<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655</id><updated>2012-02-16T21:13:10.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>pet's pensieve</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>65</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-3408823193545902091</id><published>2009-12-24T17:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T10:41:00.208+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Being Bella</title><content type='html'>A year ago, someone hinted that I was just making him "the driver" so I decided to buy a motorcycle and to learn to drive one this Christmas holiday season. I talked to mom (adding all the reasons why)  and ask around for price ranges and payment terms.  She told me to consider renting since I am only going to use it for a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the universe conspires... and today they officially cast me the title role of "Bella Swan".  I came home to our small town called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Forks&lt;/span&gt;  err  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sablayan&lt;/span&gt;, and as Bella's father was in Twilight, surprises her with this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SzlmUGrv9PI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ScGf5amYz0M/s1600-h/4x4+pickup+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SzlmUGrv9PI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ScGf5amYz0M/s200/4x4+pickup+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420476122094630130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister seconded:  Bella..bella..bella... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-3408823193545902091?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/3408823193545902091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=3408823193545902091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3408823193545902091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3408823193545902091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/12/being-bella.html' title='Being Bella'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SzlmUGrv9PI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ScGf5amYz0M/s72-c/4x4+pickup+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-1667527548113108288</id><published>2009-11-09T21:56:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T22:02:32.131+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Return of the Jedi</title><content type='html'>I'm back.&lt;br /&gt;The Berlin Wall has fallen... no more walls, no ceilings, no floors.&lt;br /&gt;I am ready for the New Moon.   :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-1667527548113108288?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/1667527548113108288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=1667527548113108288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1667527548113108288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1667527548113108288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/11/return-of-jedi.html' title='The Return of the Jedi'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-4595179395656464430</id><published>2009-09-19T20:33:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T22:54:55.174+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Special day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;..no matter how much you miss a person, someone new may come around...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he did. But not without life's uncanny sense of humor.  He came with the same name as the one whom  she was trying hard to forget. But what is in the name anyway, if that is all they have in common?  She lets him know her and she learned more about him. And there she knew that she is chosen not as the girl for now but as someone to travel this life with. She couldn't ask for more, she can't help but say yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is their day and this is their memorable place:    St. James, Alabang.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-4595179395656464430?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/4595179395656464430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=4595179395656464430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4595179395656464430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4595179395656464430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/09/special-day.html' title='Special day'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-9027469620493241128</id><published>2009-08-04T21:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T02:25:30.764+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Que Sera Sera</title><content type='html'>Whatever the rules of composition are, technicalities of DSLR camera and capabilities of a photoshop, this picture still made me sing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SseV1mw4gzI/AAAAAAAAAEo/kkLuGZQACbQ/s1600-h/DSC_0034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SseV1mw4gzI/AAAAAAAAAEo/kkLuGZQACbQ/s200/DSC_0034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388440227343270706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Que Sera Sera&lt;br /&gt;Doris Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was just a little girl&lt;br /&gt;I asked my mother, what will I be&lt;br /&gt;Will I be pretty, will I be rich&lt;br /&gt;Here's what she said to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que Sera, Sera&lt;br /&gt;Whatever will be, will be&lt;br /&gt;The future's not ours to see&lt;br /&gt;Que sera, sera&lt;br /&gt;What will be, will be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was young, I fell in love&lt;br /&gt;I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead&lt;br /&gt;Will we have rainbows, day after day&lt;br /&gt;Here's what my sweetheart said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que Sera, Sera&lt;br /&gt;Whatever will be, will be&lt;br /&gt;The future's not ours, to see&lt;br /&gt;Que Sera, Sera&lt;br /&gt;What will be, will be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have children of my own&lt;br /&gt;They ask their mother, what will I be&lt;br /&gt;Will I be handsome, will I be rich&lt;br /&gt;I tell them tenderly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que Sera, Sera&lt;br /&gt;Whatever will be, will be&lt;br /&gt;The future's not our's to see&lt;br /&gt;Que Sera, Sera&lt;br /&gt;What will be, will be&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/8313553490983159655-9027469620493241128?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/9027469620493241128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=9027469620493241128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/9027469620493241128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/9027469620493241128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/08/que-sera-sera.html' title='Que Sera Sera'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SseV1mw4gzI/AAAAAAAAAEo/kkLuGZQACbQ/s72-c/DSC_0034.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-7964278401267084095</id><published>2009-07-28T16:47:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T02:11:41.340+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Travel in Stages</title><content type='html'>Travel when you're still young.  It is most enjoyed when young...exploring the hidden secrets of a place with friends, losing your way, making mistakes, getting bruises...simply having fun.  Enjoy being young and enjoy life with friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Travel when you have a family of your own.  It should be an obligation by the parents to their kids.  It is not necessarily be an overseas travel.  It doesn't matter where it is.  It could be out of town, to the mall, to a park, a zoo.  It's a good way to bond with your kids and your kids will appreciate it.  Keep in mind that you might get to enjoy them probably only 16 years then they would like to travel on their own or with their friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SseTiB2n5iI/AAAAAAAAAEg/MAs-DZRpAfM/s1600-h/DSC_0204.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SseTiB2n5iI/AAAAAAAAAEg/MAs-DZRpAfM/s200/DSC_0204.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388437691994465826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;[Mike: this is life mommy]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traveling when you get a little older has some serious tone and you'll probably look at it with a different point of view.  Probably more businesslike and the conversation would be more like hmmmm....reminiscing the younger days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-7964278401267084095?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/7964278401267084095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=7964278401267084095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7964278401267084095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7964278401267084095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/07/travel-in-stages.html' title='Travel in Stages'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SseTiB2n5iI/AAAAAAAAAEg/MAs-DZRpAfM/s72-c/DSC_0204.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-4090123683330416003</id><published>2009-07-28T13:34:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T21:24:36.658+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cebu-Bohol Trip</title><content type='html'>While planning this trip they said:  Orayty! If things work out for you it will be a celebration otherwise we're going to console you in your depress-depress-an mode. Either way it will be just the right venue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it became a celebration thing.  Halleluia! We explored Cebu and Bohol.  So far Cebu got the coolest airport and seaport.  Having been immune to the inefficiency and unpleasantness of Batangas port, I was amazed by the Cebu port, at least the port where we took the supercat.  There are x-rays for luggage, K9 dogs, and where manifesto is automated.  Instead of writing your name, address and telephone number, someone will just scan your ticket and a computer will take your picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bohol on the other hand is the cleanest island so far.  There are 7,107 islands in the Philippines and I have been in just a few so don't take my word for it but here's one you can take: Don't go high with expectations..be ready to be surprised.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-4090123683330416003?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/4090123683330416003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=4090123683330416003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4090123683330416003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4090123683330416003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/07/cebu-bohol-trip.html' title='Cebu-Bohol Trip'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-7759093655484858370</id><published>2009-07-24T18:11:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T01:34:42.228+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Break-even Point</title><content type='html'>Break-even Point.  In accounting, it is the point where you reach a certain level of sales where there is no loss and there is no gain.  A point where total sales equal the total expenses thus, profit is equal to zero.  But the computation is far more complicated than summarizing or adding total expenses then subtracting it from total sales. You have to understand the behavior of your costs which is affected by a variety of factors: capacity, price, volume etc.  To simplify there are assumptions regarding their relationships that assumed valid over the relevant range of activity and at a specified period of time.  When you exceeded the break-even point, you gain-- therefore, you win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In life sometimes you love someone but that someone doesn't love you back. And sometimes someone loves you but you don't love them in the same way.  Quits lang.  Even. (hmmm.. or isn't odd?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When two people break-up they try to get even, resorting to revenge, inflicting pain.  When someone scores a point he/she wins and the other loses.  Then there's a point where they'll reach the break-even and realized.... Nobody wins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My law professor once said that love and trust are two different things.  You may love someone but you may not trust him or her because love is for you to give and it is given freely but trust is up to the other person if he/she deserves to earn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is important to note that like the factors in computing the break-even point, truth is only true within the relevant range, within the relevant period of time.  It is the point where truth and honesty matter.  After such point everything to be said doesn't matter anymore. It becomes insignificant or worse tainted.  As time passes a new version of truth exist as this may already have been influenced by new information that changes or affirms prejudice, previous assumptions and then there's a thing called justification.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally and in business it has been said that you must learn to see and grab the opportunity otherwise you'll miss it and you lose.  The same with truth, we were given limited time and opportunity.  Grab it, otherwise you may never earn the trust and lose (it, him or her)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Break-even.  Got that point? Exceeded it? Or missed it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Suppressio veri expressio falsi"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-7759093655484858370?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/7759093655484858370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=7759093655484858370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7759093655484858370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7759093655484858370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/07/break-even-point.html' title='Break-even Point'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-3151365606075021336</id><published>2009-07-01T21:42:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T22:49:47.944+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Year that Was</title><content type='html'>It ends here.  You received enough shit. Too many second chances.  Looking back, you realized how pathetic it is, how ironic it is....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[some text missing]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they don't see you in their future, why bother? This is something they should realize on their own.&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;If that's the way they treat people, who is she to be treated differently?&lt;br /&gt;But still.....&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dr. Cuddy: Men are stupid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dr. House: I'm with you so far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer: The opinion expressed here are the views of the writer (of House) and do not necessarily reflect the views and opinion of pet's pensieve. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-0-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In just one click of a camera, just a second of a moment everything changes. And you'll be surprised of how someone, of how a moment can change your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You decided long ago that this is what you love to do, that these are the people you want to be with, that this is the place you want to be.  But one person, one huge emotion can change your life forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You love them but you have to leave them.   This is the life you've been dreaming but you have to forget it. You try to forget someone. And in order to succeed you have to give up everything else.  Quit your job, left some friends, and you have to bury a hobby you found.  A hobby you were excited to learn so much about until you let someone in. You have to leave because it reminds you so much of the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, you try to start a new life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wilson:  You're saying the pain don't go away?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cameron: It gets easier, not in two months, not in two years, but no, never really goes away"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- House, season  5  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-0-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every once in a while, a person needs to be alone&lt;br /&gt;Every once in a while, a person should find time to be alone&lt;br /&gt;To reflect, to meditate, to understand and realize if all is you, if everything else is what they seem, if you're on the right track and not blinded by the life's trap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;She was asked, " Can we still be friends?"&lt;br /&gt;And she said: You were asking me this now? I will not be a hypocrite that after all you said and done, we're okay, that I'm okay.  I cannot even wish you happiness but I cannot wish you pain either.  All I can hope is for you to get whatever it is you deserve.  In my lowest of times, in times when I needed a friend most you weren't there but instead you inflict more pain and further push me down. And it hurts even deeper that I want to work things out and you don't. And as long as it is a joke to you, no, we can't be friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you only have asked me what you really wanted to know then you would have gotten your answer.  Then you would have known that there's nothing to be jealous of and learned that there's no need to inflict pain.  But you love the mystery and the idea that "you know"..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;"Is it worth it?", she was asked.&lt;br /&gt;It should have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-3151365606075021336?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/3151365606075021336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=3151365606075021336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3151365606075021336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3151365606075021336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/07/year-that-was.html' title='The Year that Was'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-2314961373118931544</id><published>2009-06-30T03:16:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T03:25:18.580+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trees</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SkkUtSdhsrI/AAAAAAAAAEI/QsyrxhZz41M/s1600-h/DSC_0208.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SkkUtSdhsrI/AAAAAAAAAEI/QsyrxhZz41M/s200/DSC_0208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352832400388895410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Trees&lt;br /&gt;Joyce Kilmer - 1886-1918&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I THINK that I shall never see&lt;br /&gt;A poem lovely as a tree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tree whose hungry mouth is prest&lt;br /&gt;Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tree that looks at God all day,&lt;br /&gt;And lifts her leafy arms to pray;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tree that may in summer wear&lt;br /&gt;A nest of robins in her hair;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon whose bosom snow has lain;&lt;br /&gt;Who intimately lives with rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poems are made by fools like me,&lt;br /&gt;But only God can make a tree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-2314961373118931544?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/2314961373118931544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=2314961373118931544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2314961373118931544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2314961373118931544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/06/trees.html' title='Trees'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SkkUtSdhsrI/AAAAAAAAAEI/QsyrxhZz41M/s72-c/DSC_0208.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-1103395293489913734</id><published>2009-06-18T09:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T03:33:40.779+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stranded</title><content type='html'>He used to be the guy who isn't afraid to say and show how he feels, who isn't afraid to send cards, write poems, bring flowers to the girl he cared about. He used to be so gallant, and who doesn't care how far her girl lives and travels just to see and visit her.  But she had hurt him.  And he was broken... maybe, until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's been patient with her, been there for her.  Sometimes she feels he cares about her more than just a friend.  But everytime she catches him acting a little differently, he suddenly turns cold.  He wouldn't say a thing. He's waiting for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she has too much pride to make the first move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, there they are... just friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-1103395293489913734?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/1103395293489913734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=1103395293489913734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1103395293489913734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1103395293489913734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/06/stranded.html' title='Stranded'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-5914194855687130537</id><published>2009-04-20T20:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T04:03:31.983+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons and alibis</title><content type='html'>They say you can't serve two masters at the same time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why then are you doing this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am a freakin' lunatic&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It sort of releases any creative juices i might have. During class, I find myself doodling, creating sentences, verses...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;                     Career: Professional stalker&lt;br /&gt;                          Scene 1:  I was on my way home. As I was crossing Espana, I heard someone from behind me, "How's my lecture?".  It was one of the new reviewer in school and I do believe that he did great despite the little experience he has as a teacher.  Then he asked where I was going. I replied that I am going to Buendia. He said he was too.  Then, he asked " Are you taking the FX?".   I replied no. " Why not, when there's only a little difference in fare?".  Then I saw something in his hand. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Abort mission. Abort.&lt;/span&gt; He was really nice, and really made an effort for a little conversation. I was probably being mean but honestly, right now I am a little paranoid.&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh, I got to change career...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am a philantropist... and this is my foundation of choice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To be free&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Used to be for us, but now, who cares&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;So he won't have to lie anymore&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Because I can&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Is it right (hemisphere) then, Dr. Grey?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"We are all damaged, it seems" --- Grey's Anatomy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-5914194855687130537?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/5914194855687130537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=5914194855687130537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5914194855687130537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5914194855687130537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/04/reasons-and-alibis.html' title='Reasons and alibis'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-2990907786112637130</id><published>2009-03-13T23:17:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T23:40:17.581+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Six-word memoir</title><content type='html'>Six-word memoir is a telling of a story in six words. Hemingway was said to have done it. So, what's yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiny man. Huge ego. Overwhelming insecurities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found her match. He is taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And she said)&lt;br /&gt;Once a romantic. Now, certified cynic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He doesn't love her. She was just a passing fancy, an amusing, interesting thing to lighten up and entertain his boring, pathetic life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He doesn't love her, never did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He wasn't man enough to admit it.  He wasn't brave enough to tell the truth.  They are living their lives while you are stalling yours.  Unfair. You have to believe in something.  Anything. Live.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They've moved on. She should too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-2990907786112637130?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/2990907786112637130/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=2990907786112637130' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2990907786112637130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2990907786112637130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/03/six-words-memoir.html' title='Six-word memoir'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-4934123654725145152</id><published>2009-02-23T10:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T16:45:42.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Joker Wins</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Told myself I will not write for a while but...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:HeathJoker.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 190px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SaSo8874tgI/AAAAAAAAAD4/4XJjx1_6U4o/s200/HeathJoker.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306552026052212226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Heath Ledger as the Joker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The joker wins. They conceded. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I conceded.&lt;/span&gt; And I was teary-eyed as everybody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;... and this is the year that we're going to celebrate with or without the joker. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the 81st Annual Academy Awards and this time they made some changes...I love the way they introduced the presenters and nominees for the Best Supporting Actor/Actress and Best Actor/Actress. Previous winners of each category introduced each nominee. It's like passing down legacy...respect from one artist to another. Personalized. Hmmm. Best by far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the list of the winners &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(at least in the categories that I'm interested in :))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best Supporting Actor: Heath Ledger&lt;br /&gt;Best Supporting Actress: Penelope Cruz, Vicky Christina Barcelona&lt;br /&gt;Best Actor: Sean Pean, Milk&lt;br /&gt;Best Actress: Kate Winslet, The Reader&lt;br /&gt;Best Picture: Slumdog Millionaire&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-4934123654725145152?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/4934123654725145152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=4934123654725145152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4934123654725145152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4934123654725145152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2009/02/joker-wins.html' title='The Joker Wins'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SaSo8874tgI/AAAAAAAAAD4/4XJjx1_6U4o/s72-c/HeathJoker.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-2610429292742723030</id><published>2008-12-02T10:05:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T21:16:35.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Twilight</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When it rains, it pours..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How long will you wait? A month? A year? 10 years?&lt;br /&gt;And how long will you stay to find the middle ground?&lt;br /&gt;Is there a middle ground?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter what.. it's the closure I need. A closure we need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SYFo2x2I3KI/AAAAAAAAADo/itHTGTCL2KY/s1600-h/twilight.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SYFo2x2I3KI/AAAAAAAAADo/itHTGTCL2KY/s200/twilight.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296629927067049122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awake for more than twenty four hours, I finally decided to take the pill a friend gave me.  It didn't work. Nine hours later, at just about twilight, sleep finally came..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;... and the vampire sleeps..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How far would you go&lt;br /&gt;     How much would you risk&lt;br /&gt;     To search for truth&lt;br /&gt;     And for freedom to speak?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-2610429292742723030?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/2610429292742723030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=2610429292742723030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2610429292742723030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2610429292742723030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/12/twilight.html' title='Twilight'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SYFo2x2I3KI/AAAAAAAAADo/itHTGTCL2KY/s72-c/twilight.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-2597141494370121648</id><published>2008-11-28T16:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T14:25:47.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving day</title><content type='html'>This is to the one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;who picks you up in his tricycle when it's rainy and muddy outside because he knows you're in gown and in heels&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who shared things and secrets with you&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who texts you in the morning: "ok na volume ng tv namin" which means that he patched things up with someone&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who sewn your dress and made sure you won't embarass yourself&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who patiently teach you how to drive your car&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who accompanies you to the car repair shop&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who surprises you with something nice ( a website, a message, a gift)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who listens when you're all mushy and crying because you miss someone...but does not judge you&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who gives an honest advice, who is frank with you&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who drinks with you but never lets you make a fool of yourself&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who holds your hand, gives you a nice hug when you badly needed one&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who stays with you and have a good conversation with till the sun shines up in the morning because you can't get inside your house&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who welcomes you in her home, made you part of the family&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who tours you around unfamiliar place&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who gives joy to the unexpected&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who made something happen especially if it is one of your to-do-list-before-you-die&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who gives a little push when insecurities and doubts overwhelmed you&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who is courageous enough to say that he loves you and brave enough to say otherwise&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who made you sing onstage, even took a picture/video of you as a remembrance&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who makes a fool of himself just to make you laugh&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who debated with you for hours and sometimes lets you win&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who wrote letters, composed poems for you&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;who said: Be not afraid. I'll go before you always.  One day you shall laugh. Hahahahahaha! Like that!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;This is to the one i found and has found me.&lt;br /&gt;This is thanksgiving day&lt;br /&gt;And this is to a friend...and more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-2597141494370121648?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/2597141494370121648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=2597141494370121648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2597141494370121648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2597141494370121648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanksgiving-day.html' title='Thanksgiving day'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-1889303911917184121</id><published>2008-11-10T09:59:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T10:05:11.471+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Premonition</title><content type='html'>Last night, out of nowhere, I dreamt of someone -- a long lost friend. Someone I haven't seen and spoken for more than a decade.  Then today, as I open my email account I received a message from him.  Gee, my psychic ability is developing, I hope my spatial ability will be next.  Got to learn and memorize the Metro Manila Map. My navigator friend will go away soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-1889303911917184121?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/1889303911917184121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=1889303911917184121' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1889303911917184121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1889303911917184121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/11/premonition.html' title='Premonition'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-6134804753107444361</id><published>2008-11-05T23:01:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T09:49:56.412+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Comfort zone</title><content type='html'>These things comfort me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;a good nights sleep&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;watching my favorite tv series/movies&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a nice hug&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a good book&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;videoke marathon&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a good picture taken by me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a smile such as this...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"He smiled understandingly much more than understandingly.  It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it that you may come across four or five times in life.  It faced or seemed face: the whole eternal world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor.  It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that at your best, you hoped to convey"  - Anne by L.M. Montgomery&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;and this...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Final Analysis&lt;br /&gt;By Mother Theresa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered&lt;br /&gt; Forgive them anyway,&lt;br /&gt;If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;&lt;br /&gt; Be kind anyway&lt;br /&gt;If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;&lt;br /&gt; Succeed anyway&lt;br /&gt;If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;&lt;br /&gt; Be honest and frank anyway&lt;br /&gt;What you spend years building, someone could destroy ovenight;&lt;br /&gt; Build anyway&lt;br /&gt;If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;&lt;br /&gt; Be happy anyway&lt;br /&gt;The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;&lt;br /&gt; Be good anyway&lt;br /&gt;Give the world the best you have and it will never be enough&lt;br /&gt; Give the world the best you've got anyway&lt;br /&gt;You see, in the final analysis&lt;br /&gt; It is between you and God;&lt;br /&gt;  It was never between you and them anyway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;and the fact that I'm no saint&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;and I found this poem I wrote fifteen years ago&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I want to ride on a bus&lt;br /&gt;one moonlight night&lt;br /&gt;that runs carefully yet fast&lt;br /&gt;no traffic that will interrupt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, sail beyond the sea&lt;br /&gt;with the breeze of wind&lt;br /&gt;touch  my brownish skin&lt;br /&gt;and sway the strands of my hair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe, just lie on the shore&lt;br /&gt;and predict what the future instore&lt;br /&gt;learn--from the failures in the past&lt;br /&gt;rejoice -- to things I've done right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn. Suddenly, I'm hungry.  Got to grab something to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes you have to get out of your comfort zone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-6134804753107444361?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/6134804753107444361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=6134804753107444361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6134804753107444361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6134804753107444361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/11/comfort-zone.html' title='Comfort zone'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-8191718502174411207</id><published>2008-11-03T21:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T23:03:22.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken</title><content type='html'>She protected him from the possible wrath, insults of her family in the way that she knew how.  She knew it would hurt him for she understands the sensitivity of his heart. It could destroy him.  And it could destroy her.  She waited until she could prove something for herself and found the strength that could hold them both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the things that she protected him from, she received from him and his family.  And she learned how low, how little they thought she was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this something you want to be a part of?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...but like gravity, who you are reclaims you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-8191718502174411207?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/8191718502174411207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=8191718502174411207' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8191718502174411207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8191718502174411207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/11/broken.html' title='Broken'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-3086400822268024146</id><published>2008-11-02T16:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T09:37:49.816+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Warning</title><content type='html'>Intelligence powered by Google&lt;br /&gt;Perseverance motivated by lust&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop. Look. Listen.&lt;br /&gt;Parental Guidance is advised&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warning: Breakable inside&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-3086400822268024146?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/3086400822268024146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=3086400822268024146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3086400822268024146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3086400822268024146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/11/warning.html' title='Warning'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-2143868323278615569</id><published>2008-10-17T22:29:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T21:15:43.503+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Paradiso Tabuk</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SRJxxupmXlI/AAAAAAAAADE/aYXpjNJJVCM/s1600-h/Paradiso.Tabuk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SRJxxupmXlI/AAAAAAAAADE/aYXpjNJJVCM/s200/Paradiso.Tabuk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265396013499571794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several years ago, technology hasn't reached my hometown yet.  No cellphone, no cable, no internet.  It was the time when we were forced to live in an island we call "Tabuk" but other innovative folks preferred to call it "Paradise".  To get to "bayan" one needs to ride in a flatboat where the fare was Php1.50 or ride in a banca and paddle your way across the river.  The worst case scenario was when it's low tide because the flatboat will not be able to cross the river and dock to the wooden pier.  The only way you can go to "bayan" was to walk through a knee-deep mud.  And if you want your message relayed fast it was either you shout it as loud as you can..&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SRJyTlJcvpI/AAAAAAAAADM/wIVW2Dqqoy0/s1600-h/DSC_0030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SRJyTlJcvpI/AAAAAAAAADM/wIVW2Dqqoy0/s200/DSC_0030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265396595064356498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;."BANKAAA....!SUNDOOOO...!" or, ask someone to relay your message by word of mouth or hand them a simple note.  The possibility of communicating the wrong message was huge especially if you didn't know how to speak "bisaya" or the intermediary don't care at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With these scenarios, I didn't know how it was called Paradise.  Until...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't join my friends when they have night gimmicks, when I couldn't play the color game or watch the shows at the plaza when it's fiesta.  I have to go home before dark. The last trip for the flatboats was usually 7pm. That was when I became a freakin' Cinderella, well at least Cinderella could go home until 12 midnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, I was home and got nothing to do, I found myself in our own little hut near the shore, lost in thoughts....Oh, Cinderella! Cinderella! When will your prince come and rescue you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another day went by... and another...and another... no one came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost gave up then I thought maybe it's a different story... I'm not Cinderella.  I should just forget it.  Exhausted. I fell asleep in our "duyan".  That was when I became a Sleeping Beauty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I felt someone...something.. touched my face.  Rough.  It was definitely not a kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oy, gising! Tumulong ka don o! Madaming bumibili!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up and forget about Prince Charming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one afternoon I saw a banca coming towards me.. there were two guys.. I couldn't recognize who they were... closer...closer... clearer...clearer... and they were rowing using their slippers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my friends,Russel and Erick cheering me up in my little paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Years passed, and now, you can go to and from "bayan" anytime.  Here's Sablayan's own hanging 'San-Juanico-Bridge-to-somewhere'...to Paradise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Princes pass by any time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/ShQCGMmIqmI/AAAAAAAAAEA/BS7ojSArqWo/s1600-h/the+bridge.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 369px; height: 132px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/ShQCGMmIqmI/AAAAAAAAAEA/BS7ojSArqWo/s200/the+bridge.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337893763824527970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will take and replace it with better pictures soon...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-2143868323278615569?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/2143868323278615569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=2143868323278615569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2143868323278615569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2143868323278615569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/10/paradiso-tabuk.html' title='Paradiso Tabuk'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SRJxxupmXlI/AAAAAAAAADE/aYXpjNJJVCM/s72-c/Paradiso.Tabuk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-2644158718810352458</id><published>2008-10-05T09:15:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T10:50:39.211+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's little surprises</title><content type='html'>September marked the end of a seven-year relationship&lt;br /&gt;Broken promises&lt;br /&gt;In one moment of weakness, he was not strong enough for the both of them&lt;br /&gt;A wedding that's not going to happen&lt;br /&gt;(Maybe.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; padding: 0in 0in 1pt;"&gt;October brings a new beginning&lt;br /&gt;A solemn sunset wedding at Caleruega&lt;br /&gt;A reception at Antonio's Tagaytay&lt;br /&gt;He's 52, she's 38&lt;br /&gt;His first, her last&lt;br /&gt;(Hopefully)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's little surprises&lt;br /&gt;Who knows what tomorrow brings..&lt;br /&gt;We don't need to bother right now how it would turn out&lt;br /&gt;Except... which fork to use.. again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="border: medium none ; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; padding: 0in; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 153);font-family:Tahoma;font-size:10;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-2644158718810352458?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/2644158718810352458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=2644158718810352458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2644158718810352458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2644158718810352458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/10/lifes-little-surprises.html' title='Life&apos;s little surprises'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-6467124319016682162</id><published>2008-10-01T07:58:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T12:01:16.133+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's your greatest fear?</title><content type='html'>In a question and answer portion in one of the beauty pageants, one of the judges asked:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is your greatest fear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(the gist)&lt;br /&gt;Contestant No.1: My greatest fear is fear itself and having it at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contestant No.2: My greatest fear is not to bear a child, to end up with and marrying the wrong man, not necessarily in that order of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contestant No.3: My greatest fear is to become too independent I wouldn't need anyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contestant No.4: My greatest fear is to become the person I loathe to become&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contestant No.5: My greatest fear is to answer this question so wrongly for you, honorable judges to decide that i am not deserving enough to get the crown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She stopped crying. Yet. She's afraid that because she was badly hurt by someone, she will now hold back,  will be afraid to take risks, to trust, to be vulnerable, to care as much as she cared about him,  and accepts only whatever that is safe and mediocre, and the idea saddens her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-6467124319016682162?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/6467124319016682162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=6467124319016682162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6467124319016682162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6467124319016682162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/10/essence-of-being-woman.html' title='What&apos;s your greatest fear?'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-4266287654407809975</id><published>2008-09-15T09:42:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T13:51:20.085+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What do you know for sure?</title><content type='html'>Oprah was once asked, "What do you know for sure?" I will try to answer that myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know much about love.. but here it goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that you have to fight for someone you love, look like a fool for doing so and it is okay to cry.  But i also believe that you shouldn't let someone stripped-off of your self-respect or let someone abuse you.  I don't think that love has to have limitations but a person should.  I don't believe you have to force someone to love you back. Accept it. Love still. But he doesn't have the right to intentionally hurt you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admitting you love someone doesn't mean you made bad choices from your past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And.. I still remember those mottos written in white cartolina posted in my Grade school room wall.. "Honesty is the best policy".  Honesty is a double-edged sword.  Be careful when you use it.  It can free you but it  can also kill you especially if the other person is not strong enough to handle it. It can be used against you. Still, be honest with yourself. It is the least you can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know much, so I might change my mind tomorrow. But Gandhi sure does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"A coward is incapable of exhibiting love, it is the prerogative of the brave" -Mahatma Gandhi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Same with honesty, i guess.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you are a one brave girl, V.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PUPN504.. Fifteen years and we're still here...through thick and thin.  Weeeh!  We wish you all the best. This is to hope and a future. Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-4266287654407809975?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/4266287654407809975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=4266287654407809975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4266287654407809975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4266287654407809975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-do-you-know-for-sure.html' title='What do you know for sure?'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-2870216285520519528</id><published>2008-09-05T07:38:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T21:31:12.482+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good food, good friends, and much more</title><content type='html'>Daddy Jerry cooked for me his specialty &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;laing&lt;/span&gt; ( the only &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;laing&lt;/span&gt; I could eat, swear!) Delicious!  He did it for me. Cool! My officemates and I can't get enough of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My inbox was swamped with messages from friends and relatives everywhere.  And a  much awaited get together with friends afterwards, and the first time we've ridden Benedict's new InnovaE (with matching "open-the-door-gentleman-effect"). We ate dinner at Good Earth, The Fort and much later a nice treat from Benedict. It's a concert baby. And it's mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"..You deserve to be treated better.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weehah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Grace. I'm blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-2870216285520519528?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/2870216285520519528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=2870216285520519528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2870216285520519528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2870216285520519528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/09/good-food-good-friends-and.html' title='Good food, good friends, and much more'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-7423574023526323915</id><published>2008-09-04T08:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T15:56:48.099+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grace period</title><content type='html'>My grace period lasted 4 days and it ended at 4:40pm, September 3, 2008. What a present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, nothing lasts forever. Some things just never going to change. Ironic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-0-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-7423574023526323915?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/7423574023526323915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=7423574023526323915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7423574023526323915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7423574023526323915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/09/grace-period.html' title='Grace period'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-4807720301131172688</id><published>2008-08-07T23:51:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T14:32:06.741+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Infected</title><content type='html'>How can you make it, if everything else is interesting except this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are in the middle of reading a book about bonds.. then suddenly you come across this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem 1: How much interest expense should be recorded for the year 2008?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonds...interest expense.. You searched from your memory bank..Darn. Maybe it is bankrupt.  Think again.  Interest..interest..hmmm.. travel? Compute..compute..I have no more money to spend...poor me.. Oh! I still haven't read the new book of Coelho... I got to buy the book, Lincoln by David Herbert Donald but it is freakin' worth Php1,449.00 at Powerbooks.  Expensive.  I got to save...delayed project arrrg!...Mia is inviting for a little get together, last bonding with tin before she leaves for Canada...snap..snap... you wasted another 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside, the rain won't stop.  Maybe there's a new typhoon.. so you switched on the TV hoping to get news about the weather (maybe Buendia-Pasong Tamo has already turned into a 'Pacific Ocean' again).  But you missed the first half of Kuya Kim's segment, he is now talking about some endangered specie or something. You channel surf and news are about the SWS survey, Pulse Asia survey, everything against the government, corruption and every commercial break a teaser about the '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;artistas'&lt;/span&gt;..'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;abangan, sa pagbabalik ng.&lt;/span&gt;..'. No teaser about the weather? None. So you channel surf again... and then there she is... Helen (Lara Flynn Boyle)...hypnotizing you... and you're hooked..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Helen: Yes.  The law does protect spouses from giving testimony against each other but there is no such immunity when it comes to father and son, and they don't get to just make up a law because in their minds the love is just as powerful.  What's at stake here is the integrity of this process.  He committed perjury, he lied under oath and if we tolerate it we have to consider the worst-case scenario, the day may come where witnesses lie to help free premeditated murderers.  This case, this case is the worst-case scenario. A murderer is walking free because the defendant committed perjury.  Your Honor, you and I.. you and I walk into this courtroom everyday without clients.  In essence, we work for the room. What he did to this room...and technicalities and fourth amendments.. He killed her and stuffed her in a closet. He killed a nun! He...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ellenor: Helen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Helen: I'm sorry.  He, he lied.  We work for the room, Your Honor.  We work for the room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-The Practice, Season III Episode Title: "Infected" (1999)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Episode Written by David E. Kelly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward.  Judge sentence? 20 years for perjury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsk..tsk..tsk..Be careful when you lie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Focus... if X lies in...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;blah..blah.. blah&lt;/span&gt;..within the relevant range... stay away from the....gone..gone...gone..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this Fox Crime Channel is also airing reruns of CSI, CSI Miami and CSI New York.  You're addicted.... if only you could get a drug that would make you get addicted to accounting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You open the book again.  One more try... and then, an idea won't escape you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you find yourself writing about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-4807720301131172688?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/4807720301131172688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=4807720301131172688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4807720301131172688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4807720301131172688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/08/infected.html' title='Infected'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-8953459557567024860</id><published>2008-07-09T10:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T11:47:13.029+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready to be Extraordinary</title><content type='html'>You set yourself up for a life that is ordinary, fearing that if you don't your friends will walk away from you. Afraid you'd  become so different you can no longer relate to everyone. Alienated. Grown too far apart with someone that they would no longer love you back or become uncomfortable just being with you.  But life wants you to be and experience a life  more than the ordinary-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly, but surely...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-8953459557567024860?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/8953459557567024860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=8953459557567024860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8953459557567024860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8953459557567024860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/07/ready-to-be-extraordinary.html' title='Ready to be Extraordinary'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-7604185657703513007</id><published>2008-07-04T14:46:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T15:53:04.705+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life on hold</title><content type='html'>Got lots of ideas, but I couldn't think&lt;br /&gt;So much to say, but I couldn't speak&lt;br /&gt;In the four corners of a cube&lt;br /&gt;Locked down, frozen, I couldn't move&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-7604185657703513007?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/7604185657703513007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=7604185657703513007' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7604185657703513007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7604185657703513007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/07/life-on-hold.html' title='Life on hold'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-40286216824423631</id><published>2008-06-19T10:09:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T11:22:31.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Curse</title><content type='html'>You cursed me once and now I'm living it&lt;br /&gt;But you're still the one that saves me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(or maybe not)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way it hurts&lt;br /&gt;Either way we lose&lt;br /&gt;But I don't hate you&lt;br /&gt;After all, you're still you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I cared that much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-40286216824423631?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/40286216824423631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=40286216824423631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/40286216824423631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/40286216824423631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/06/curse.html' title='Curse'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-1636691811038824128</id><published>2008-05-30T09:25:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:04:31.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If</title><content type='html'>I have been to Batanes and was overwhelmed with the sceneries. I bought a Nikon D40 (which  nearly made me broke) in anticipation for the trip but it was all worth it.  My friends  and I couldn't  stop clicking the camera and  I was, as my cousin said, feeling &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"propeyshunal"&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of my favorite shots taken by my friend. If a picture paints a thousand words what story would this picture hold...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SEidqmyRN5I/AAAAAAAAACA/3I57qfQ7Xmk/s1600-h/windows+xp.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SEidqmyRN5I/AAAAAAAAACA/3I57qfQ7Xmk/s200/windows+xp.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208586324345436050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...on my own...&lt;br /&gt;...walking away...&lt;br /&gt;...far and away...&lt;br /&gt;...better in time...&lt;br /&gt;...the frontier...&lt;br /&gt;...into the light/away from the shadow...&lt;br /&gt;...going home...&lt;br /&gt;...sleep walking...&lt;br /&gt;..."I never saved for the swim back"...-(Gattaca,1997)&lt;br /&gt;...faceless...&lt;br /&gt;...windows xp plus...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"talikodgenic"&lt;/span&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...she couldn't explain, she couldn't prove anything--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;         but for all her love she couldn't go with Stripe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;                                         -Hope for the Flowers by Trina Paulus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-1636691811038824128?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/1636691811038824128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=1636691811038824128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1636691811038824128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1636691811038824128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/06/if.html' title='If'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/SEidqmyRN5I/AAAAAAAAACA/3I57qfQ7Xmk/s72-c/windows+xp.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-8461919181564796152</id><published>2008-04-18T08:14:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T21:43:12.307+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fashion Statement</title><content type='html'>The things you were deprived of are the things you later tend to have some fetish over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elementary graduation:&lt;br /&gt;light blue coloots shorts topped with white t-shirt with mickey mouse cartoon character&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oratorial Contest:&lt;br /&gt;Something borrowed- my aunt's dress in the '80s, with big shoulder pads. (And I was like 85lbs! And it was a Regional Contest, mind you.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JS Prom:&lt;br /&gt;Hand me down from my aunt- striped tailored blazer with matching skirt. (duh! I'm not even going to a corporate office yet, I'm going to my JS prom!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Highschool graduation:&lt;br /&gt;Same old clothes - I'm too engrossed with my so-called future (or lack of it being clueless and all), meaning college to even remember the details. Or was it my school uniform? Hmm.. now I wonder..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;College graduation:&lt;br /&gt;The same dress my sister wore  on  her graduation just two weeks before mine.  (and she's 10lbs heavier than me. And i got photos to prove it, a complete &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;deja vu&lt;/span&gt; minus the medal. My sisters and cousins laugh about it a lot.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These were just a few significant moments that I want to be presentable at least but as they say you got to do what you got to do so I did and just make do with  what I have. I have this mantra after college "When I get a job, I'll buy lots of clothes".  Job came and money went with it but there's a lot more important matters than clothes.  I'd rather invest in more important things...umm  like what? shoes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning, a friday, a no-uniform day. (Glad.) I decided to make an audit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I have audited the following cabinets of PET as of April 18, 2008 and the related statements of events, schedule of activities, plans, getaways; changes in equity, changes in (love, life, career) status and cash flows for the year then ended.  The statements are the responsibility of ME. My responsibility is to express an opinion on these statement based on my audit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I conducted my audit...xxxxx xxxx xxx xx x&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I have my share of assets and liabilities and I can say that I have a balanced fashion statement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Notes and Disclosure:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The audit is conducted with professional skepticism, objectivity, integrity, due care and independence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;The things you were deprived of are the things you later tend to have some fetish over?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-8461919181564796152?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/8461919181564796152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=8461919181564796152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8461919181564796152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8461919181564796152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/04/fashion-statement.html' title='Fashion Statement'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-6875053958426553927</id><published>2008-04-08T08:38:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T14:26:37.465+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing you..</title><content type='html'>"You know someone told me, that when someone dies, or someone goes away if they stay in your heart, then they're always with you.  Maybe that's why after all these years you still have power over me.  It is not something you know, it's something I gave you, without your consent, without your knowledge, and you're unconsciously using it in my pain, in my resentment"  - Golda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So true. I miss you. And I'm sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-6875053958426553927?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/6875053958426553927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=6875053958426553927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6875053958426553927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6875053958426553927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/04/power.html' title='Missing you..'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-5988784876043844855</id><published>2008-03-29T18:49:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T23:44:20.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking away or sticking it out</title><content type='html'>A friend said: Run as fast as you can as early as possible.  It's a no-win situation and it would just hurt your heart in the process. No talent. No future. Not enough.&lt;br /&gt;But you stayed for reasons you don't know, for reasons you didn't bother to find out.&lt;br /&gt;Johnny said follow your heart and see where it will lead you.&lt;br /&gt;But what if you already knew where it will lead you? Will you turn and walk away? It seems the logical thing to do.  Is it foolish to go to a place where you knew would only lead you to a broken heart?  Or is it brave to go through with it still?  Inspiration or ego, which is which?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excerpts from Coelho's blog :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Wasn't my dream to be a writer?  Then I must continue creating sentences, paragraphs, chapters, and go on writing until I die, and not allow myself to get caught in such traps as success or failure.  Otherwise, what meaning does my life have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shaken by these alarming thoughts, I find a strength and a courage I didn't know  I had: they help me to venture into an unknown part of my soul.  I let myself be swept along by the current and finally anchor my boat at the island I was being carried towards.  I spend days and nights describing what I see, wondering why I'm doing this, telling myself that it's really not worth the pain and effort, that I don't need to prove anything to anyone, that I've got what I wanted and far more than I ever dreamed of having.&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I wrote The Zahir, the main character says exactly the same thing: writing is getting lost at sea.  It's discovering your own untold story and trying to share it with others.  It's realising, when you show it to people you have never seen, what is in your own soul.  In the book, a famous writer on spiritual matters, who believes he has everything, loses the thing that is most precious to him: love.  I have always wondered what would happen to a man if he had no one to dream about, and now I am answering that question myself.&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the characters in Bertold Brecht's play "The Good Person of Szechuan" tells us about true love:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to be next to the one I love.&lt;br /&gt;I don't care what this will cost me.&lt;br /&gt;I don't care whether this will do my life good or bad.&lt;br /&gt;I don't care whether this person loves me or not.&lt;br /&gt;All I want, all I need is to be close to the one I love"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;I am writing (as if!)... and reading/reviewing again... and helping a project...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;My dear cousin passed the bar exam. Yahoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;A friend is in a unique relationship, one that is  probably looked down by society.  10 years... and still counting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;Fleur broke up with his boyfriend (again) for the same reason, his boyfriend lied and cheated on her. Who knows if she'll welcome him back again or will let him go for real.. and.. or.. maybe, love herself more. But for now, we'll belt out the heartaches in a song.  That's what videoke bars are here for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;Tetet will get married this May.. and I am going to be the maid of honor.  I witnessed how their love affair started to blossom and how it becomes as it is today. Nice story. I am so excited I already have a speech in mind but of course I'm not going to post it here today..surprise..surprise.. surprise. Yeah, it's a nice speech, definitely from the heart, whatever shape it is now..hmm..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;Walking away or sticking it out?  Maybe, if you stayed long enough you'll find out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-5988784876043844855?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/5988784876043844855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=5988784876043844855' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5988784876043844855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5988784876043844855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/03/walking-away-or-sticking-it-out.html' title='Walking away or sticking it out'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-6537181367544283344</id><published>2008-03-06T08:56:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T12:33:30.514+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Advertisement</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golda strikes again straight through the heart.  What child is this? Hehe :)&lt;br /&gt;Advertise..advertise...advertise...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a name&lt;br /&gt;By Golda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what it's in a name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's all the terrible&lt;br /&gt;and wonderful,&lt;br /&gt;impossibilities and possibilities&lt;br /&gt;that each letter holds,&lt;br /&gt;every promise&lt;br /&gt;in every lovable,&lt;br /&gt;meaningless syllable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its sound, how it rolls&lt;br /&gt;round my tongue;&lt;br /&gt;its taste and texture&lt;br /&gt;oh how it makes me&lt;br /&gt;all giggly.&lt;br /&gt;and fluttery&lt;br /&gt;and totally&lt;br /&gt;mad, crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's in a name?&lt;br /&gt;in it, within it&lt;br /&gt;are my dreams,&lt;br /&gt;and my hearts desire-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you say his name, yet&lt;br /&gt;you're not calling &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt;, but still&lt;br /&gt;my cheeks burn&lt;br /&gt;and my eyes stray-&lt;br /&gt;and it burns, it burns&lt;br /&gt;yet&lt;br /&gt;i like the way it burns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-6537181367544283344?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/6537181367544283344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=6537181367544283344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6537181367544283344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6537181367544283344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/03/advertisement.html' title='Advertisement'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-626100169086742653</id><published>2008-03-04T13:50:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T12:36:49.767+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Conspiracy Theory</title><content type='html'>He made you blush&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;    when all is young and motorcycles give you rush&lt;br /&gt;when just a smile makes your day complete&lt;br /&gt;and you wished...oh!.. he should have been...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one, but the hope never came&lt;br /&gt;and the other came along&lt;br /&gt;friendship blooms so true and real&lt;br /&gt;someday, maybe.. he would have been...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one, but someone crashes in&lt;br /&gt;your heart, your mind, and everything's in between&lt;br /&gt;life unfolds, life stands still&lt;br /&gt;baby, you could have been...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one true thing is, it's all a might have been&lt;br /&gt;and you were left in the middle...wondering&lt;br /&gt;all have touched your heart, all have made you cry&lt;br /&gt;(there's a reason for everything, so stop asking why)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-0-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...the pain of that ending will eventually stop, although you will probably always bear a little scar-- that scar will not be a symbol of defeat or suffering but a point of pride of having lived through something, survived and flourished...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-0-&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/8313553490983159655-626100169086742653?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/626100169086742653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=626100169086742653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/626100169086742653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/626100169086742653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/03/conspiracy-theory.html' title='Conspiracy Theory'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-8737525774050385849</id><published>2008-02-29T21:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T12:49:20.874+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All over again</title><content type='html'>How's this for a wedding vow? As if!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love the ground under his feet and the air over his head and everything he touches and every word he says.  I love all his looks and all his actions and him entirely and altogether"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;--Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm..(",)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while the rest of the world..err..Philippines... is planning to throw GMA out of office, I have given myself a break (again?!) of all the boring (accounting) books.  This just made my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Johnny said he read this book ten times! He is romantic.  Doesn't matter if he lost to Daniel-Day Lewis for Best Actor in the Academy Awards, he definitely won my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha! As if! Ok, back to earth. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-8737525774050385849?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/8737525774050385849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=8737525774050385849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8737525774050385849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8737525774050385849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/02/all-over-again.html' title='All over again'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-7646139623130411187</id><published>2008-02-13T22:47:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T09:52:54.191+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wasting time</title><content type='html'>"I wished I was there with someone who could bring peace to my heart-- someone with whom I could spend a little time with without being afraid that I would lose him the next day" -- Paulo Coelho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired. Really tired.  I need a vacation. Whew! I'm supposed to be somewhere else doing things I am supposed to do, but here I am doing this: blogging, solving crossword puzzles and sudoku, making up riddles, reading Coelho (almost simultaneously) and quoting him.. haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm exhausted, and I don't want to think..just be numb for awhile..wait...  ooops... here's another good one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't try to convince anyone of anything.  When you don't know something, ask or go away and find out.  But when you do act, be like the silent flowing river and open yourself to greater energy.  Believe that you can."--Paulo Coelho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the message?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...be like the silent...be like the silent...be like the silent...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! It's telling me to go to bed. Believe that I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for the things I got to do on weekend?  Believe that I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha, I'm not making any sense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-7646139623130411187?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/7646139623130411187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=7646139623130411187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7646139623130411187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7646139623130411187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/02/wasting-time.html' title='Wasting time'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-7465473420374175888</id><published>2008-01-31T08:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T12:03:12.628+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Search of a Superpower</title><content type='html'>In Ateneo, Starbucks was the place to be and for some it still is.  It is where students get-together for group meetings, do assignments, hangout, chat, drink some coffee, smoke, drink some beer or just sit there and pass the time. And in one of those conversations (Me, Yong, Ariel and Nyoy), Yong asked: "If you have a choice, what power would you like to have?".  And we blurted out..the power of spiderman, the power of superman...no, the ability to read the future, the power to freeze time...and so on.  Then Ariel said, "How about the power to read people's mind, because if I knew what one was thinking I would know what to do.  If he's planning to kill me, or try to manipulate me then I would know how to react and defend myself".  But then we argued that people can conceal what's on their mind.  People can disguise and control what they are thinking so that when you are reading them, it's totally a different thing.  However, if you have the power of good judgment, how can you go wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you would never know how long we were sitting there and how many cups of coffee or bottles of beer we drank, or how many packs of cigarettes we smoked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-7465473420374175888?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/7465473420374175888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=7465473420374175888' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7465473420374175888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7465473420374175888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/01/in-search-of-superpower.html' title='In Search of a Superpower'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-8265782144030126751</id><published>2008-01-30T08:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T08:50:11.572+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Living</title><content type='html'>Just in..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received from Mia the following messages. One of those forwarded messages that sticks to the mind and speaks to the soul. One that is so cool to share to the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Important things that we should remember in life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you have to forget the rules, follow your heart and see where it takes you.&lt;br /&gt;Never apologize for saying what you feel because that's just saying sorry for being real.&lt;br /&gt;Never regret anything you said or did, because at some point in your life, it was what you wanted.&lt;br /&gt;True strength is being able to hold it all together when everyone else is expecting you to fall apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Mia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and Johnny seconded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whattt??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, he speaks to me.  Just got a call.  I'm not hallucinating, am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hi, Johnny! What shall I do? How do you decide when there are a lot of choices out there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny Depp: I am doing things that are true to me. The only thing I have a problem with is being labeled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Johnny Depp: Just do what you want, just do what you need to do for you. Don't ever get to a place where you have regrets.  Don't regret doing something for somebody.  Do what you need to do for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Thanks, Johnny!&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I so love Johnny Depp.  ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-8265782144030126751?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/8265782144030126751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=8265782144030126751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8265782144030126751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8265782144030126751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-living.html' title='Happy Living'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-3927399724120424541</id><published>2008-01-29T17:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T16:13:01.332+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Answer</title><content type='html'>It was supposed to be my entry last January1 titled Closure:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time tells who your real friends are, time heals all wounds, time tells which was and is true love, time tells who you can become.  Time has been my ally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what the heck, there's no better time than now. It's not always a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time discloses truth... yes, and I got mine today. Sad and liberating at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-0-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...on a different plane...&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Truth That Lied (Aug 18, '07)&lt;br /&gt;By Golda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the beautiful, painful lie that I loved&lt;br /&gt;You are true, and yet your promises are lies&lt;br /&gt;You are the song that brought me to life, (but not to light)&lt;br /&gt;You sing of happy truths behind your gentle eyes&lt;br /&gt;You kissed like you mean it, you loved like you want it&lt;br /&gt;But you lie, you lie, you lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the only lie which sounds so true&lt;br /&gt;(That's why I always believed in you.)&lt;br /&gt;But you're still the only lie that made me smile&lt;br /&gt;And you're the only truth that made me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Golda, I'll post it here na baka i-delete mo ulit sa blog mo. Hahaha. Love it. I'm such a freakin' fan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-3927399724120424541?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/3927399724120424541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=3927399724120424541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3927399724120424541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3927399724120424541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/01/answer.html' title='The Answer'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-2462531491890424459</id><published>2008-01-23T13:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T15:57:16.413+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Eulogy</title><content type='html'>I hate the way you talk to me&lt;br /&gt;And the way you cut your hair&lt;br /&gt;I hate the way you drive my car&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you stare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate your big dumb combat boots&lt;br /&gt;And the way you read my mind&lt;br /&gt;I hate you so much that it makes me sick&lt;br /&gt;It even makes me rhyme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the way you're always right&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you lie&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when you make me laugh&lt;br /&gt;Even worse when you make me cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the way you're not around&lt;br /&gt;And the fact that you didn't call&lt;br /&gt;But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you&lt;br /&gt;Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Julia Stiles, 10 Things I Hate About You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-0-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the state we're in. From a fan to you. I'm so goddamn speechless, so this just sums it all up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-0-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:100%;color:black;"   &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Helvetica;color:black;"  &gt;&lt;a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://www.dashpoemmovie.com/"&gt;http://www.dashpoemmovie.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-2462531491890424459?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/2462531491890424459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=2462531491890424459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2462531491890424459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2462531491890424459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/01/eulogy.html' title='A Eulogy'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-8966194758400361620</id><published>2008-01-17T08:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T09:34:55.977+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitten</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;...I'm scared i'm always going to be somebody's friend, or sister, or confidant [or somebody who cheers them up when they're bored], not quite somebody's everything...-Dawson's Creek&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't tell me you love me when you don't&lt;br /&gt;Don't feel me just because you're bored&lt;br /&gt;Heart be still...you know his kind&lt;br /&gt;Be cool, don't judge..don't be blind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-8966194758400361620?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/8966194758400361620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=8966194758400361620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8966194758400361620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8966194758400361620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/01/bitten.html' title='Bitten'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-3358371428230820483</id><published>2007-12-16T12:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T12:10:53.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Diaspora II</title><content type='html'>My "kumare" went back here in the Philippines last November to pick up her children and join them in New Zealand.  One day in a cold NZ December, her  nine year old son told her:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: Mommy, malamig pala dito.  Kung malamig lang pala gusto niyo e di sana nag-Baguio na lang tayo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy: Anak, wala kaming trabaho ni Papa mo doon sa Pinas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: E pano, pag nawalan kayo ng trabaho, lilipat tayo ulit?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-3358371428230820483?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/3358371428230820483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=3358371428230820483' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3358371428230820483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3358371428230820483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2008/12/diaspora-ii.html' title='Diaspora II'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-4060771295663207107</id><published>2007-12-11T15:15:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T09:40:01.336+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Diaspora</title><content type='html'>My "kumare" migrated to New Zealand this year.&lt;br /&gt;My cousin left to work in Jeddah after his bar exam.&lt;br /&gt;A month and a half after my sister joined her husband in Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks after, Pipes received his working visa and soon thereafter board the plane to Riyadh.&lt;br /&gt;Then, yesterday Robert's on his way to work overseas again.&lt;br /&gt;And Vicky will be spending her Christmas vacation in Washington DC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh! I need to go out! I need some air....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-0-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just talked to Grace from Vietnam, she'll be coming home for the holidays.  Whew!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-4060771295663207107?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/4060771295663207107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=4060771295663207107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4060771295663207107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4060771295663207107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2007/12/diaspora.html' title='Diaspora'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-5697767015735037822</id><published>2007-10-30T22:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T03:19:55.674+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unconditional Love</title><content type='html'>I have read the following on the internet..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Think it’s very possible.. I am in love with someone who I know doesn’t love me back in the same way… and I’m still always going to have those feelings for him even though all we’ll ever be is just friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it made me think..and I wonder.. is it possible?  Guess, I’ll agree. It is possible. Kudos to the one who wrote it, the message is so unconditional… so loving.. full of acceptance…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-5697767015735037822?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/5697767015735037822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=5697767015735037822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5697767015735037822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5697767015735037822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2007/10/unconditional-love.html' title='Unconditional Love'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-4240604995367350293</id><published>2007-08-13T22:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T03:17:56.174+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doctor’s Diagnosis: The Inconvenient Truth</title><content type='html'>Symptoms:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr.: So what's it with you this time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: A few months ago, I felt this kind of feeling...kind of awkwardness, there was a twitching in my feet and hands..my heart beat faster then I froze, my mouth and throat went dry.. I couldn't speak...my mind went blank and I felt paralyzed. Did I have a mild stroke, Doc?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr.: Maybe. Maybe it's acute panic anxiety reaction. We'll see after you have an MRI. Go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Then, I felt okay as if nothing happened so I postponed going to Makati Med. I am amused of all the new sensations I am now feeling; I'm jumpy and I laugh a lot at very little things as if there is something tickling me. But there are times when I feel sad.. well, more of longing for something..so I took this drug which the ad said makes Piolo and Angel complete.  And I feel different. It is amazing…and puzzling at the same time. It is as if I am in someplace else, doing something else..being with someone else.  Most of the time my mind is wandering, wondering..bordering on dreamy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr.:  What drugs are you taking now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Here, I am only taking this. It's been six months since I took Virlix for my asthma. Hmm.. could it be possible Doc, that it has a hallucegenic and amphetamine like properties?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diagnosis:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr.: (took the pill and examined it) Hmmm… Where did you buy this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: At a small pharmacy near my place. I just told the lady at the counter to give me the drug that makes people complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr.: When did you start taking this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: Four months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr.: This is bad..very bad.. maybe a lot of complications…You should probably take a blood test…an angiogram..No..a full body scan..definitely a brain scan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: What is it doc?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr.:  Hmm..a disease mostly affects women…. a viral infection.. usually airborne..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P: ..I-Is it curable?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr.: Yes and No. When you said 'someone else'…in your "high" times..isn't it the same person..everytime? Probably someone older, lanky, with absurd ideas… ok fine..witty or whatever, has a weird walk and…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patient: Uhmm..sort of..yeah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. House: A love bug. Go home. Get some sleep. Spray some insecticide in your home or whatever, just don't bother me anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-4240604995367350293?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/4240604995367350293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=4240604995367350293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4240604995367350293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4240604995367350293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2007/08/doctors-diagnosis-inconvenient-truth.html' title='Doctor’s Diagnosis: The Inconvenient Truth'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-1038414455678554695</id><published>2007-07-31T22:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T03:14:36.062+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fallin' in love</title><content type='html'>Catch me... I'm fallin'!.. Where's my  portkey? Ugh! Fine. I'll just Disapparate… soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry saves the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-0-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's a roller coaster ride of a torrid non-affair." - Golda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouch! Perfect. This is a classic Golda. Classic. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-1038414455678554695?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/1038414455678554695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=1038414455678554695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1038414455678554695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1038414455678554695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2007/07/fallin-in-love.html' title='Fallin&apos; in love'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-8340916204384492994</id><published>2007-07-10T22:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T03:12:54.602+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Me.. Anatomy</title><content type='html'>"See, once in a while, once in a blue moon people will surprise you....and once in a while people may even take your breath away"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't like someone who doesn't like me but if there's a slightest chance that he does, I'm not leaving [Philippines (duh?)] Seattle"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's not so important that it's a happy ever after...just that it's happy right now"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The fact that we're still standing is reason enough to celebrate"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----all quoted from Grey's Anatomy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darn. I'm so hooked on Grey's, and my own freaking McDreamy, McCareer, McLife..Do I have one or is it just a MockDreamy, MockCareer, MockLife..?.Hmmm. this is me wondering...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-8340916204384492994?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/8340916204384492994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=8340916204384492994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8340916204384492994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/8340916204384492994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2007/07/me-anatomy.html' title='Me.. Anatomy'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-5226844101559905346</id><published>2007-07-09T23:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:04:31.611+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wimbledon 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/RzilGq3GS2I/AAAAAAAAABA/WCmBiGacJro/s1600-h/dalFed_017_prosport_s_wake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/RzilGq3GS2I/AAAAAAAAABA/WCmBiGacJro/s400/dalFed_017_prosport_s_wake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132033309391866722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Federer and Nadal on grass. What a sight! So nerve-wracking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-5226844101559905346?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/5226844101559905346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=5226844101559905346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5226844101559905346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5226844101559905346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2007/07/wimbledon-2007.html' title='Wimbledon 2007'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/RzilGq3GS2I/AAAAAAAAABA/WCmBiGacJro/s72-c/dalFed_017_prosport_s_wake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-6007611596571978512</id><published>2006-12-27T22:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T03:07:56.654+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The break-up</title><content type='html'>Breaking up is so hard to do.  Yes. It finally hit me. Hard. It wasn't easy on the day, the hour, the very minute you're in that moment. It is even harder when you knew it was coming, just waiting to be said that it is over. And it is a torture days after. And even so if you do not know the reason why. There are a lot of whys, what ifs, and maybes.  You try to justify but is not enough, the real answer is still out there. And you feel all sorts of emotions simultaneously: anger, pity, longing, betrayal, felt you were treated unfairly because you were not trusted enough, felt helpless because you can't do anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-6007611596571978512?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/6007611596571978512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=6007611596571978512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6007611596571978512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6007611596571978512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2006/12/break-up.html' title='The break-up'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-4112707897535406923</id><published>2006-11-01T22:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T09:41:55.029+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Carving stories</title><content type='html'>What’s your purpose in life?  Do you ever question that? You wake up everyday, making choices what this day will be.  Sometimes you decide to do the same. Go to work. Go home. Watch TV. Eat. Sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of it all, when you’re already six feet below the ground… generations will pass and no one will remember you.  But the story you left behind is all what’s left about you.  How do you want your life to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lie. You tell a different story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The choice is yours. We’re here carving stories. Others have the talent putting it on paper or on the world wide web while others are satisfied that they made a difference on somebody else’s life.  Some may not even know that they already did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-4112707897535406923?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/4112707897535406923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=4112707897535406923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4112707897535406923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4112707897535406923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2006/11/carving-stories.html' title='Carving stories'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-36252539282177713</id><published>2006-10-16T22:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T03:04:25.032+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chant</title><content type='html'>I saw the movie The Craft (yap, an old movie) last night on DVD, and I thought I make one chant myself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Erase the bad thoughts that crossed the mind&lt;br /&gt;Erase whatever doubts that left behind&lt;br /&gt;The power of the will and the good within&lt;br /&gt;Will bring positive energy in this surrounding and in me. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, is it working?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-36252539282177713?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/36252539282177713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=36252539282177713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/36252539282177713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/36252539282177713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2006/10/chant.html' title='Chant'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-5630323055520895848</id><published>2006-09-26T22:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T03:02:05.221+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crushes...crashes down on me</title><content type='html'>Someone’s playing a trick on me.  And it’s quite a nice trick. What could be cooler than today! I just saw my three crushes, almost simultaneously within the last two hours. Aside from that, they smiled, talked and even made a joke to me.  Well, except for the other one.  The snob! Alright…alright he’s forgiven. (haha!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I got three crushes. What does that mean?  Just that there are a lot of nice and good looking people in the world. At least today… in this part of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, listen… can you hear the music playing?  “…La..lalalala..lalalala.. Oh! What a wonderful world…“  c”,)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-5630323055520895848?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/5630323055520895848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=5630323055520895848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5630323055520895848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5630323055520895848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2006/09/crushescrashes-down-on-me.html' title='Crushes...crashes down on me'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-4442289485765989084</id><published>2006-06-29T23:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T14:32:07.200+08:00</updated><title type='text'>David Sedaris and me</title><content type='html'>I am in love with a gay man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it about gay, and being gay and witty? When in history the term male homosexual transcends from a negative term queer to a more positive term gay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The poster screams: David Sedaris Talk Pretty in Manila!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to miss it! I promised myself. So, at 2:15 in the afternoon I went to Powerbooks, Greenbelt and lined up to get my numbered stub.   The live reading started at 5pm. And I am not disappointed.  His books are funny but he is even funnier in person.  Though standing, Ella and I had fun.  He read some parts of his book and some journal entries from 2003. He talked about his experience in Bruno's Salon and how he lost his money on a cockfight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Book signing followed at 6pm.  Oh! Long was the queue.  And I couldn't help but wonder what David Sedaris would write when he sign the books.  Is it going to be "Goodluck!" or is it going to be "God bless!". You know, the usual messages when you asked a celebrity for an autograph. While waiting for our turn, the host raffled some prizes. Ella's number was called. While she took her prize, the host announced another number.. 227.  Hey! It was mine! We were lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 7:40, my turn has come to have my books signed. I brought three books.  David asked, "What's your name?" And I said, "Pet".  I even gave him a piece of paper with "Pet" written on it, just to be sure he would write "To Pet" neither "To Beth" nor "To Tet". And he said, "Oh! Another interesting name!". Then he took his little notebook from his shirt pocket. "You know, I have a list of interesting names here". Then, he jot down my name. "So, is Pet a short of …Petula?". "No", I replied.  "It's Petra.  I was named after my grandmother whose name is Petra and my parents shortened it to Pet". He took the first book and wrote "To Pet, I'm so happy you're alive" He took the second book while asking if I live with my parents. I said no, because they are in the province but I live with my aunt. "No yaya?", he queried. No, I answered. Then he wrote, "To Pet, no yaya I'm shocked!".  "It's not too late to get a yaya!", he said as he took the last book: Me Talk Pretty One Day, which is my first Sedaris book and one of my favorites. It's old, I bought it years ago and the pages have already brown spots on some parts. He complimented the jacket.  I covered the book with plastic.  We continued to talked, well, he talked more than I did.  I was distracted I didn't see what he wrote. I thanked him as he returned my books.  On my way out, I took the last book, opened the first page.. and.. laughed. I couldn't help it. The message said:  "Bawal ang umihi dito."   Witty. Funny. Definitely, cool!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-4442289485765989084?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/4442289485765989084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=4442289485765989084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4442289485765989084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4442289485765989084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2006/06/david-sedaris-and-me.html' title='David Sedaris and me'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-6501742045143477332</id><published>2006-06-20T22:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:04:31.838+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Multiple choice</title><content type='html'>In highschool, at least in the school where I came from, examination usually comes in the form of:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/Rzih663GS1I/AAAAAAAAAA4/dmKXq_tEtWI/s1600-h/lif3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/Rzih663GS1I/AAAAAAAAAA4/dmKXq_tEtWI/s320/lif3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132029808993520466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a.) an essay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;b.) an enumeration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c.) a multiple choice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;d.) fill in the blanks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, my favorite is... letter c.  Obviously.  You can choose from the possible choices, do a trial and error and… voila! You got the correct answer. Well, most probably.  And when worse comes to worst, and you missed to read the chapter or don't remember the answer or you don't even know where the teacher pick the questions, you can look at the ceiling, do a tic-tac-toe, do a mini-my-ni-mo and tarannn… you have a 25% probability that you might get the right answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you grow older you are presented with different kinds of tests and you wish solving it could be as easy as doing the multiple choice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-6501742045143477332?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/6501742045143477332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=6501742045143477332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6501742045143477332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6501742045143477332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2006/06/multiple-choice.html' title='Multiple choice'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p2tovnWtcY/Rzih663GS1I/AAAAAAAAAA4/dmKXq_tEtWI/s72-c/lif3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-7957185998720376184</id><published>2006-03-15T23:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T02:53:36.550+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotions</title><content type='html'>Emotions from the past…technically, all form part of the past.  Present is just too little of a time, a nanosecond perhaps?  Or 'the present' is just how long you want it to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love can be overpowering. You can say anything and mean everything"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's depressingly frustrating missing someone so much and knowing that someone doesn't care even half as much as you do"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Doing the right and logical thing doesn't guarantee happiness and sometimes pursuing what you think will make you happy doesn't make you completely happy either.  Where do you go from here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lied to. Alone. Ignored. Forgotten."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kapuso doesn't always mean kapamilya and vice versa.  Sometimes all that connects you to them is the same blood that runs through your veins (well, sometimes you do not even have the same blood type. Hah!), or that history says so (the so-called lines that connects your family tree)."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have read quite a handful of books.  I enjoyed some of them. I am amazed of how great some authors are at translating their ideas, describing their experiences and expressing their opinions and innermost emotions.  I envied their vast vocabulary and their ability to play with words that says and conveys exactly what really is.  Just like this one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My project for the next year is to learn how to say, Fuck you, to one and all" -- Irwin Shaw, Beggarman Thief&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sentiments exactly. But, on second thought, why wait for next year?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-7957185998720376184?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/7957185998720376184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=7957185998720376184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7957185998720376184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7957185998720376184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2006/03/emotions.html' title='Emotions'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-7290601597687660859</id><published>2006-03-10T22:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T02:52:02.283+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Idol Top Picks</title><content type='html'>Australian Open's over. Only You asianovela bowed out of the boob tube last month.  So what's the new show that's crazingly making me glued on tv these days?  Pinoy Big Brother Celebrity Edition.  Nah, its American Idol once again.  And I've been following it since its initial telecast, American idol: The audition. I thought I got a glimpse of Carol Banawa but maybe I'm just hoping there's another Filipino talent to be included in the finalist. However, there is one called Jose and Ryan (yes, we're on first name basis J) pronounced it as "Ho-say", who is said to be a Filipino descent. Not one of my favorites though. I even become an unwilling witness to the Brittenbum twins fuss and the show's attempt to put some drama to the show.  Pity to both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, last night the twelve finalists have been named.  And as usual I have my own top picks.  So here it goes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris&lt;br /&gt;Elliott&lt;br /&gt;Bucky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mandisa&lt;br /&gt;Katharine&lt;br /&gt;Paris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last season I rooted for a girl to win this time I'll be on the other side.  It's gonna be a tough choice between Chris and Mandisa.  Mandisa's a tough one to beat and  will probably do a-'Fantasia' sweep but what the heck, I'm still rooting for Chris doing an 'Eric Santos' finish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-7290601597687660859?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/7290601597687660859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=7290601597687660859' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7290601597687660859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/7290601597687660859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2006/03/idol-top-picks.html' title='Idol Top Picks'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-4229613215152926582</id><published>2006-01-21T19:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T02:45:31.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hingis is back!</title><content type='html'>Hingis lost. (sigh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it’s great to see you back in the game again.  It was a great match and you didn’t fail to amaze me once again.  You’re all the more reason that Wimbledon, French and US Open are to look forward to.  And that television and internet are the two most important invention of all time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-4229613215152926582?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/4229613215152926582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=4229613215152926582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4229613215152926582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/4229613215152926582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2006/01/hingis-is-back.html' title='Hingis is back!'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-5156044807157693191</id><published>2006-01-01T07:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T02:43:50.069+08:00</updated><title type='text'>New year, new you</title><content type='html'>Another year ahead. This year it's going to be different.  And so is the next. There are so many things that happened in the past years.  But that's what they are, part of the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You dreamed. You made plans. Others dreamed.  They made plans. For you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have always known, just refuses to acknowledge.  And it left you fighting against yourself.  I'm not making a U-turn, just turning right.  Though the road seems rough and the field seems empty.  I can always plant and grow trees of different kinds or flowers of different colors. There will always something to be amused and excited about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acceptance.  Easy to say, took a long time to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside it's raining. It's as if washing away all the remnants of celebrations last night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I'm still lucky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-5156044807157693191?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/5156044807157693191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=5156044807157693191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5156044807157693191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/5156044807157693191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2006/01/new-year-new-you.html' title='New year, new you'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-599708910957220560</id><published>2005-12-27T22:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T02:41:36.969+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two contrasting J's</title><content type='html'>Like a bird singing songs in the morning&lt;br /&gt;Dreaming, wishing, guarding the night&lt;br /&gt;Full of hope, carefully spreading&lt;br /&gt;His wings to reach the unborn sky&lt;br /&gt;He is good but not the world once around him&lt;br /&gt;But he's never afraid to start all over again&lt;br /&gt;He is as clear as the water in spring&lt;br /&gt;And gentle as his heart could bring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is a mystery in this so-called world&lt;br /&gt;A puzzle you will always trying to solve&lt;br /&gt;A magnetic device that drives you closer&lt;br /&gt;Nearer… and yet… so far&lt;br /&gt;Ever so distant, pretending not to care&lt;br /&gt;Bluer than the ocean and deeper down under&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-599708910957220560?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/599708910957220560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=599708910957220560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/599708910957220560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/599708910957220560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2005/12/two-contrasting-js.html' title='Two contrasting J&apos;s'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-1473428915415345141</id><published>2005-12-25T22:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T02:39:19.448+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To G</title><content type='html'>For all the things you never said&lt;br /&gt;But shown instead&lt;br /&gt;A simple nod, a simple smile&lt;br /&gt;A simple but honest look in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the enthusiasm when I come home&lt;br /&gt;For the belief and inspiration&lt;br /&gt;For calling my name&lt;br /&gt;Sweetness that endear you to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the patience of waiting&lt;br /&gt;And eagerness in learning&lt;br /&gt;For the songs we love to sing&lt;br /&gt;A simple joy for me it brings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the eyes that glow in amusement of what I've done&lt;br /&gt;For the lips that's ever ready to say " You can"&lt;br /&gt;For all that you are&lt;br /&gt;Thank you my little one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-1473428915415345141?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/1473428915415345141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=1473428915415345141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1473428915415345141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/1473428915415345141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2005/12/to-g.html' title='To G'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-3960732474851769739</id><published>2005-12-11T22:33:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T09:51:14.627+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 10: The Wedding</title><content type='html'>She’s holding in her hand, another invitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center;font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;“You’re cordially invited to the wedding of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Darren and Sena…”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s been getting frequent receiving invitations from friends and even to some she’s not even close to.  Either it’s their child’s birthday, baptism or weddings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As she stared at the card, she’s thinking if she’s going to. But a promise is a promise.  And she wouldn’t want to miss her friend’s special day. It’s only once in a lifetime.  Well, hope so.  Yeah, she can spare one day from her so-called-busy-life. And besides, she’s already dressed.  She might lose or gain another 10 pounds tomorrow. And she won’t be able to fit in the dress again.  Another one thousand five hundred bucks down the drain. Plus, another 1k for the three inches high-heeled shoes she bought to match the dress. She’s going, she decided.  She grabbed her purse, closed the door behind her, and climbed the taxicab that’s been waiting for her for fifteen minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was seated at the table with a group of friends and their respective partners.  She chose to come alone than invite one of her guy friends she’s not comfortable with accompanying her to such event.  Across her were her friends Toni and Carlo.  They have been married for eight years.  They’ve been a couple since college, married a year after graduation.  They were perfect together.  Were. Past tense. If they had a choice they would have preferred not to come together.  They’re having some minor problems with their marriage lately. Well, that’s an understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The song “When I fall in Love” played in the background. It never missed to be included in the list of songs played at a wedding.  And she’s getting bored. She saw Darren take the hand of Sena and guided her as they both walked in the middle of the ballroom and started to dance. As others stand up to join the couple, her eyes caught a couple seating at a table near the entrance door.  They seem to be arguing about something.. and then.. they laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And her heart was filled with longing as she looked at both of them. She saw how they look at each other’s eyes teasingly and understandingly that this will be the first of the many days that they will argue and compromise.  And her heart felt empty as she watched them walk away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-3960732474851769739?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/3960732474851769739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=3960732474851769739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3960732474851769739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/3960732474851769739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2005/12/chapter-10-wedding.html' title='Chapter 10: The Wedding'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-2842690481442746793</id><published>2005-11-21T22:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T02:32:42.594+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Potter mania</title><content type='html'>I watched Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire and it was fun! However, I was what-if-thinking how it would be like if Haley Joel Osment played the role of Harry.  He'd probably put more emotion to the role. But who am I to criticize?  Still, criticize I will. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the scene (2nd challenge in the Triwizard Tournament), where Harry, in his red shirt (or is it maroon?) and black shorts, is about to dive in the water to save Ron, they made Harry looked like a hobbit.  Or is it just my imagination?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Victor Krum.  Well, I imagined the character differently.  I pictured Krum to be taller with an Adrien-Brody-like nose, with a scar on his face, and a lot leaner. It should have been Adrien Brody. Oh, bloody hell!(to borrow the expression)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robert Pattinson who acted the role of Cedric Diggory suits me just fine. (because he's lean. Haha!)  I was teasing Pipes when the last challenge in the Triwizard Tournament, The Maze flashed the screen that I'm going to cry because Cedric's going to die. Yes, sometimes I'm that bad, pre-empting the next scene.  And maybe I would have cried but Pipes keeps laughing at me.  Anyway, bye Cedric, I won't be able to see you again on the next Harry Potter series.  Well, unless Rowling conjured you up in the 7th book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mad-eye moody. I just wished they made his eye more real and scary. Really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flare Delacour.  I pictured her to be a fairy-like beauty. I'm quite disappointed though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ralph Fiennes as Lord Voldemort.  Hands down. Perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh, I loved the scenery!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's three more left of the series- something to look forward to. Hope the wait won't take as long as it took the Star Wars prequel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-2842690481442746793?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/2842690481442746793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=2842690481442746793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2842690481442746793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/2842690481442746793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2005/11/potter-mania.html' title='Potter mania'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-6949530762782816776</id><published>2005-11-01T23:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T03:28:06.215+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All Souls Day</title><content type='html'>friends pursuing their dreams…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a love lost…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unresolved misunderstandings…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not meeting expectations…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;growing up…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All souls day reminds me not only of departed friends and loved ones but also “death” of certain phases of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yap, and all you need is a brush and a song..&lt;br /&gt;and I have just the perfect one&lt;br /&gt;right here inside my phone (got W800i and loving it!)&lt;br /&gt;oops.., my cue. gotta sing-along (didn’t mean it to rhyme, cheesy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Big World&lt;br /&gt;Sung by Emilia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chorus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a big big girl&lt;br /&gt;In a big big world&lt;br /&gt;It's not a big big thing if you leave me&lt;br /&gt;But I do do feel&lt;br /&gt;That I do do will&lt;br /&gt;Miss you much&lt;br /&gt;Miss you much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see the first leafs falling&lt;br /&gt;It's all yellow and nice&lt;br /&gt;It's so very cold outside&lt;br /&gt;Like the way I'm feeling inside&lt;br /&gt;Miss you much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outside it's now raining&lt;br /&gt;And tears are falling from my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Why did it have to happen&lt;br /&gt;Why did it all have to end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have your arms around me&lt;br /&gt;Warm like fire&lt;br /&gt;But when I open my eyes......&lt;br /&gt;You're gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a big big girl&lt;br /&gt;In a big big world&lt;br /&gt;It's not a big big thing&lt;br /&gt;If you leave me&lt;br /&gt;But I do&lt;br /&gt;Feel I will&lt;br /&gt;Miss you much&lt;br /&gt;miss you much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, I’ll be singing a different tune.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-6949530762782816776?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/6949530762782816776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=6949530762782816776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6949530762782816776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/6949530762782816776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2005/11/all-souls-day.html' title='All Souls Day'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8313553490983159655.post-9067733311953637498</id><published>2005-10-29T14:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T02:22:44.179+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>my heart.. my gift.. my curse…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8313553490983159655-9067733311953637498?l=petpensieve.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/feeds/9067733311953637498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8313553490983159655&amp;postID=9067733311953637498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/9067733311953637498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8313553490983159655/posts/default/9067733311953637498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://petpensieve.blogspot.com/2005/10/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>Pet</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10875823206538308386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
