r0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1efosjLhOT_OrMB_V6qj_Hw27r0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1efosjLhOT_OrMB_V6qj_Hw27r0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/SnVohIvVpLI/AAAAAAAAACU/rSe_OS2pvmA/img_4.jpg'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a target=_blank href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=14.60708,121.04191'&gt;GeoTagged, [N14.60708, W121.04191]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I just finished watching The Proposal an iI realized Sandra Bullock is getting old!!! Seriously, I needed a pick-me-up so I went watched me a feel good movie. It turned out pretty well considering the age gap and all that. I actually liked it!!&lt;br /&gt;After a week of disappointments I finally began to see some sense in all of it. To my surprise, I started to feel a bit better. It does not really matter. None of it does. No matter how much you struggle to control your life it always slips free. It's when things start crashing and breaking apart that you realize you just need to let go. Struggles are a part of life. It's when you stop struggling that things turn out better than you thought possible. I know, it has happened before and it will happen again. Everything turns out just right.&lt;br /&gt;So, as I sit by the waiting shed, listening to Nora Jones, I start to let go. Let tomorrow take care of itself. I did my part, I gave it my best shot, what happens next doesn't matter. What matters is I lived my life moment by moment and enjoyed every time spent with friends, with myself, with people who mean much to me. What matters is I LIVED and I lived well!&lt;br /&gt;So what does this got to do with the movie? I liked it. Made me think of how I've been spending my life. It was a funny and poignant movie. Or maybe i'm just cheesy. :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-9023627034866108282?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/da0xe7RNnNo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/9023627034866108282/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/08/of-endorsements-proposals-and-rents.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/9023627034866108282?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/9023627034866108282?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/da0xe7RNnNo/of-endorsements-proposals-and-rents.html" title="Of Endorsements, Proposals, and Rents" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/SnVohIvVpLI/AAAAAAAAACU/rSe_OS2pvmA/s72-c/img_4.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/08/of-endorsements-proposals-and-rents.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQDRHgzfSp7ImA9WxJbE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-5894793198976730807</id><published>2009-07-23T18:52:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T18:52:55.685+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-23T18:52:55.685+08:00</app:edited><title>Of room mates and cubicles</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/03OsfwUDB5IRi1zOAVGQ_NHwXNA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/03OsfwUDB5IRi1zOAVGQ_NHwXNA/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/03OsfwUDB5IRi1zOAVGQ_NHwXNA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/03OsfwUDB5IRi1zOAVGQ_NHwXNA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/SmhBAvEaVnI/AAAAAAAAACQ/laC7XQ0qtwg/img_3.jpg'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a target=_blank href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=14.60879,121.07849'&gt;GeoTagged, [N14.60879, W121.07849]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;I moved to a new place less than a month ago. Due to unforeseen circumstances, I traded a room in an apartment for a cubicle. Don't get me wrong, I actually prefer my new place. It's cleaner, has no karinderia smell, has airconditioning, and a working shower. I thought it was a small price to pay in giving up a little privacy. Now, I'm not so sure.&lt;br /&gt;I'm now staying in a cubicle within a room that has 2 other occupants: both in cubicles like mine. Both are professionals and seem like decent individuals. In the three weeks since I moved in, I have only talked with one of them, the other keeps to himself and almost never leaves his tiny space when he's there. It would have been fine if we never talked, but lately I just want to scream at him. Yes he stays in his room but he makes so much noise watching whatever he wants that It's beginning to irritate me. That guy acts like he's all alone and does not even have the decency to use earphones like I do. To top it off, he snores!!! And then there's the disadvantage of living beside the main road: it's never quiet and traffic noise is everpresent.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Like always, "when it seems too good to be true, it probably is".&lt;br /&gt;I guess I should start looking for a new place...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-5894793198976730807?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/-q8nGpEndes" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/5894793198976730807/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/07/of-room-mates-and-cubicles.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/5894793198976730807?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/5894793198976730807?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/-q8nGpEndes/of-room-mates-and-cubicles.html" title="Of room mates and cubicles" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/SmhBAvEaVnI/AAAAAAAAACQ/laC7XQ0qtwg/s72-c/img_3.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/07/of-room-mates-and-cubicles.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4NSHg_fSp7ImA9WxJUE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-7204139372741147636</id><published>2009-07-12T18:03:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T18:03:19.645+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-12T18:03:19.645+08:00</app:edited><title>Sunday afternoon</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JhItf38ttMXqYqP0-vzUm9eKGWk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JhItf38ttMXqYqP0-vzUm9eKGWk/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/JhItf38ttMXqYqP0-vzUm9eKGWk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JhItf38ttMXqYqP0-vzUm9eKGWk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;My sunday restday... Spent the day sleeping and the afternoon uploading. I've been trying to upload pics for days and it finally seems to be working well!&lt;br /&gt;The pic above shows my usual setup at the libby of my 'dorm'...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-7204139372741147636?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/s8LrIPnNeNo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/7204139372741147636/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/07/sunday-afternoon.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/7204139372741147636?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/7204139372741147636?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/s8LrIPnNeNo/sunday-afternoon.html" title="Sunday afternoon" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/07/sunday-afternoon.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQAR3gzcSp7ImA9WxJVF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-2182571881701247422</id><published>2009-07-05T00:02:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T00:02:26.689+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-05T00:02:26.689+08:00</app:edited><title>From rathole to cubicle</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Em_JpigHQUPdsQntSG5Uf9YNEm8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Em_JpigHQUPdsQntSG5Uf9YNEm8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Em_JpigHQUPdsQntSG5Uf9YNEm8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Em_JpigHQUPdsQntSG5Uf9YNEm8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/Sk99DBVsYyI/AAAAAAAAACM/vWuiPuqvUgI/img_1.jpg'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a target=_blank href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=14.61156,121.07555'&gt;GeoTagged, [N14.61156, W121.07555]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;So, i finally moved to a new place. It was a last minute move, unfortunately. I got what I wanted, walking distance from the office, cheap food (php33 per meal is cheap!), clean place, and bathroom has shower that actually works!!!&lt;br /&gt;The place is definitely waaay better than my previous place.  No more carinderia smells on my stuff, oven hot temperatures during midday, and spicy garlic stink in the air at all times.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, everything has a price. The space is just enough for a bed-hence a cubicle... Oh well... &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-2182571881701247422?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/rwBbkBpqPeM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/2182571881701247422/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/07/from-rathole-to-cubicle.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/2182571881701247422?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/2182571881701247422?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/rwBbkBpqPeM/from-rathole-to-cubicle.html" title="From rathole to cubicle" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/Sk99DBVsYyI/AAAAAAAAACM/vWuiPuqvUgI/s72-c/img_1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/07/from-rathole-to-cubicle.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUBQno4fCp7ImA9WxJVF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-6100771198149019715</id><published>2009-07-04T23:41:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:44:13.434+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-04T23:44:13.434+08:00</app:edited><title>Test</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cKLlxWWBtb8lbT6QXM_L7LIv0t8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cKLlxWWBtb8lbT6QXM_L7LIv0t8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cKLlxWWBtb8lbT6QXM_L7LIv0t8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cKLlxWWBtb8lbT6QXM_L7LIv0t8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/Sk94CnYM1KI/AAAAAAAAACI/OaL6AWXU0P4/img.jpg'&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;a target=_blank href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=14.60996,121.07384'&gt;GeoTagged, [N14.60996, W121.07384]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Testing mobile blogger.&lt;br /&gt;Pic above shows my attemp to capture fog on cam. This one was taken in Summit Ridge, Tagaytay with the Transition Team. My iphone was able to capture a better fog pic than my digicam. Weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-6100771198149019715?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/YeawX28wgJ8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/6100771198149019715/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/07/test_04.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/6100771198149019715?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/6100771198149019715?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/YeawX28wgJ8/test_04.html" title="Test" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_hVDPAuhvMoA/Sk94CnYM1KI/AAAAAAAAACI/OaL6AWXU0P4/s72-c/img.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/07/test_04.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAFQH8_fyp7ImA9WxJXEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-3591898746954340170</id><published>2009-06-04T21:34:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T22:11:51.147+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-04T22:11:51.147+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="traffic woes" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="training" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Road rage" /><title>Rains, Training, Traffic Woes</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4gTaOp18B7QPSUDIVYJXzu-rbiQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4gTaOp18B7QPSUDIVYJXzu-rbiQ/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/4gTaOp18B7QPSUDIVYJXzu-rbiQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4gTaOp18B7QPSUDIVYJXzu-rbiQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://outeasy.files.wordpress.com/2007/05/roadrage_anemi1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 425px; height: 700px;" src="http://outeasy.files.wordpress.com/2007/05/roadrage_anemi1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;Today wasn't so bad. The tools were actually working and we finally got the chance to play with it a bit. Training proceeded as it should be and, considering product specs, it was still boring. What did anyone expect of info overload... We had LOTS of practice and role plays and discussions. Some of us were even sleeping...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;I took the long way home after work and boy! was it a surprise. I rode one of those big, new buses from Cubao to Makati (where I live) and the bus driver probably has the worst luck I have ever encountered. You see, it was raining intermittently in bursts and drizzles. During these times, many areas of the Metro gets flash floods of various sizes. The streets can get REALLY wet. This particular bus driver was minding his own business (driving and trying to get the best position in the traffic), when out comes the MMDA guy (MMDA 1) and hands him a ticket for a nebulous traffic violation in Ortigas. MMDA 1 was just doing his job (it's the start of the school year and he has to send his kids to school so he works REALLY hard). We waited around 15 minutes while the driver and MMDA 1 "negotiated" the violation. Bus driver insisted on getting the ticket although MMDA 1 wanted him to pay the fine (he has to send his kids to school you know). Eventually, mr driver got his way and drove away without his licence and a new ticket.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;A few meters away, in Shaw Blvd, Mr driver was again accosted by another MMDA guy (MMDA 2). Mr Driver was this time trying to get close to the shaded walkway so he can let his passengers out without getting drenched (said passengers did not bring umbrella's although it has been raining for 2 days now). Apparently MMDA 2 was also working REALLY hard (he probably has kids to send off to school too) so he had to issue a ticket to Mr Bus driver for violating the "yellow lane" and causing further traffic delays to those behind him. MMDA 2 pulled Mr Bus driver out (causing further traffic interruptions) so they can "negotiate" for the ticket or a fine (he has MANY kids to send to school). By this time, my fellow passengers started getting pissed. The began bad mouthing MMDA 2 and Mr Bus driver joined the fun: he refused to leave the bus (it was raining REALLY hard) and yelled at MMDA 2 from his seat. Passengers threatened MMDA 2 with torture and mayhem but MMDA 2 was very adamant with his job (he has to send his kids to school) and had to do the right thing (have driver pay fine). Mr driver insisted on the ticket since he already has one and his licence was with MMDA 1. Mr driver got his way after much yelling and cursing from MMDA 2 and passengers alike (I wish I took a video of the occasion, at least a picture). We drove off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;Before we even breathed a sigh of relief, MMDA 3 decides he also needs to work hard on this rainy day and pulled Mr driver aside AGAIN. We only got as far as several meters from MMDA 2 and he violated another traffic law.  I can't believe the luck Mr driver has. Anyway, MMDA 3 started yelling at Mr Driver who was now begging for mercy as this will be his 3rd ticket. Mr driver said he just got a ticket a few meters away but MMDA 3, for some reason, does not believe him (he also needs to send his kids to school, I think). Again, they yell, passengers argue and defend driver, MMDA 3 insists on fine, driver says he wants a ticket or none at all and passengers threatening mayhem and World War III. Still, Mr driver got his way and drove us away with yet another ticket. He prayed out loud that the MMDA people be "blessed"  with good sleep and a happy future since they were all so hard working (because they have kids to send to school).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;And so, I finally got home to the Rat hole in 3 hours since I left the office. And this ends my eventful 2nd day in Product Specs training...   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;THE END.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-3591898746954340170?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/jC0UW85Swo0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/3591898746954340170/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/06/rains-training-traffic-woes.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/3591898746954340170?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/3591898746954340170?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/jC0UW85Swo0/rains-training-traffic-woes.html" title="Rains, Training, Traffic Woes" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/06/rains-training-traffic-woes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMHSH88fip7ImA9WxJXEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-7423301303370831757</id><published>2009-06-03T21:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T21:33:59.176+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-06-04T21:33:59.176+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="games" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="training" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="decathlon" /><title>Training Blues</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LOuDmCGGg_Z0vI0dYu0mYoyhD4k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LOuDmCGGg_Z0vI0dYu0mYoyhD4k/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/LOuDmCGGg_Z0vI0dYu0mYoyhD4k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LOuDmCGGg_Z0vI0dYu0mYoyhD4k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/sol/shared/spl/hi/pop_ups/06/athletics_dean_macey0s_decathlon_pictures/img/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://news.bbc.co.uk/sol/shared/spl/hi/pop_ups/06/athletics_dean_macey0s_decathlon_pictures/img/1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;First day in Product specs. This has got to be the "slowest" training I have ever attended--and I have been trained alot!Class started the usual way when we get a new trainer: introductions and stuff. The getting to know you stage. we were asked to describe our hopes and dreams in a drawing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;Having spent the first half of the day talking about ourselves we then proceeded to training proper. Alas! The tools were "down". We just had to play a game instead. "Fruit salad"--the trainer called it. It's a modified game of Journey to Jerusalem--instead of music, we were divided into groups of fruits. Chairs were set aside for each of us minus one (that's 23 chairs for 24 people). The game works by someone (the "it") yelling out a fruit, a combination of fruits or just saying "fruit salad". If anyone is part of the "fruit" mentioned, he has to vacate his current chair and race to another. Of course someone gets left out and he, then becomes the "it". If anyone is an "it" twice, he gets to perform a talent (usually singing). After the performance the "it" calls out another fruit and the game begins anew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;It was chaotic! People got knocked out, sat on, thrown down and pushed aside regardless of sex and position. it was worse for the ladies as we had several "big boys" in the class and they weren't so gentle. By the end of the first "round" i've seen girls knocked to the floor and guys thrown outside the circle of chairs. And the game went on for the next hour or so. By the time we ended the game, everyone was panting and sweaty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;I was "it" twice so I had to sing for everyone's benefit. It wasn't bad and I never lost a chair again! hehehe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;It was fun but exhausting. Kinda like running a decathlon... Not for the faint of heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-7423301303370831757?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/-xyVesZm9Qs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/7423301303370831757/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/06/training-blues.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/7423301303370831757?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/7423301303370831757?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/-xyVesZm9Qs/training-blues.html" title="Training Blues" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/06/training-blues.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UCR3k4fSp7ImA9WxJRFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-4189835446067066923</id><published>2009-05-17T01:14:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T01:34:26.735+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-17T01:34:26.735+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="trust" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="lessons" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="money" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="debts" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="loans" /><title>Never Lend Money... Lesson Learned</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lDvPEQg_pU0uSUtY1TeAt3732fI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lDvPEQg_pU0uSUtY1TeAt3732fI/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/lDvPEQg_pU0uSUtY1TeAt3732fI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lDvPEQg_pU0uSUtY1TeAt3732fI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i237.photobucket.com/albums/ff133/chuly529/leaveitbehind.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 512px; height: 640px;" src="http://i237.photobucket.com/albums/ff133/chuly529/leaveitbehind.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get to go back to Ilocos and continue my vacation... F*%#@ing debtors! My plans got derailed because people don't keep their word! I mean, do they have to disappear on you when they can't pay? They can always tell me: "I'm sorry but I can't pay you anymore..."? I can't do anything about it can I? I don't force people to pay their debts when they can't for whatever reason. I hate it when they promise something and I end up expecting them to keep it. I'm such a wuss for believing them. I trust too much. Now I have to borrow because of it... Too bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-4189835446067066923?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/bo7SRI4mrzI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/4189835446067066923/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/05/never-lend-money-lesson-learned.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/4189835446067066923?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/4189835446067066923?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/bo7SRI4mrzI/never-lend-money-lesson-learned.html" title="Never Lend Money... Lesson Learned" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/05/never-lend-money-lesson-learned.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQNRXg_fip7ImA9WxJRFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13993701.post-7438991299216699867</id><published>2009-05-15T22:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T23:46:34.646+08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-05-15T23:46:34.646+08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="opinion" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Filipino" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="culture" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="habits" /><title>Filipino</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b0LA5znxgOpJyy2m3h-MwnXf2mo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b0LA5znxgOpJyy2m3h-MwnXf2mo/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/b0LA5znxgOpJyy2m3h-MwnXf2mo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/b0LA5znxgOpJyy2m3h-MwnXf2mo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;I got this ad (article) from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);" href="http://manila.craigslist.com"&gt;craigslist&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt; under the Rants and Raves section. This is perhaps a very good Generalization of the Filipino. Personally, I do not agree with several points as they are extremely judgmental.  The article does have very insightful points which shows that the writer probably spent a great deal of time in the country or is himself a Filipino. You decide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;----------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2 style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Filipino&lt;/h2&gt; &lt;hr style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt; Reply to: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);" href="mailto:pers-fd8xv-1166939594@craigslist.org?subject=Filipino"&gt;pers-fd8xv-1166939594@craigslist.org&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;sup style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;[&lt;a href="http://www.craigslist.org/about/help/replying_to_posts" target="_blank"&gt;Errors when replying to ads?&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/sup&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt; Date: 2009-05-12, 11:09PM PHT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt; Filipinos do not consider it a meal if rice is not served. Plain steamed rice is the basis of the diet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt; Salt water and freshwater fish and shellfish are eaten daily, served either fresh or salted.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt; Fish, chicken and pork are usually fried, although people are becoming more health-conscious and often choose alternative methods of cooking. Garlic is added to food because it is considered healthful. Filipino food is not spicy. Food is cooked on gas burners or wood or charcoal fires and is allowed to get cold before it is eaten. Rice is cooked first, since it takes longer. When it is ready, rice will be placed on the table while the next items of the meal are prepared and served. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Table knives are not used. Forks and spoons are used for dining. The food is eaten from a spoon. The traditional method of placing food on a banana leaf and eating with one's hands is also used throughout the country. It is acceptable to eat food with one's hands at restaurants as well as in the home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Breakfast usually consists of food left over from the night before and is not reheated. Eggs and sausage are served on special occasions. Small buns called pan de sol may be purchased from vendors early in the morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;At midmorning and in the afternoon, Filipinos eat merienda. Since Filipinos are fond of sweet foods, a mixture of instant coffee, evaporated milk, and sugar may be served. Coca-Cola is very popular. Sweet rolls, doughnuts, or a noodle dish may be available. Lunch is a light meal with rice and one other dish, often a fish or meat stew. Fish, pork, or chicken is served at dinner with a soup made of lentils or vegetables. Fatty pork is a favorite. Portions of small cubes of browned pork fat are considered a special dish. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Fruits are abundant all year. Several kinds of banana are eaten, including red and green varieties. Mangoes, the national fruit, are sweet and juicy. A fruit salad with condensed milk and coconut milk is very popular on special occasions. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Vegetables are included as part of a soup or stew. Green beans and potatoes are commonly eaten foods. The leaves of camote, a sweet potato, are used as a salad and soup ingredient. Ube, a bland bright purple potato, is used as a colorful ingredient in cakes and ice cream. Halo-halo, which means "mixture," is a popular dessert that consists of layers of corn kernels, ice cream, small gelatin pieces, cornflakes and shaved ice. Patis, a very salty fish sauce, is placed on the table to be added to any of the dishes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Fast food has become part of the culture, with national and international chains in many towns. All meals at fast-food restaurant include rice, although French fries also tend to be on the menu. Banana ketchup is preferred, although the international chains serve tomato ketchup. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Léchon, a suckling pig that has been roasted until the skin forms a hard brown crust, is served at important occasions. The inside is very fatty. Strips of the skin with attached fat are considered the best pieces. The importance of the host and the occasion are measured by the amount of léchon served. Blood drained from the pig is used to make dinuguan &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Sticky rice prepared with coconut milk and sugarcane syrup is wrapped in banana leaves. Glutinous rice is grown especially for use in this traditional dessert. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt; Gin and beer are available for men and are accompanied by balut, a duck egg with an embryo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Filipinos believe in the need for social acceptance and feel that education can provide upward mobility. Color of skin, beauty, and money are the criteria that determine a person's social position. Light coloring is correlated with intelligence and a light-skinned attractive person will receive advancement before his or her colleagues. Family position and patron-client associations are useful in achieving success. Government officials, wealthy friends, and community leaders are sponsors at hundreds of weddings and baptisms each year. Those connections are of great importance. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;The people of the Philippines enjoy watching professional basketball played by American professional teams and teams in Filipino professional leagues. Basketball courts are the only sport-site found in every barangay and school. Cockfights are a popular sport among men. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 255);"&gt;Traditional roles prevail in rural areas, where men cultivate the land but the entire family is involved in planting and harvesting the crops. Women work in gardens and care for the house and children as well as barnyard animals. In urban areas, men work in construction and machine upkeep and as drivers of passenger vehicles. Women work as teachers, clerks, owners of sari-sari stores, marketers of produce and health care providers. Occupational gender lines are blurred since men also work as nurses and teachers. In the professions, gender lines are less important. Women attorneys, doctors and lawyers are found in the provinces as well as in urban areas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13993701-7438991299216699867?l=aargghh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~4/LbJHRLwaz5g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="related" href="http://manila.craigslist.com.ph/rnr/1166939594.html" title="Filipino" /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/feeds/7438991299216699867/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/05/filipino.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/7438991299216699867?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13993701/posts/default/7438991299216699867?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/vmFYo/~3/LbJHRLwaz5g/filipino.html" title="Filipino" /><author><name>Sephyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11247353985521528455</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ix14EODCXFk/ThpR699hTGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/DYnhkIUVMZc/s220/alc_log.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://aargghh.blogspot.com/2009/05/filipino.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

