<?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-7787370651881472306</id><updated>2011-09-27T06:56:28.047-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Say It Again</title><subtitle type='html'>The thing about love is I never saw it comin'
You kinda crept up and took me by surprise
And now there's a voice inside my heart that's got me wonderin'
Is this true, I wanna hear it one more time
Say it again for me
Cuz I love the way it feels when you are
Tellin me that I'm
The only one who blows your mind</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>67</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-7067507882163048784</id><published>2011-06-15T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T21:26:17.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2nd year college</title><content type='html'>Yes, you saw that right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second year na ko. Shet! :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-7067507882163048784?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/7067507882163048784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=7067507882163048784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7067507882163048784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7067507882163048784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2011/06/2nd-year-college.html' title='2nd year college'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-5145795148155734387</id><published>2011-01-14T23:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T23:08:12.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just the way you are</title><content type='html'>"When I see your face, there's not a thing that I would change, because you're amazing, just the way you are.."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "&gt;Two out my three professors today asked the class if we knew the song Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars, what a coincidence. And what the hell Bruno Mars, you are making me believe that somebody will love me beyond my imperfections. :(&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/7787370651881472306-5145795148155734387?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/5145795148155734387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=5145795148155734387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/5145795148155734387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/5145795148155734387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2011/01/just-way-you-are.html' title='Just the way you are'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-1084450444860119886</id><published>2010-06-12T05:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-12T06:30:59.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>KOLEHIYO na ako</title><content type='html'>It's official.. now, I am a certified Iska!&lt;br /&gt;To those who don't understand..&lt;br /&gt;"Iskolar ng Bayan" to!!! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've read a magazine saying to be proud of it.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm proud.&lt;br /&gt;Only few of the many were given the chance to study in this prestigious university..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am done with my first week and a lot of things had already happened.&lt;br /&gt;== I ,met my super beautiful ENG 1 teacher! duh! She's beyond perfect&lt;br /&gt;== I haven't met my Kas 1 prof.. because..&lt;br /&gt;== The Chem  Pav which is in AS fired up and the whole AS building was kept closed and&lt;br /&gt;== Two of my classes were suspended..&lt;br /&gt;== I met my dorm mates&lt;br /&gt;== I brought my clothes in a laundry shop..wwoooo! it's my first time so I'm glad&lt;br /&gt;== I eat less&lt;br /&gt;== I surf the net less..oh that sucks&lt;br /&gt;== I met a lot of people&lt;br /&gt;== I asked their name and after a minute or less, I forget it. that's stupid&lt;br /&gt;== I went home in Cavite and when I reached my HOME, damn, I thought that I was the happiest person :D because&lt;br /&gt;== I totally missed being home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taga-UP ako. ikaw?:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-1084450444860119886?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/1084450444860119886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=1084450444860119886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1084450444860119886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1084450444860119886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2010/06/kolehiyo-na-ako.html' title='KOLEHIYO na ako'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-8249216287833768502</id><published>2010-04-08T00:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T00:42:02.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AMPUTEK! eto na naman ako!!!</title><content type='html'>grabe&lt;br /&gt;sobrang saya q!&lt;br /&gt;as in!&lt;br /&gt;grabe!grabe!grabe!&lt;br /&gt;peo saglit lng un.&lt;br /&gt;the fairytale was den turned into reality...&lt;br /&gt;pssshhhh!&lt;br /&gt;back to work. :D&lt;br /&gt;back to stalking! :)&lt;br /&gt;back to waiting :(&lt;br /&gt;back to hoping :((&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-8249216287833768502?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/8249216287833768502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=8249216287833768502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8249216287833768502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8249216287833768502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2010/04/amputek-eto-na-naman-ako.html' title='AMPUTEK! eto na naman ako!!!'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-7815717382315685949</id><published>2009-12-10T02:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T03:29:35.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kilig or Honesty?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*Note:I am back in Blogger because I just can't take it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;actually, this line was from Ms. Kris Aquino.&lt;br /&gt;I totally agree that girls would prefer to be "kilig" than to know the truth that the one you like is not the one who also likes you.&lt;br /&gt;I know that this statement of mine is so confusing. If you are a girl and you disagree, I would accept it because maybe that statement is just real for SOME girls, and to me.&lt;br /&gt;My point is, I JUST HATE IT!!!&lt;br /&gt;I learned the truth and I feel so depressed. I learned that "She is NOT me". And it hurts. I actually did not want to know it. It was an accident. But now, I regret seeing it. I hate it that I saw it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I really hate it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;and this is why I posted here, AGAIN.&lt;br /&gt;I did not want to know the truth but destiny gave it to me. I just hate it that when I come to realize that I am happy with the "lies", the truth comes. For short, I am contented with the lies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I am very happy today, just until I saw the TRUTH. I really did not want to see it!!! I am happy with what is happening now, and again, it was resumed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I admit, this thingy(feeling) already happened before with the same person. And it hurts as much even though it is not confirmed yet. I just hate my reaction that I am still hoping even though there is no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, with the big day AGAIN,it would happen. Again, I don't want the Big day to arrive and it's because of him again.. And it is all AGAIN..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would not want to hope but I would want to wait,..,&lt;br /&gt;I just wonder if that can be,&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;'waiting without hoping'...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;*sana wlang makabas nito&lt;br /&gt;salamat sa blogger at nasbi q ang mga nais kong ilabas ngayong wala talaga aqng mapagsasabhan..&lt;br /&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/7787370651881472306-7815717382315685949?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/7815717382315685949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=7815717382315685949' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7815717382315685949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7815717382315685949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/12/kilig-or-honesty.html' title='Kilig or Honesty?'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-2224408410761720886</id><published>2009-07-21T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T05:13:33.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need someone who'll stay</title><content type='html'>Life?&lt;br /&gt;It seems impossible to live with...&lt;br /&gt;I'm just bored and want to post something..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bkit ganun?&lt;br /&gt;Bkit kung kailan mo gusto mo ang isang tao, doon hindi ka niya gusto?&lt;br /&gt;Bkit kung kailan gusto ka ng isang tao, hindi mo naman siya gusto?&lt;br /&gt;At bakit kung kelan gusto mo niyo ang isa't isa, dun hindi kayo pede?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haizst...&lt;br /&gt;mahirap na nga ang life..&lt;br /&gt;dagdagan pa ng love..&lt;br /&gt;life+love=difficulties+complications&lt;br /&gt;equal ryt???&lt;br /&gt;hahaha..&lt;br /&gt;but to make it more balanced..&lt;br /&gt;we gotta add happiness on the equation..&lt;br /&gt;I think nobody would disagree on these...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never had a boyfriend or anybody I had a commitment with..&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to have one yet but, I just want to know the feeling..&lt;br /&gt;the feeling when:&lt;br /&gt;may mag-aalaga sa iyo&lt;br /&gt;may magkecare sayo&lt;br /&gt;may magbibigay sayo during special occassions&lt;br /&gt;may "knight in shining armor" for short..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xempre hnd rin naman mawawala yung feeling when:&lt;br /&gt;may magseselos&lt;br /&gt;may tampuhan&lt;br /&gt;may sumbatan&lt;br /&gt;may awayan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but at the end of the day, you'll realize na kayo parin..&lt;br /&gt;ganun ba..&lt;br /&gt;hahahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I once thought na nakilala ko na siya..."&lt;br /&gt;pero bata pa ko nun..&lt;br /&gt;pero I'm immature enough..&lt;br /&gt;un,walang nangyari..&lt;br /&gt;kze..you know..ilangan...&lt;br /&gt;sana naging friends na lng kami..&lt;br /&gt;at least..we got to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;may mga dumating..&lt;br /&gt;pero wala..&lt;br /&gt;mataray nga siguro talaga ako..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now..&lt;br /&gt;Another guy caught my eye...&lt;br /&gt;peo.wala na.uli.&lt;br /&gt;mabilis aq magsawa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I really have high expectations. I have an ideal guy that is hard to be found. Well, that's me and that's what I want. But maybe, if the time comes that I would fall in love, I would not care even though he's the opposite of my dream guy. "And the logic would be thrown apart"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-2224408410761720886?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/2224408410761720886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=2224408410761720886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2224408410761720886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2224408410761720886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-need-someone-wholl-stay.html' title='I need someone who&apos;ll stay'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-2305929608420937802</id><published>2009-07-21T04:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T04:46:11.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NObody by Wonder girls versions</title><content type='html'>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFjP-OJ7Bh4&lt;br /&gt;Try to watch that. That's the original version of nobody by wonder girls. They're so cute, pretty and good. You'll love not only the song but also its dance by these people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUXN2-sOBYI&lt;br /&gt;Now, try to watch this. This is the version of ASAP's It girls. To be honest, I really like this group even though their performances are not so good. And also, I'm a kapamilya and I don't want to say negative things about the station. But THE HELL! Their performance made me hate them. Shocks! They should have not done it if they would not do it properly! Their dance steps does not even fit the song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ebjIfKwZldA&lt;br /&gt;Now, this is the version of SOP's Beautiful girls, I don't actually know them, just now. Yeah, they imitated the step and the costume. Their not cute nor pretty nor good. They don't even coordinate with one another. They looked so trying hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wN6F96eQmRo&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;br /&gt;Lastly is the dance of the Cebu inmates. This is the version I loved the most among the Philippine versions. lolz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing, I just want to comment about these versions of Nobody.&lt;br /&gt;I just want to share it.&lt;br /&gt;Filipinos should prove that we are not "monkeys"(as what Mariah Carey said) that imitates different countries. We have our own talents and these could be better than in other countries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-2305929608420937802?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/2305929608420937802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=2305929608420937802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2305929608420937802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2305929608420937802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/07/nobody-by-wonder-girls-versions.html' title='NObody by Wonder girls versions'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-8227147870771539310</id><published>2009-07-13T05:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T05:25:39.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when is love true</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;Fairytales and fiction stories made us believe that there is such thing as true love. Stories show that whatever happens, lovers will be together if their love is true. You will be loved whoever you are. No one or nothing can separate you. And if it comes your way, there is no way you could escape from it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Are all love true? Love cannot be called love if it is not true. One loves someone truly if he doesn’t expect something back and if he can do anything for that person. One example is the vampire love story of Edward and Bella. They love each other truly that they are willing to do anything for each other’s good. Edward is willing to give up on her just to let her live life and be happy while Bella is willing to risk her life in order to be a vampire and live with him forever.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Many popular fictional stories show how true is love. True love is everywhere in the world. But we should still be careful, fake love is more abundant in this world. We just have to learn what is unreal or true. But to distinguish one from another, true love is pure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-8227147870771539310?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/8227147870771539310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=8227147870771539310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8227147870771539310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8227147870771539310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/07/when-is-love-true.html' title='when is love true'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-9146071113615869189</id><published>2009-07-13T04:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T04:51:38.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disatrous Blessings</title><content type='html'>Why do you think lotto winners hide their names from public and just decided to hide the fact that they won? These thing proves that people are unease that they receive blessings. Blessings might be dangerous for us. And, this can cause disasters for us. But shouldn't be blessings cause positive outcomes and not negative like a disaster?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to think of this, some rich people are killed for they receive too many blessings when it comes to money. Psyche almost live alone for the envious of her sisters to her blessings from Cupid. Blessings got disastrous if they are too much. It also become dangerous if you boast it with other people. Lastly, it is most disastrous if not used correctly and properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessings are made to be a gift for us. Only will it be a disaster when people would overuse it. Also, it may be caused by envious of other people. The solution to this is to share your blessings to other people and don't boast it. Blessings are things that come and go. just make sure to use it to the fullest and take care of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-9146071113615869189?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/9146071113615869189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=9146071113615869189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/9146071113615869189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/9146071113615869189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/07/disatrous-blessings.html' title='Disatrous Blessings'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-6192637617727284273</id><published>2009-07-13T03:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T04:16:01.969-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pleasure from Misfortune</title><content type='html'>Cinderella's step mother and sisters forbid her from going at the castle to attend the Prince's party. The witch cursed Aurora to sleep forever. Snow ate the apple given by the evil witch for the envious to her beauty. Psyche's sisters plot a plan on how to ruin her. Such miscreant things are done to these innocent young ladies made the villains happy. And the big question is, WHY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These happenings not only occur on fiction stories but these are most common to real life. Sad to say, some people derive pleasure from the misfortune of others. These may be because of revenge. Commonly, the cause of all things in the world is, if not love, revenge.Next thing may be jealousy. A person would not want another person to be more fortunate than him. And the last thing may be envious. Someone would want himself as the top of all. And how can that be if someone is better than him? These are few explanations why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These things seem so evil for people who doesn't owe someone anything. But anything has its own karma, either good or bad. Cinderella came to marry the prince while her step mother and sisters were punished. Aurora was awaken by the prince's kiss and the bad witch was gone. Snow White also was found by his prince and the evil witch died. Lastly, Psyche enjoyed her immortality with Cupid while her sisters died for the revenge to their bad attitudes. If people can't do anything with evil creatures , then destiny can, above all, our Creator can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-6192637617727284273?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/6192637617727284273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=6192637617727284273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6192637617727284273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6192637617727284273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/07/pleasure-from-misfortune.html' title='Pleasure from Misfortune'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-5406851031687738357</id><published>2009-06-12T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T02:43:52.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm starting to feel it</title><content type='html'>Well, our second week has just passed.&lt;br /&gt;A 4-day school bussiness.&lt;br /&gt;Leading the Flag ceremony.&lt;br /&gt;A(h1n1) precautions.&lt;br /&gt;Research time.&lt;br /&gt;Chemistry.&lt;br /&gt;No teachers.&lt;br /&gt;No classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are some issues and topics this week. We were only in the school for four days this week because friday is a holiday. But still, I had some affiliations with my classmates.&lt;br /&gt;Let's not go on with that first. I'll talk to you about my 6th-9th day in school.&lt;br /&gt;This days gave me some sort of relaxation because we had a lot of vacant time. So now I'm feeling it. Fourth year life means less classes but great pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Research time is always the "pressure-giving" time. And this is all because of what we call as research problem which I don't have yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A(h1n1) or ahini...lolz. The four-hydrogen students got fewer! Eight of them are already absent or should I say excused! This is so alarming. But I just hope this is not an Influenza A case or else, we could be all infected.&lt;br /&gt;Next to that,we were told to brought health kit. But of course everyone brought but no one's using it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, Friday, we went to Dei's house. We practiced for the exercise. Justin, Alpha, Aaron,Viellka, Chala, Jenna, Froiland, Nobie, Jenny, Tenten, Katrina, Paulo, Karissa, EJ, Froiland, and Esie were there. I'm not so sure if I mentioned all. At first, we were listening to the music. The music we would use are mag-exercise tayo twing umaga,careless whispher and its remix. We finished it. And I'm excited for Monday. I just hope that I won't be late on that day and that it will rain so we will lead in the gym.&lt;br /&gt;END!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-5406851031687738357?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/5406851031687738357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=5406851031687738357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/5406851031687738357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/5406851031687738357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-starting-to-feel-it.html' title='I&apos;m starting to feel it'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-2635041092566345912</id><published>2009-06-01T04:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T06:16:30.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Day..</title><content type='html'>..yeAH..&lt;br /&gt;It's our first day, again. But this time, I am already  senior student. And I can't believe this. I can't believe that this is my last first day in my loved Alma Mater.&lt;br /&gt;And then, I just reminisced about my last three first days.&lt;br /&gt;First day as a first year student in CNSHS is so pressuring. I'm so nervous and all that negative feelings.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, first day as a sophomore is so exciting that at last, we finished first year!&lt;br /&gt;Worst, first day as a junior, it seems like entering a world which is so unfamiliar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, the last and the least, first day as a graduating student of this school. Why least? Well, I really don't know. I did not feel any emotion. I did not feel nervous,excited, nor sad. And i don't know why!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, have I mentioned that I'm back? Yeah, now I mentioned it. Well, I'm happy about that. And so I expected a lot happiness this first day. But sadly, it was not able to meet my expectations.&lt;br /&gt;A lot of problems arose this first day including the worst of all, RESEARCH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first time I felt this. The feeling that I wanna graduate already and skip being a Senior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wanna graduate on time, no matter what it takes.."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-2635041092566345912?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/2635041092566345912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=2635041092566345912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2635041092566345912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2635041092566345912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/06/first-day.html' title='First Day..'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-4268346453396580151</id><published>2009-05-30T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T06:01:57.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>May 29</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJRvpw9FpI/AAAAAAAAANY/xlxKy3Chj3c/s1600-h/couz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 153px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJRvpw9FpI/AAAAAAAAANY/xlxKy3Chj3c/s200/couz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346425586749085330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-4268346453396580151?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/4268346453396580151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=4268346453396580151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4268346453396580151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4268346453396580151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/05/may-29.html' title='May 29'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJRvpw9FpI/AAAAAAAAANY/xlxKy3Chj3c/s72-c/couz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-3024417768357089765</id><published>2009-05-22T04:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T06:20:23.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>May 22: The most memorable Brigada</title><content type='html'>what happened this day?&lt;br /&gt;well, today the brigada was closed and I went to Nobie's Tita's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reached school at about 10:30, I think. I did not see any classmate in our room so I trespass in other rooms. I saw Camille. She already has her psp! I'm happy for her.=)I asked Nobie where they were. Then, he didn't reply so I texted Froiland. Luckily, he replied. He said that they are in Nobie's house. Nobie also relied and he asked me to go there. I told Camille to accompany me to go in Ternate. But at first, she was not in the mood to go there. It's a slight of personal problem.=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at the end, I think she pitied me. She went with me.&lt;br /&gt;When we reached Nobie's house, we saw Nobie from near.He was from his Tita's house.&lt;br /&gt;And then we went to the house. wooow! I did not expect to see that kind of house. It was so spacious,big and clean. I knew about the house, but I don't know its features so I was shocked.Well, it was so nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we went to the room, I greeted them "hi". They were many in the room so it's hot even though it's air conditioned. I saw plates. they ate spaghetti. Lucky I was not able to eat because I would get fatter.=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viel,Jenny,Jenna,Chala,Ria,Dei,Aaron and Froiland were there, watching basketball. After some time, I decided to go out and rome around the place.Well, it's so nice!Really!hahaha.Then Viel,Jenny,Jenna and Chala went back to school.So seven of us were left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We watched basketball but sadly, Lakers lost. Sadly is not for me actually, it's for Froiland.=)&lt;br /&gt;They switched the channel and turned it in channel 2.We watched Game knb? and after that is Wowowee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we went down to get the food in Nobie's house so we could eat.And then we ate! I washed few bottles after eating and Froi and Camille continued it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went up. It was so cold in the room! Then Ria followed. She told me stories about Boys Over Flowers. And then Dei and Aaron came. And we were complete again with Nobie,Froi and Cam back in the room.We continued watching Wowowee.Well,it was so fun to watch Wowowee with friends.lolz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went back to school and I went in our room. I saw Ma'am Jackie in there. She asked me if I'm already happy. Of course, and that was definite.We loked at the bulletin board made by Rochell and her sister. They were so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stayed in the pavillion after that. And then, the closing program started. There were many people, swear!, that I can even count them in my hands!&lt;br /&gt;lolz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after that, I went home!&lt;br /&gt;done!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-3024417768357089765?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/3024417768357089765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=3024417768357089765' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/3024417768357089765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/3024417768357089765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/05/may-22.html' title='May 22: The most memorable Brigada'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-8669240556075164398</id><published>2009-05-20T05:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T06:19:43.807-07:00</updated><title type='text'>May 20: A trip to bacoor</title><content type='html'>This day, I went at Sm Bacoor with Ria,Dei,Nobie,Aaron,Justin and Sheila..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I did not have any plan of going with them because it's just that I don't feel like going. Nobie texted me that they're already in Mcdo and willing to wait for me. He seemed to beg so I agreed. But I already decided to go because i don't have anything to do in our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I prepared for about 30 minutes and I immediately went to Mcdo. They were all there.We waited for the bus. Good that it did not take a lot of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we reached SM, we first ate in KFC.As usual, I ate crispy strips and brownies. After that, we went up and bought tickets. I also bought popcorn and mineral water so I can eat something while watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when we entered the theater,the movie is about to begin.&lt;br /&gt;It started.&lt;br /&gt;Sheila came 10 or 20 minutes after the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;It ended.&lt;br /&gt;Well, the movie was good and all I could say is, Dan Brown is so great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Tom's World after that. I did not play anything but I love to watch them playing.=)&lt;br /&gt;Nobie then asked me to accompany him.&lt;br /&gt;He bought nachos, brownies and a book in National Bookstore.&lt;br /&gt;Before going back in Tom's World, we both bought ice cream!&lt;br /&gt;We went up still with the ice cream in our hands. They were almost done playing and so we didn't stay long in the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, we went in National Bookstore once again. And we bought ice cream again. After that, we decided to go in Toys Kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;Well,we spend a lot of time in there.=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time for us to take our merienda. We went to the ground floor. I bought shawarma and we all ate standing.=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that all?&lt;br /&gt;Think so.=)&lt;br /&gt;And we went home...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-8669240556075164398?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/8669240556075164398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=8669240556075164398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8669240556075164398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8669240556075164398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/05/may-20.html' title='May 20: A trip to bacoor'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-8135470247506581440</id><published>2009-05-17T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T06:19:15.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>May 16: kaarawan ng binata</title><content type='html'>.It's froi's birthday celebration today..&lt;br /&gt;but it's not his birthday today..=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isang hindi sinasadyang pagkakataon na makita ko si Paulo sa may Mcdo kasama si Zyrex. Hinihintay daw nila si Justin.(ang gara ng tagalog.hahaha)&lt;br /&gt;Naroon naman ako upang hintayin ang aking sis na si Camille. Ang nakakapagtaka ay ang tagal niya. At salamat ay dumating si Justin. Ilang minuto pagkatapos noon ay dumating na rin si Camille.&lt;br /&gt;Kinuwento niya sa akin ang nangyari bago siya nakarating. Apat na bus ang kanyang sinakyan bago makarating. Isipin mo yun. Isang malaking kamalasan.&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit swerte pa rin siya dahil nakarating siya ng ligtas at buhay. (lalong kumokorni.hahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At un na nga, nakarating na kami sa Amaya, Brgy.6, na ngayon ko lang nalaman na sa likod pala ng simbahan. Malay ko ba. Hindi ako tiga-roon. At hindi iyon ang ruta na dinadaanan ko kapag pupunta ako roon. Well, at least nakarating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wala pa naman kaming ginagawa noon, dahil maaga pa nga. At yun, nagkuwentuhan. Ang isang paksa na pinakaayaw ko ay ang pag-uusap nila tungkol sa "katabaan ko". Alam ko naman na mataba na ako. Pero magpapapayat na talaga ako! Promise! At sana kayanin ko!&lt;br /&gt;Kumain kami. At as usual, ako ang nanguna. Syempre, normal na yun, hindi na ako nahihiya sa bahay nila Froi,medyo slight na lang.(hahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makalipas ang ilang oras, dumating si Kodie. At grabe, ang dami niya nakain.&lt;br /&gt;Wala akong magawa kaya't sinundo ko na si Blez. Wala siyang kasabay kumain kaya't napagpasyahan niyang intayin sina Viellka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi rin naman nagtagal ay dumating na rin sina Viellka, Chala at Katrina.At habang kumakain sila ay kumakain din naman kami ng ice cream. Masaya naman, dahil masarap yung ice cream.=) At noong nasa pang-apat na akong baso ay dumating sina Ria, Kathleen, at Aaron.As usual, nagkwentuhan. Medyo nakaka-out of place nga lang dahil YES CAMP ang topic nila. Pero, ayos lang.=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kumain kami ni Viellka ng Baked mac, ang pinunta ko roon. hahaha. Pero totoo un.=)Hindi si Froi ang pinunta ko kung hindi ang luto ni Aling Fe.hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pumunta kami kina Blez.Nanood lang ng t.v.&lt;br /&gt;Pinabalik kami nina Froi.&lt;br /&gt;Ayun, nanonood sila t.v.&lt;br /&gt;Wala ang tropa, nagcomp shop ata.&lt;br /&gt;At kasama na nila si Stan, Richard, at Kuya Michael.&lt;br /&gt;Wala na rin si Camille, umuwi na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umakyat kami upang kumaing muli.&lt;br /&gt;Cake na dala nila Viel.&lt;br /&gt;May videoke na doon. Ngunit hindi iyon nagana, walang sounds, ginagawa pa ng tatay ni Froi.&lt;br /&gt;At yun, noong binuksan ko iyong soft drinks ay nabutas lamang ang tanzan sa gitna. Mali pala, baliktad. At sabi nila, okay lang naman, magtusok na lang daw ako ng straw.=)&lt;br /&gt;Bumaba kami para manood ng Boys Over Flowers. medyo nabore ako dahil napanood ko na ung lahat.Gusto ko na ngang umuwi dahil baka gabihin ako. Naririnig ko na yung videoke, mukhang gawa na.&lt;br /&gt;May nagyakag na umakyat daw kami. At un, umakyat nga kami.Umalis naman yung mga nagkakantahan para sa amin. Solo namin yung lugar.&lt;br /&gt;Dumating si Tenten! Dumating ang Campus Idol! Dumating ang kakanta!hahahha.&lt;br /&gt;At yun, masaya na noong panahong iyon. Ayaw ko pang umuwi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumating na yung tropa. Umuwi yung iba, Yung iba, magoovernight daw doon.&lt;br /&gt;Medyo gumagabi na, alas syete na.&lt;br /&gt;Medyo nagkakayagan na.&lt;br /&gt;At yun.&lt;br /&gt;Uwian na.&lt;br /&gt;Kung nakapagpaalam lang na doon matulog, sana naiwan kami lahat.&lt;br /&gt;hahahah.&lt;br /&gt;pero ayos lang.&lt;br /&gt;masaya na naman.&lt;br /&gt;tama na.&lt;br /&gt;hehehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-8135470247506581440?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/8135470247506581440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=8135470247506581440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8135470247506581440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8135470247506581440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/05/may-16.html' title='May 16: kaarawan ng binata'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-6567883701687730973</id><published>2009-04-14T01:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T21:47:42.279-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Diliman Access/Family Outing</title><content type='html'>got it right.&lt;br /&gt;I attended summer classes in Atheneum.&lt;br /&gt;It is called Diliman Access...&lt;br /&gt;Nothing fun happened.&lt;br /&gt;We just had our orientation..&lt;br /&gt;That's all..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went home, my relatives were waiting for me.&lt;br /&gt;Then, we went to Villa Excelance.&lt;br /&gt;I did not swim a lot, just a bit.&lt;br /&gt;And when we're done, we had bonefire..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DONE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-6567883701687730973?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/6567883701687730973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=6567883701687730973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6567883701687730973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6567883701687730973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/04/diliman-accessfamily-outing.html' title='Diliman Access/Family Outing'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-7666507445986487297</id><published>2009-04-12T06:27:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T06:42:19.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter..Fiesta!</title><content type='html'>Today is the feast day in Julugan.&lt;br /&gt;Zer Carlos, my godchild was baptized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8daVaSxQI/AAAAAAAAAMw/8_EFTCl44Hg/s1600-h/DSC02680.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8daVaSxQI/AAAAAAAAAMw/8_EFTCl44Hg/s200/DSC02680.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327509222463816962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I was also gotten as Ninang to Justin.&lt;br /&gt;Well, it's two birds in one stone.=0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ate in my grandmother's house.&lt;br /&gt;And I think, I ate a lot this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mic-mic, my cousin and school mate brought he visitors with her.&lt;br /&gt;They are Kuya Michael, Kuya Jeno who became my father, or should I say lolo and Kuya Banjo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stayed with them for a while, for a sake my Ninang's request.&lt;br /&gt;At about 6 pm, Paulo came.&lt;br /&gt;They were talking about some personal things that I felt I need to go.&lt;br /&gt;When I had the chance, I excuse myself.&lt;br /&gt;I did not return anymore because I went with my cousins in the covered court in Julugan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-7666507445986487297?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/7666507445986487297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=7666507445986487297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7666507445986487297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7666507445986487297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/04/easterfiesta.html' title='Easter..Fiesta!'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8daVaSxQI/AAAAAAAAAMw/8_EFTCl44Hg/s72-c/DSC02680.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-8459797411947798248</id><published>2009-04-12T06:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T06:33:26.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Visita Iglesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8cjyoEu_I/AAAAAAAAAMo/ykCny2BxUbI/s1600-h/DSC02386.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8cjyoEu_I/AAAAAAAAAMo/ykCny2BxUbI/s200/DSC02386.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327508285413440498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the way...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LIST OF THE 14 CHURCHES WE WENT TO:&lt;br /&gt;1) Naic- Diocesian shrine o the immaculate conception of Mary&lt;br /&gt;2) Maragondon- Nuestra Senora&lt;br /&gt;3) Ternate- Sto. Nino parish Church&lt;br /&gt;4) Trece Martirez- St. jude parish church&lt;br /&gt;5) Mendez- st. gregory parish church&lt;br /&gt;6) Indang- st. Augustine parish&lt;br /&gt;7) Tagaytay- our lady of lourdes parish&lt;br /&gt;8) Dasmarinas- immaculate conception parish Church&lt;br /&gt;9) Imus- nuestra senora del pilar&lt;br /&gt;10) Bacoor- Parokya ni san miguel arkanghel&lt;br /&gt;11) Kawit- st. mary magdalene parish&lt;br /&gt;12) Rosario- the most holy rosary parish&lt;br /&gt;13) Gen. Trias- St. francis of Assisi parish church&lt;br /&gt;14) Tanza- st. augustine church&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the places where we went.&lt;br /&gt;I was with my cousins.&lt;br /&gt;Sad, I was not with my mother.&lt;br /&gt;***relative problem.&lt;br /&gt;Sad, I was not with my brother.&lt;br /&gt;***He had also visita iglesia with my other cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8bpfE_GPI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/jlLW64VFFxg/s1600-h/DSC02419.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8bpfE_GPI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/jlLW64VFFxg/s200/DSC02419.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327507283733584114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with ate mariel, in Maragondon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8b-9KcLfI/AAAAAAAAAMY/W88onaf51EA/s1600-h/DSC02457.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8b-9KcLfI/AAAAAAAAAMY/W88onaf51EA/s200/DSC02457.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327507652586778098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tres marias in tagaytay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8cWc5NBOI/AAAAAAAAAMg/ONj4BhFXjG8/s1600-h/DSC02459.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8cWc5NBOI/AAAAAAAAAMg/ONj4BhFXjG8/s200/DSC02459.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327508056241407202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cousins,forever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-8459797411947798248?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/8459797411947798248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=8459797411947798248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8459797411947798248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8459797411947798248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/04/visita-iglesia.html' title='Visita Iglesia'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/Se8cjyoEu_I/AAAAAAAAAMo/ykCny2BxUbI/s72-c/DSC02386.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-535364130427486342</id><published>2009-04-12T06:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T06:26:35.900-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Invitation</title><content type='html'>I received a text message from Blessille this day.&lt;br /&gt;She invited me to join the Nitrogen's outing in Naic.&lt;br /&gt;I did want to go, but still, I hesitated.&lt;br /&gt;I thought that this is the time for the 3-N to bond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I replied asking if it is really alright.&lt;br /&gt;Then, a friend answered, "always welcome".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I asked my mother if I could go.&lt;br /&gt;Next, she said it's up to me.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I decided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not go.&lt;br /&gt;I just went out yesterday with the Ozone.&lt;br /&gt;And here I am, going again.&lt;br /&gt;I thought that this is already an abuse.lolz&lt;br /&gt;And I don't have budget anymore.=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, another friend told me that he enjoyed so much.&lt;br /&gt;Happy I did not regret my decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But honestly, and from the bottom of my heart, I really wanted to go.&lt;br /&gt;It's just not the right time.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I love that family, the MOST!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-535364130427486342?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/535364130427486342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=535364130427486342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/535364130427486342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/535364130427486342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/04/invitation.html' title='An Invitation'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-7580988097126340766</id><published>2009-04-08T07:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T06:19:42.869-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Bonding with Ozone</title><content type='html'>This day is such a day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We, the OZONE people had our outing!&lt;br /&gt;This is our celebration because we've successfully finished third year life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine this.&lt;br /&gt;I did not want to enter this section but I don't want to leave it.&lt;br /&gt;This feeling is such a reverse psychology.&lt;br /&gt;But honestly, this is just the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not enjoy this swimming so much but it's enough.&lt;br /&gt;This is just for the fact that from the start till today, I did not expect a lot from&lt;br /&gt;this section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than half of our section joined the outing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad the others were not able to make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conclusion:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was happy and contented to be with my OZONE family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-7580988097126340766?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/7580988097126340766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=7580988097126340766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7580988097126340766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7580988097126340766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/04/last-bonding-with-ozone.html' title='Last Bonding with Ozone'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-2007897347480079072</id><published>2009-04-08T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T06:20:06.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last day Of school:Not so memorable</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SectkDlyuaI/AAAAAAAAALQ/FhtaxY3DjQ8/s1600-h/1_615593377l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SectkDlyuaI/AAAAAAAAALQ/FhtaxY3DjQ8/s200/1_615593377l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325275181851261346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, last day.&lt;br /&gt;As what I said, this day is not so memorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a picture with Camille.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is our last day as a third year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had our getting of cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one is kicked out.&lt;br /&gt;Celebrate!&lt;br /&gt;We will remain 99!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my card.&lt;br /&gt;I'm top one in our class with an average of 91.5.&lt;br /&gt;I hope that average is enough to be in Nitrogen.&lt;br /&gt;I truly want to go back in nitro but I still don't want to end my third year life as a three-oxygen student.&lt;br /&gt;Time passes so fast!!!&lt;br /&gt;Before, I wished not to be a junior but now, I wish to be a junior,again.&lt;br /&gt;I still want to spend more days with my classmates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why does everything have to happen when it's too late?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-2007897347480079072?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/2007897347480079072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=2007897347480079072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2007897347480079072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2007897347480079072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/04/last-day-of-schoolnot-so-memorable.html' title='Last day Of school:Not so memorable'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SectkDlyuaI/AAAAAAAAALQ/FhtaxY3DjQ8/s72-c/1_615593377l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-7131209418390029864</id><published>2009-03-27T06:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T06:03:57.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A day to be remembered: Earthwatch Teens</title><content type='html'>Well, I could say that pictures meant a thousand words. This day is so memorable even though I did not win.=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecqQ5dWocI/AAAAAAAAAKo/c-sOC6D357g/s1600-h/DSC01915.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecqQ5dWocI/AAAAAAAAAKo/c-sOC6D357g/s200/DSC01915.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325271554179113410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come take a pose ZAB!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecqQxifWPI/AAAAAAAAAKg/eVdhal13GwE/s1600-h/DSC01911.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecqQxifWPI/AAAAAAAAAKg/eVdhal13GwE/s200/DSC01911.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325271552053172466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They said I walked too fast. Well, I think so. I already left my partner!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecqQpsz-LI/AAAAAAAAAKY/Nvs2Ig-zCJk/s1600-h/DSC01905.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecqQpsz-LI/AAAAAAAAAKY/Nvs2Ig-zCJk/s200/DSC01905.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325271549948983474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Candidates!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecqRF-VVvI/AAAAAAAAAKw/8nc_l_RFYqM/s1600-h/DSC01921.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecqRF-VVvI/AAAAAAAAAKw/8nc_l_RFYqM/s200/DSC01921.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325271557538666226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ms. Earthwatch Teens Candidates!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecqQn-FU-I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rAtrf6UZP_Y/s1600-h/DSC01907.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecqQn-FU-I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/rAtrf6UZP_Y/s200/DSC01907.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325271549484553186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my partner..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecrGnvcvaI/AAAAAAAAALI/BIKNp1cTgqE/s1600-h/DSC01942.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecrGnvcvaI/AAAAAAAAALI/BIKNp1cTgqE/s200/DSC01942.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325272477136108962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my talent..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecrGpx_hsI/AAAAAAAAALA/ykv4BeiVKF8/s1600-h/DSC01939.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecrGpx_hsI/AAAAAAAAALA/ykv4BeiVKF8/s200/DSC01939.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325272477683648194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after this talent, some of my batch mates call me as "paraiso"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecrGl9uL2I/AAAAAAAAAK4/XNE-zpObrvo/s1600-h/DSC01940.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecrGl9uL2I/AAAAAAAAAK4/XNE-zpObrvo/s200/DSC01940.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325272476659101538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of the show!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-7131209418390029864?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/7131209418390029864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=7131209418390029864' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7131209418390029864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7131209418390029864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/03/day-to-be-remembered-earthwatch-teens.html' title='A day to be remembered: Earthwatch Teens'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SecqQ5dWocI/AAAAAAAAAKo/c-sOC6D357g/s72-c/DSC01915.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-1982628979718451452</id><published>2009-03-27T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T05:41:31.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back-up hopping</title><content type='html'>Two days before the Earthwatch teens, I started looking for back-up. I started by asking them in yahoo messenger. Successfully, I got one. I ask a lot of male friends that night but only one approved. I wanted to sleep tight that night so I texted some friends if they can help me. Yet, I did not succeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day after that, I did not want to wake up. My heart pounded so fast. I don't know if I'm nervous or what. Then, I saw my cellphone and found a text message from one friend I texted the night before. Well, I did not reply anymore because I would see him in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I reached the school, my heart remained the same,pounding so fast. I could not bear it so I told my friend what I feel,she said that maybe I am just nervous for the upcoming event. But I'm sure, I'm not. This feeling is different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were in the room, I asked my classmates who can do a favor to me. No one is responding so I bowed and =,(.  Then, I suddenly felt a need to be alone. I planned to go in the Cr of the Chemistry Laboratory. But to my disappointment, the lab is still closed. I went to the person who understands me the most. I told her my problem. After that, I felt fine and went back to our room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to another friend who helped me all through this. She is the friend who truly solved this problem of mine. Thanks to her because even though we had a problem in our friendship, she is still there with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we were complete. We went to our house so we can practice.&lt;br /&gt;I could say that the practice is well-done.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to my friends who helped me with this.lolz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-1982628979718451452?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/1982628979718451452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=1982628979718451452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1982628979718451452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1982628979718451452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/03/back-up-hopping.html' title='Back-up hopping'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-4920375106391672187</id><published>2009-03-20T20:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T02:19:47.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prom: The Story Behind</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/ScSu1Vi0xjI/AAAAAAAAAKA/QseSGsm2yMc/s1600-h/1_784934025l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/ScSu1Vi0xjI/AAAAAAAAAKA/QseSGsm2yMc/s200/1_784934025l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315565691543537202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March 14,2009. huh! This is the day. The whole day, from the day I wake up, what I thought is the Junior-Senior Promenade.&lt;br /&gt;The first thing I did in the morning is to wake myself up that this is the much awaited day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At about 3:00 pm of the said day, we went to the parlor to have me maked-up. In that parlor, Tenten was there sitting. Then she greeted me with a lively,"ZabZab!" Tito Martin is putting make up on me while a lady is curling my hair. Tito Martin did not stop saying that I'm so beautiful. Then, I hope so. When he was done putting make up on me, he fixed my hair. I thought that my hair could have been fixed better if I still have a long hair. After that whole session of making-up, we were already done. I look like a lady already, actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went home. Yet, it is still too early. It was about 4:30 pm. I did not want to be too early in the venue. I spent my time watching television, yet, I did not know what is the show. My mind is very preoccupied by the prom. It was almost 6:00 pm when I told my mother that we must go. My mother called Papa 2 so we can leave. I was already not in the mood because it took a long time. I already went outside to wait there. And it's already 6:15 pm,mind me, our call time is 6:00 pm.At last, they came.When we were in the car, I was not really in the mood and I don't want to talk to anybody. I tried to smile to keep everything fine and calm but I failed. Thanks to Papa 2 that we reached Maragondon at about 6:45 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I expected the participants to be in their position in the processional.Yet, they were not. And they were all still in the clasrrom. I asked candle from Dra. Obillo. While we were in the room, I had picture taking with my cousin,her mother,my mother, and Tenten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went in front of the Chem. Lab. to be prepared for the processional. There, we had picture taking with my classmates and friends. Also, I had a chance to have a picture with the J5. That will be so memorable. My mother brought me to the studio where I can have a picture, with a background. I had two solo pictures an a picture with my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last the party started. We had our processional. In the candle lighting, I had a chance to be pictured by the photographer with my partner, kuya Jerome. After that ceremony, we sat on our respective tables and hear the speeches of our fellow participants. Their speeches were so long and most of them had difficulty in saying their memorized speeches. Yet, it was not too obvious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner time! I was not able to eat a lot, but I was full.During that time, I went out the venue to change my clothes. I wore an orange cocktail ang I was so cute in that dress. It had feathers and somebody even asked me, " How many chicken have you killed?" lolz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most awaited time had arrived. We had our social dances and the two cotillions. I think, we all did great. After all the dances, it's party time! We danced hiphop, and sadly, I was not with my section that time, I was with the other group. But i did not regret that, I'm happier with them.No offense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hurriedly went to the room to change a more comfortable outfit, a violet gown. And, I'm so comfy with that. We went back and had party. I enjoyed myself a lot. This prom is just once in a lifetime, for a CNSHSian. I bonded and danced with my batchmates. Also, our section had a picture in the studio, we're all so cute in that picture. The party continued when suddenly, a slow song came that pushed everybody to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw my boy batchmates ask their girlfriends to dance with them. And watching it was so sweet.I thought that time that I'll be contented in watching them.&lt;br /&gt;But that's not the thing meant to me,I had a boy asked me for a dance, my first dance.I can't explain a feeling of an unexpected first dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it continued. My batchmates boys danced with me. And I'm happy that they danced with me even though they have their special someones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the awarding came. Ate Serene got the best in gown while Kuya Earvin got the Best in suit. Ria and Kuya Alrich were the Darling of the night. Ate Geri Mae and Kuya Eugene were the Senior sweethearts and Glen and Kristel were the Junior sweethearts. And lastly, of coarse, Aaron and Ate Tin-ann were the prom king and queen, as what I expected. lolz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, party time. Almost all were not in the mood to dance. I just sat and be one of them. Then the slow song was played. And i get the chance to dance with the prom king and other batchmates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there are few things that I did not want this prom. First, there was no enough food and drinks to support my body which is so energetic.Second, two of my closest boy "friends" did not dance with me, namely Froiland Timpoc and Paulo Dones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But thanks to the boys who danced with me this prom, namely,Martin, Harry, Ronhel, Louie,Stanford, Kodie, Nobie, Ian, Aaron, Vj, Richard,Justin and kuya Michael. I'll remember them forever.lolz. And most specially to my girlfriends who made this prom a memorable one, Blez, Pam, Viel, Ten, Cam, Claude, Cha.For short, my batchmates, especially 3-N and 3-O family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More proms to come!-----------&gt;asa!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-4920375106391672187?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/4920375106391672187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=4920375106391672187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4920375106391672187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4920375106391672187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/03/prom-story-behind.html' title='Prom: The Story Behind'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/ScSu1Vi0xjI/AAAAAAAAAKA/QseSGsm2yMc/s72-c/1_784934025l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-4317863360594333241</id><published>2009-03-19T04:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T20:07:33.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>JS Promenade</title><content type='html'>&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widgets.metrolyrics.com/o/492da13d111f5ab4/49c237342ef4bed5/492da13d46e17ea3/2f6ae9eb/-cpid/df594fbcf5c84d00" id="W492da13d111f5ab449c237342ef4bed5" width="300" height="270"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://widgets.metrolyrics.com/o/492da13d111f5ab4/49c237342ef4bed5/492da13d46e17ea3/2f6ae9eb/-cpid/df594fbcf5c84d00" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowNetworking" value="all" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/"&gt;Lyrics&lt;/a&gt; | &lt;a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/kelly-clarkson-lyrics.html"&gt;Kelly Clarkson Lyrics&lt;/a&gt; | &lt;a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/because-of-you-lyrics-kelly-clarkson.html"&gt;Because Of You Lyrics&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the song of my first dance..hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might think why I'm posting this blog, when I, HATED JS prom.&lt;br /&gt;I admit, I DID not like it, before.&lt;br /&gt;But now, I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/ScRZ1MkbIEI/AAAAAAAAAJw/pZ9cIGX6qzg/s1600-h/1_127702020l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/ScRZ1MkbIEI/AAAAAAAAAJw/pZ9cIGX6qzg/s200/1_127702020l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315472230645964866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REASON #1:&lt;br /&gt;I love it. I now love to dance in the social dance I was chosen in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REASON #2:&lt;br /&gt;Though I did not get to have a diet before the JS prom, I feel happy that I feel beautiful during the prom. lolz. It's not that I'm so confident about myself. I just love the way I look that night. And I did not feel that I'm fat. It's just that," To be sexy, you must feel sexy." lolz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REASON #3:&lt;br /&gt;I did not have a partner in jive. So, I did not have a problem in getting along with a partner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REASON #4:&lt;br /&gt;Many of my "BOY" friends asked me to dance with them. And I'm satisfied that they remembered me that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REASON #5:&lt;br /&gt;"Issue 5:&lt;br /&gt;I want to dance with somebody but I don't think he'll ask me to dance with him."&lt;br /&gt;I don't mind this problem anymore. All I can say is that I was happy during the prom. It's no big deal if the person I'm pertaining to in that line danced with me or not.=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REASON #6:&lt;br /&gt;I now know the reason why we practiced before tha prom, for it to be a succesful one. Hence, it was succesful! And many viewers said that they've never seen a prom as beautiful as that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REASON #7:&lt;br /&gt;I had my first dance, of coarse. And I am happy and contented with that.=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REASON #8:&lt;br /&gt;I am just happy and I enjoyed the JS Promenade a lot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-4317863360594333241?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/4317863360594333241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=4317863360594333241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4317863360594333241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4317863360594333241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/03/js-promenade.html' title='JS Promenade'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/ScRZ1MkbIEI/AAAAAAAAAJw/pZ9cIGX6qzg/s72-c/1_127702020l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-114763904979262863</id><published>2009-02-20T04:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T01:23:13.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The best of the best day in OZONE..so far</title><content type='html'>I don't know what this day have. But I admit, I am very happy this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This started lunch time. I went out with a friend to have lunch. When we returned, we sat in front of the Chemistry Laboratory. Other 3-Oxygen boys were also there. One by one, two by two, three by three, more than half of the section were already there. We almost did not fit in the place. lolz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had our bonding time by making a hot stand(because it's hot in front of the lab.). One by one, a person will be in the hot stand. He/she must answer the questions that are asked. Some of the boys were very honest while some are denying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This stopped when Ma'am Mye came. We have to check our test papers. Sad that the time is so short but happy because in spite of that, we had bonded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the day that I realized that I'm a true blood 3-O!lolz.&lt;br /&gt;Sad that this happen when vacation is already near and when I'm already close with my classmates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just so sad that things happen when it's too late...&lt;quote from Tenten&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-114763904979262863?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/114763904979262863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=114763904979262863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/114763904979262863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/114763904979262863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/02/best-of-best-day-in-ozoneso-far.html' title='The best of the best day in OZONE..so far'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-7560331537568088331</id><published>2009-02-19T03:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T03:55:02.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prom Issues</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZ1VqIwIYPI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3yDsxqMEkXA/s1600-h/3109662850_dc03ccfe92.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 136px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZ1VqIwIYPI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3yDsxqMEkXA/s200/3109662850_dc03ccfe92.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304490118504538354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When will the lion fall in love with the lamb..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I was excited.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am so excited for the Junior-Senior prom to end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Issue 1:&lt;br /&gt;I hate it. I'm dreaming of being in the cotillion, for 3 nights. I hate it that my dream is to be part of that dance when I am not. I dance for jive. And the steps were so hard, and jumpy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Issue 2:&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting fat. Not only me who noticed it. Many people noticed it. First, our teacher. Second, my classmates. Third, my relatives. Fourth, the mirror. I have only three weeks to lose weight. And I don't think I can do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Issue 3:&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know who my partner is. And I'm scared I will not like him or he will not like me as a partner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Issue 4:&lt;br /&gt;I don't think somebody will ask me to dance this prom. I've asked a lot of male friends to dance with me. But I am not satisfied with those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Issue 5:&lt;br /&gt;I want to dance with somebody but I don't think he'll ask me to dance with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Issue 6:&lt;br /&gt;I hate the practices. It is conducted every Saturday and that's our only time to rest. My cousins asked me, "Why are you practicing? JS Prom doesn't need to be practice...if your not part of the cotillion."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Issue 7:&lt;br /&gt;I hate to know who my first dance is, or if there will be. For me, first dance is so important. I hope that HE, whoever he is, will be a special one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Issue 8:&lt;br /&gt;I am not happy with this prom anymore, nor am I excited!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When will I found someone, who I can live forever..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-7560331537568088331?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/7560331537568088331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=7560331537568088331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7560331537568088331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7560331537568088331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/02/prom-issues.html' title='Prom Issues'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZ1VqIwIYPI/AAAAAAAAAJo/3yDsxqMEkXA/s72-c/3109662850_dc03ccfe92.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-5779387058646377673</id><published>2009-02-17T03:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T20:08:26.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>J5!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/ScRaJMLinKI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/6TeFkHb1p40/s1600-h/1_819421225l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/ScRaJMLinKI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/6TeFkHb1p40/s200/1_819421225l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315472574138981538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know when J5 started? It was a long story. It all started with a bonding time with Paulo, Kim, Stanford. Although Camille was not with us, Paulo insisted to include her. lolz. J5. 5 obviously means that we are five in this group. And the J? It's our business,not yours.lolz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Famous quotes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paulo Nicole Dones&lt;br /&gt;" Sinabi ko mahal kita, hindi ko sinabing mahalin mo rin ako"&lt;br /&gt;This is the quote I truly remember about you Pau..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kim Jerome Peliña&lt;br /&gt;"Peter pan asked me to go with him in Netherland, where you'll stay forever young. But I rejected, because I want to grow old with you"&lt;br /&gt;(not exactly like that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camille Alas&lt;br /&gt;"If you don't love the person at all, don't give him the reason to love you even more"&lt;br /&gt;I know Cam, that this quote is not fitted to you, but it's the most remarkable quote for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stanford Ordonez&lt;br /&gt;"Don't ever think that I'll make you try to stay"&lt;br /&gt;Like Cam's this quote is what I remember about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not the least..&lt;br /&gt;Zaborah Bobadilla&lt;br /&gt;"I was just another girl for you, I thought maybe someone, MAYBE..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, the five of us are not truly so close, but maybe close. I enjoy your company guys. Especially the SM trip with Pau, Kim, and Stan. You knew how scary I was. Camille,do I need to include you? lolz, of coarse. 3rd year life is nothing without you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoy your company guys. May our friendship last the longest!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-5779387058646377673?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/5779387058646377673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=5779387058646377673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/5779387058646377673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/5779387058646377673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/02/j5.html' title='J5!'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/ScRaJMLinKI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/6TeFkHb1p40/s72-c/1_819421225l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-6295897439952965574</id><published>2009-02-15T04:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T04:36:25.514-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day: Where could I hide?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgK0lcwEKI/AAAAAAAAAJg/TdDHaQcZSSU/s1600-h/3279320273_235bf0d700_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgK0lcwEKI/AAAAAAAAAJg/TdDHaQcZSSU/s200/3279320273_235bf0d700_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303000459750936738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's Day is what every couple wait for, and what every single people hate to.&lt;br /&gt;And I one of the every single people who don't want Valentines day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I myself, wishes for a perfect Valentine's Day. A special person would give me roses, bear, and chocolates. Never in my life did I receive any special gifts on Valentines. I think that this will remain like this, yet, I hope not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three Valentines day had passed this high school life just like an ordinary day, for me. I would want to think, am i that ugly and unattractive? Do boys hate me? Am I not the kind of girl who can be loved?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still wishing for my perfect Valentine's day. I can wait, but I hope soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-6295897439952965574?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/6295897439952965574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=6295897439952965574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6295897439952965574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6295897439952965574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-day-where-could-i-hide.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day: Where could I hide?'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgK0lcwEKI/AAAAAAAAAJg/TdDHaQcZSSU/s72-c/3279320273_235bf0d700_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-1776455051504479736</id><published>2009-02-15T01:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T22:56:19.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not a Fairytale</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfk4Lv1NtI/AAAAAAAAAIY/W-pouwQanbE/s1600-h/Disney-Cinderella-Letter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 146px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfk4Lv1NtI/AAAAAAAAAIY/W-pouwQanbE/s200/Disney-Cinderella-Letter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302958740129265362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every girl would love to live in a fairytale, to have a prince who will treat her as his princess. A princess wishes to like Cinderella and live in a happy ever after and to be Aurora and be awaken from her deep sleep by his charming prince. As a girl, me myself dreams to have a love story like a fairytale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once thought I met my prince charming. I perfectly like him. He as the looks, attitude, brain and talent who will pass as a knight in shining armor. From then on, I thought that I could be his princess. I thought that he could save me from being alone. I'm attracted to him and I thought he is to me. He gave me the reason to like him even more, that is why I thought he likes me. I want to know everything about him. I want to know what he likes and what he doesn't want. I love to see him smile and that makes me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Months passed then I saw him with a lady.Then I realized that there can't be a fairytale with me and him. I was shocked and just accepted it. Sometimes, witches are better than princesses. I saw him happy with his princess so i decided to move on and find for a prince who deserves me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't want to think of these as a sad ending. All I know is that this is just a preparation before I meet my real prince. Well we should have kissed few more frogs to find our prince.This is just a start of a new beginning.Now, I'm still waiting for my prince but not looking for him. My knight in shining armor who will have me as her one and only princess. With him, we will have a fairytale come true. And we will have a happily ever after.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-1776455051504479736?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/1776455051504479736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=1776455051504479736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1776455051504479736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1776455051504479736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/02/not-fairytale.html' title='Not a Fairytale'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfk4Lv1NtI/AAAAAAAAAIY/W-pouwQanbE/s72-c/Disney-Cinderella-Letter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-4046304866874253655</id><published>2009-02-15T01:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T01:54:41.053-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One-sided love: So Hard</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfmWjJgboI/AAAAAAAAAIg/MftUcXSbqCU/s1600-h/83a5b8676d3c862a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 95px; height: 145px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfmWjJgboI/AAAAAAAAAIg/MftUcXSbqCU/s200/83a5b8676d3c862a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302960361318674050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a crush is the stage before being in love. Though sometimes, it doesn't move on the next stage and the admiration vanishes. This feeling, usually comes to us on our teenage life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I saw him, I already noticed him. He's not that attractive to my eyes yet he caught my attention. We're not friends. But, we know each other. There came a time that we got to have the same circle of friends, but we're not close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I like him. And I admire him, a lot. I want to know everything about him, what he likes, and what he hates. That's our scene, the only scene. I like him. I love looking at him. And I can't explain this feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is it. I just admire him and I know that it will just remain as admiration. For I know, our feeling is not mutual. I like him and he loves somebody, and that is not me. In this story, there can never be we.&lt;/3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-4046304866874253655?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/4046304866874253655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=4046304866874253655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4046304866874253655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4046304866874253655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-sided-love-so-hard.html' title='One-sided love: So Hard'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfmWjJgboI/AAAAAAAAAIg/MftUcXSbqCU/s72-c/83a5b8676d3c862a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-1954840959750911311</id><published>2009-01-30T05:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T04:24:31.462-08:00</updated><title type='text'>one for all..ALL FOR ONE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgIkOObnlI/AAAAAAAAAJY/2e_cNkwOgVw/s1600-h/1_987248428l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 126px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgIkOObnlI/AAAAAAAAAJY/2e_cNkwOgVw/s200/1_987248428l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302997979615698514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One for all, All for one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was once part of that motto, but now i don't think so. I'm just so sad and disappointed to accept that fact.&lt;br /&gt;But I truly miss the Nitrogen family. Though, others would say in that it's not good to be in that section. I hate to hear them say that. It seems like I am hurt, for them. Yet, I must not be,because I am not part of them anymore.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Conclusion:&lt;br /&gt;I love them and I still want to be part of them,again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-1954840959750911311?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/1954840959750911311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=1954840959750911311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1954840959750911311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1954840959750911311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-for-allall-for-one.html' title='one for all..ALL FOR ONE'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgIkOObnlI/AAAAAAAAAJY/2e_cNkwOgVw/s72-c/1_987248428l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-4094805039258383632</id><published>2009-01-30T04:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T04:17:05.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LISTEN: She's my idol!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgGxOYySTI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/nluINDV9Qus/s1600-h/1_821182105m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgGxOYySTI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/nluINDV9Qus/s200/1_821182105m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302996003974170930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to show CNSHS' Campus Idol for 2009. We were all so happy to hear that she is the Campus Idol, she deserves it for she have the amazing voice. Not only that, she is a great friend. She truly deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other contestants were also good. Yet, Tenten did it!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yipee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy for her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I also want to congratulate my other batch mates , and former classmates who did it to the finals, Aaron and A-jae. Congratulations Guys! You were also good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-4094805039258383632?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/4094805039258383632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=4094805039258383632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4094805039258383632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4094805039258383632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/01/listen-shes-my-idol.html' title='LISTEN: She&apos;s my idol!'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgGxOYySTI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/nluINDV9Qus/s72-c/1_821182105m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-4650604785960613959</id><published>2009-01-30T04:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T04:05:32.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shocking Revelation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgEIMk0zKI/AAAAAAAAAJI/B5kB-cgsy0U/s1600-h/368181301_4069b8564a_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 114px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgEIMk0zKI/AAAAAAAAAJI/B5kB-cgsy0U/s200/368181301_4069b8564a_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302993100089904290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want to say that this day shocked me so much.&lt;br /&gt;First, I was shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, I was hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, I'm ready to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From this day on, I'll make it sure to myself that I would like someone who also likes me. I don't want to fee those three stages anymore. All I want is to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would not feel this way again. My heart won't feel this ache again. I pretended that I don't care. But, I do. You would not know that. This heart won't break, the way you did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-4650604785960613959?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/4650604785960613959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=4650604785960613959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4650604785960613959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4650604785960613959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/01/shocking-revelation.html' title='Shocking Revelation'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgEIMk0zKI/AAAAAAAAAJI/B5kB-cgsy0U/s72-c/368181301_4069b8564a_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-6943312307002650390</id><published>2009-01-12T05:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T03:59:17.834-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stick to the Status Quo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgCaf6ulyI/AAAAAAAAAJA/8oTpNNuhvQU/s1600-h/1_140084638l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgCaf6ulyI/AAAAAAAAAJA/8oTpNNuhvQU/s200/1_140084638l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302991215496435490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Status Quo: The used to be situation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, as Zaborah Eunice Bobadilla, follow one simple status quo, to be Zaborah. It is not the Zaborah I always want to. Some are used to the Zaborah who doesn't break the rules, who is intelligent, who is kind, and who is prim and proper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is Zaborah. But inside me, I also want to be someone who is really me. It is so hard to follow all the rules. I also want to break the rules. It is so hard to be always proper. I also want to be improper whenever I'm too happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following the status quo doesn't always mean disadvantages. It also shows advantages for it have good outcomes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still, from this day on, I would be the Zab they want and I want. I 'll just make it sure to myself that I am doing it, for myself and not for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me. This is real!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-6943312307002650390?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/6943312307002650390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=6943312307002650390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6943312307002650390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6943312307002650390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/01/stick-to-status-quo.html' title='Stick to the Status Quo'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZgCaf6ulyI/AAAAAAAAAJA/8oTpNNuhvQU/s72-c/1_140084638l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-1619228758398076683</id><published>2009-01-09T03:54:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T03:42:07.298-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year and Birthday: A way to start a year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfv4gpL6hI/AAAAAAAAAI4/Yw0QJ98oWmY/s1600-h/715034639_aa6d9d081a_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfv4gpL6hI/AAAAAAAAAI4/Yw0QJ98oWmY/s200/715034639_aa6d9d081a_m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302970840366443026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's new year! Again, everyone must be happy, noisy and awake! But guess what me, Aga, and Mommy did this New Year. We slept. You would say that it was the most boring New Year ever. But hell, to tell you the truth it was not. We had the countdown together with the television. I was so happy that the three of us our together and we were safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We slept, together. At least, we're together. Some family celebrates their New Year noisy and awake, but they are not happy because they are not complete. Even though, my mother is separated with my father, I treat our family, complete. For this is where we are happy of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up from my deep sleep. I'm fifteen! And I'm no longer fourteen. I'm a year older. But this day is not my day. I had my stomach ache. Maybe, because I ate a lot last night. My relatives were at our house to celebrate. I was so sad because I did not have my only wish, a cake. For,all the stores are sold out. Yet, I expected for my mother to find a way but there's none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day passed being me, lonely. I checked my accounts to see who greeted me. Many greeted me, yet, the person I want to greet me did not even greet me. Hell! This is the birthday I don't want to be in again, EVER!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-1619228758398076683?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/1619228758398076683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=1619228758398076683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1619228758398076683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1619228758398076683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-and-birthday-way-to-start-year.html' title='New Year and Birthday: A way to start a year'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfv4gpL6hI/AAAAAAAAAI4/Yw0QJ98oWmY/s72-c/715034639_aa6d9d081a_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-8269680905805700128</id><published>2008-12-19T04:03:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T02:32:29.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chistmas Party:Happy or Unhappy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfsoyo2guI/AAAAAAAAAIw/v5OMvf9Hv4s/s1600-h/1_438510553l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfsoyo2guI/AAAAAAAAAIw/v5OMvf9Hv4s/s200/1_438510553l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302967271784088290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know that this Christmas party, I should be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As usual, it is already a tradition in CNSHS to have a program on the morning of the Christmas party. We had it. And we had a lot of games but I didn't join any. The SALIW danced before starting the program.&lt;br /&gt;Lunch time, we ate in Claro's and went to Camille's house. We changed our clothes there. I was wearing a dress and I feel so uncomfortable. During the program, I didn't participate in any game again. Then, the 3-N performed dancing "ONE FOR ALL, ALL FOR ONE". That time, I felt so bored and wanted the day to end.&lt;br /&gt;After the program, we went up and ate. While eating with Camille, I opened her the feelings that I feel, then, my tears just fell.&lt;br /&gt;On the giving of our gifts,I received a "twilight" book from Paulo, my only wish. Again I became so emotional. Only now that I realized the reason for that reaction. That's the time I felt that I am being loved, by a friend. That was the reason why I cried, I felt so alone.&lt;br /&gt;When we had our flag retreat, I was able to have a picture taking with Pam, Viel,and Claude. That was so unforgettable. We got together again.&lt;br /&gt;Many says that this is their happiest Christmas party. But for me, this is the worst.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-8269680905805700128?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/8269680905805700128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=8269680905805700128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8269680905805700128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8269680905805700128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/12/chistmas-partyhappy-or-unhappy_19.html' title='Chistmas Party:Happy or Unhappy?'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfsoyo2guI/AAAAAAAAAIw/v5OMvf9Hv4s/s72-c/1_438510553l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-8496670976821754590</id><published>2008-12-12T22:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T02:18:49.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DecEmber 8!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfrnDIZFUI/AAAAAAAAAIo/LsoK1GO6ri4/s1600-h/1_851715787l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfrnDIZFUI/AAAAAAAAAIo/LsoK1GO6ri4/s200/1_851715787l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302966142339978562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Dei's house today because it is the feast day in Naic. As usual, I ate a lot. I'm happy this day because I'm together with my former classmates. And we had together a bonding time. I miss them a lot! How I wish they miss me too...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-8496670976821754590?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/8496670976821754590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=8496670976821754590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8496670976821754590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8496670976821754590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/12/december-8.html' title='DecEmber 8!'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SZfrnDIZFUI/AAAAAAAAAIo/LsoK1GO6ri4/s72-c/1_851715787l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-2612318191123733815</id><published>2008-11-30T03:59:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T02:14:46.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Blessille!!!</title><content type='html'>Today is Blessille's birthday. I gave her a gift during recess time. I was so happy, because I felt that she is happy.&lt;br /&gt;I gave her a letter, and that letter was so touching, I think, for me. I planned to surprise her by giving her a letter. And all her friends must write there. But sadly, I did not succeed in that plan. But still, I was able to celebrate her birthday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-2612318191123733815?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/2612318191123733815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=2612318191123733815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2612318191123733815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2612318191123733815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-birthday-blessille.html' title='Happy Birthday Blessille!!!'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-7566727312469461960</id><published>2008-11-30T03:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T02:10:52.197-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MATH FEST:A History</title><content type='html'>We had the first ever Math Festival in our school. It was so much fun and we had a lot of activities.&lt;br /&gt;We fought in the Math quiz but we did not win. Sad, but happy because we went to the seventh place.&lt;br /&gt;The most exciting is the Mr. and Ms. Mathaba. The third years representative sre Kathreen and  Martin. But, they were not able to impress the judges so they settle in the fourth place. But again, the third years rejoice when we won and defeated the fourth years again, in the Math Jingle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-7566727312469461960?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/7566727312469461960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=7566727312469461960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7566727312469461960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7566727312469461960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/11/math-festa-history.html' title='MATH FEST:A History'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-7168965482154183861</id><published>2008-11-30T03:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T02:06:23.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Swimming with my new family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/STJ9EsG2y5I/AAAAAAAAAH0/Tp5Z7H4Jwvc/s1600-h/1_978652369l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/STJ9EsG2y5I/AAAAAAAAAH0/Tp5Z7H4Jwvc/s200/1_978652369l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274415633117137810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October 27,2008&lt;br /&gt;This day, we went swimming to celebrate the birthday of our one and only,KODIE. I went with Paulo, as usual. We bought food together and we went to Terrence's Residence, our meeting place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we went to shoreline. Together with the 3-oxygen are Kodie's friends. I had a lot of fun with them though I'm not yet that close. We had a lot of foods and I ate a lot. We had some picture takings and Stanford even "pinulikat" in the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so much fun with them. And I wish there will be next time,with them, my new family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-7168965482154183861?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/7168965482154183861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=7168965482154183861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7168965482154183861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7168965482154183861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/11/swimming-with-my-new-family.html' title='Swimming with my new family'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/STJ9EsG2y5I/AAAAAAAAAH0/Tp5Z7H4Jwvc/s72-c/1_978652369l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-1230220850832693213</id><published>2008-11-30T03:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T04:02:24.469-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to where I belong</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/STJ8CIGWJ-I/AAAAAAAAAHs/_m_kWD0O77Y/s1600-h/1_587879140l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/STJ8CIGWJ-I/AAAAAAAAAHs/_m_kWD0O77Y/s200/1_587879140l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274414489579956194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October 19,2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   October 18 was the birthday of my best friend, Airysh. But she decided to celebrate it a day after. I was invited to go, so why wouldn't I? I miss them a lot. I went there so early. Their house wasn't even fixed yet. So Airysh let me stay in her room, with Airhon.&lt;br /&gt;   Being in their house feels like elementary. I don't know why, but when I'm with them, all I think about is our elementary days. But why is that when I'm with them, I DON'T THINK THE HAPPINESS THOSE ELEMENTARY DAYS CAN SATISFY MY HAPPINESS THIS HIGH SCHOOL LIFE.&lt;br /&gt;   Maybe they are right. High School Life is the best as they say. But am I being fair? I am so happy being in high school that I'm not happy with them anymore.&lt;br /&gt;WHAT A SHAME ON YOU ZAB! Reminiscing on the elementary days, I used to cry for I don't wanna go high school.But now, I don't wanna leave high school to return elementary. It's such a crazy world!&lt;br /&gt;   After waiting for an hour, my best friend's best friend came. Actually, I'm not surprised that she could find a best friend to replace me. Because me myself, I've found friends. But honestly, I'm jealous of the friendship that they have. It seems that Airysh is happier with her company than in my company. Well, LIFE IS FAIR. If she's happy, then I'm happy.&lt;br /&gt;   Let's go back to the story. After another hour, Glen with Heide came. Actually, I do not know Heide personally because she's a new comer so we're not talking to much. Glen Philip S. Baluyot, on the opposite side, was so talkative. He keeps on asking me how my life in Cavite National Science is. I couldn't say that I'm so happy that I leave Academy of Saint John.LOL.&lt;br /&gt;   Dean, Zaila,and Cedrick then followed. We ate together and had picture taking. But I could say, I'm happy with them yet not so expressive. Ate Charm came and I saw her closeness with Zaira. I just told myself, "It should have been me."&lt;br /&gt;  Good times with them are so memorable. How I wish I could bond with the whole batch I left. I wanna ask them,"How's life now?Do you miss me?" I'm quite sure they miss me because I miss them too.&lt;br /&gt;  Reminiscing those elementary days feels like going to childhood once again. Talking to person then after a time your friends. Having problems with your best friend then after a while your mortal enemies.Yet, if these things can't be avoided, it can be possibly solved.&lt;br /&gt;HIGH SCHOOL DAYS: The most exciting;&lt;br /&gt;ELEMENTARY DAYS: THE UNPREDICTABLE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-1230220850832693213?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/1230220850832693213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=1230220850832693213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1230220850832693213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1230220850832693213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/11/back-to-where-i-belong.html' title='Back to where I belong'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/STJ8CIGWJ-I/AAAAAAAAAHs/_m_kWD0O77Y/s72-c/1_587879140l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-6782555167321399519</id><published>2008-10-12T03:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T04:56:27.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What an Overnight with them!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHU5VdsegI/AAAAAAAAAGY/kuelLn03sAc/s1600-h/1_314794435l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHU5VdsegI/AAAAAAAAAGY/kuelLn03sAc/s200/1_314794435l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256216321597405698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had an overnight at Tenten's house! With, of coarse, Tenten, Blessile, Viellka, Chala, Jenna, Nobie, Aaron, Justin, Carlo. Froiland, Katrina and Maikka also went there but did not sleep there.&lt;br /&gt;At first, it was a disaster. We went on Mister Donut to buy smidgets. Then, we saw Kuya Jony. Blez and I decided to ride with him. He was waiting for Aaron and Nobie. For about 30 minutes, they were not yet coming. We saw Froiland in the bus. Blez and I decided just to ride the bus for we are waiting too long and we thought that they would not come anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We rode the bus. But the bus still stopped in front of Chowking for about 5 minutes. GOSH! IS THIS MEANT TO HAPPEN? I thought. At last, we arrived at Tenten's house feeling so tired. Then, Tenten received a text message from Nobie that they are already in Tanza. HUH?!Ok. Cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last they arrived. I, together with Blez,Froi, Aaron and Nobie, ate. I felt fine that time. I'm already full! Yipee. We went to their music room and sang there. But then I decided to change my clothes already. When I went out, I go with Justin playing the computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blez asked me to eat with her, so I did. Aaron went with us. We ate dessert! yummy! After that, I left them and sang in the magic sing. Blez followed and only the two of us were left there. We sang about 5 songs and leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed in the room and watched Scary Movie.That was about 11 pm. and when it ended, we ate again. After that, we watched Shutter. I was almost asleep that time. But when there were scenes that are suspense, I became awake! The people who were sleeping woke up when they heard us shouting. hahaha. The movie ended and we ate again. After eating, we played stop dance. Nobie was taking pictures and videos. It must have been a scandal.hahaha.We took pictures. And take note, we had picture taking in the comfort room! After that, we were so tired and lay on the bed. it was about 2:30 am. Good Morning!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:30 am, Blez, Viel and I are already awake. We took pictures of them sleeping. After that, we wake them up. We went to Pam's house and wake her up. They looked at the photos of Pam. And in her elementary days, I was there. hahaha. I am extra in all the pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate breakfast, a very heavy one. Then we watched WANTED. I slept while they were watching. And when the film ended. I already went home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE END!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-6782555167321399519?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/6782555167321399519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=6782555167321399519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6782555167321399519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6782555167321399519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/10/what-overnight-with-them.html' title='What an Overnight with them!'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHU5VdsegI/AAAAAAAAAGY/kuelLn03sAc/s72-c/1_314794435l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-7197154446833252868</id><published>2008-10-12T02:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T05:13:46.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Basketball girls is for the Macintosh</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHJ-DO2ZVI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/9rCudnr2er0/s1600-h/1_406356125l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHJ-DO2ZVI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/9rCudnr2er0/s200/1_406356125l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256204307974743378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OCTOBER 9&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Red Macintosh had a great game with the Blue Vaio, the Red's greatest enemy. Don't misinterpret, it was just last Intramural.&lt;br /&gt;At the first part of the game, the Red Macintosh is reigning with its players. These are including Charmaine dela Paz, Dei Telmo, Ria Vivo, Lerina Permantilla, Ann Bersamina,Jamare Resus, Jenna Cuapiaco, Tenten Obillo and many more. Dela Paz scored mostly. While Vivo, Telmo , Permantilla and Bersamina were so good in defense. With these skills thye Macintosh has, the Blue Vaio is losing with their players.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Red Macintosh was reigning as the game gets more intense and exciting. The tension between the players of the Vaio and the Macintosh grows stronger. But, the Red felt like being cheated. There were a lot of calls about fouls. Soon, the Blue Vaio come up with the score of 15.But still, the Red Macintosh remained ahead.&lt;br /&gt;There were a lot of cheers coming from the Red and the Blue. It seemed to be a cockpit fight. But the Red Macintosh still remained at the spot.&lt;br /&gt;Vaios went out the court feeling so wasted while the Macintosh even go inside the court ad cheered for the team. After that, the third years talked to Him and thank him, at the same time, asking for his guidance for them to win the next game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end, the Red Macintosh won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"ANG GURYON.Ang nagwawagi ay ang pusong marangal."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the motto of the third years and it was really true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-7197154446833252868?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/7197154446833252868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=7197154446833252868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7197154446833252868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7197154446833252868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/10/basketball-girls-is-for-macintosh.html' title='Basketball girls is for the Macintosh'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHJ-DO2ZVI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/9rCudnr2er0/s72-c/1_406356125l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-1220954622950401675</id><published>2008-10-12T02:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T05:13:01.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Year's Rejoice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHJtYU0FBI/AAAAAAAAAGI/JjcR4Cqq3Yo/s1600-h/1_136488146l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHJtYU0FBI/AAAAAAAAAGI/JjcR4Cqq3Yo/s200/1_136488146l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256204021579125778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OCTOBER 8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Volleyball Girls had been an exciting game on the second day of the Intramural 2008, especially the game between the Red Macintosh and the Green Acers. The third years were amazed by the first years. They didn't expect that they were that good. There was a close fight between the Red and the Green. On the first set of the game, the Red Macintosh still won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that the Red Macintosh lost their condition on the second set of the game. They lost their momentum when the Green Acers showed their goodness in the game. The viewers were amazed because the first years were so good. But still, no hesitations for the Red because they had a close fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the third set of the game, the Red and the Green excite the viewers. There were cheers coming from the Red Macintosh and from the Green Acers. Every move of the players showed their eagerness to win. But at the end, only one team ended the game smiling. The team shouted their team when they were sure that they won. ACERS!&lt;br /&gt;The coach and even the viewers were amazed by the Green Acers. It was not expected that they can beat the volleyball team of the Macintosh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Red Macintosh failed to win the game. But at the end, they realized that the first years were really good at volleyball. But then, they did not lose hope. They thought that they could still meet the Acers at the Championship game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;HELEN! HELEN! HELEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was the best among all the Green Acers. So everyone in the campus already knew her. Now, she is known for her greatness in the game. She is the pride of the First Years and together with her team, she gave the Acers something to be proud of. TEAM ACERS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-1220954622950401675?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/1220954622950401675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=1220954622950401675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1220954622950401675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1220954622950401675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/10/first-years-rejoice.html' title='First Year&apos;s Rejoice'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHJtYU0FBI/AAAAAAAAAGI/JjcR4Cqq3Yo/s72-c/1_136488146l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-5575674207572443025</id><published>2008-10-06T03:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T05:11:16.377-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RED DEFEATS GREEN</title><content type='html'>OCTOBER 6 &lt;br /&gt;Table Tennis girls singles 1 had been an exciting fight between the Red Macintosh and Green Acers. Blessille Claire Perea representing the juniors while Michaela Oledan representing the freshman excite the viewers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The talent of both players was already seen on their first game. They gave their power to the fullest. But Perea reigned the first set of the game and won in a lead of three points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second set of the game was such a sorrow to the Macintosh but a joy to the Acers. Oledan overcome Perea's talent by two points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the third set, there was tension between the players. The viewers were quiet trying to find out who will earn a point. But at the end, Oledan of Green Acers lost to Perea of the Red Macintosh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;TENENEN MACINTOSH. TENENEN MACTOSH. TENENEN EMTOSH. TENENEN TOSH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the cheer for the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashes to ashes&lt;br /&gt;Dust to dust&lt;br /&gt;We hate to beat you&lt;br /&gt;But we must, we must&lt;br /&gt;‘Coz when you’re up, you’re up&lt;br /&gt;And when you’re down, you’re down&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SP3GhjAzWbI/AAAAAAAAAHg/g6XlnhoUpTg/s1600-h/1_426833563l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SP3GhjAzWbI/AAAAAAAAAHg/g6XlnhoUpTg/s200/1_426833563l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259578219475196338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The juniors won first place in the cheer dance competition. They got the second place in the Mr. and Ms. Physique.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-5575674207572443025?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/5575674207572443025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=5575674207572443025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/5575674207572443025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/5575674207572443025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/10/red-defeats-green.html' title='RED DEFEATS GREEN'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SP3GhjAzWbI/AAAAAAAAAHg/g6XlnhoUpTg/s72-c/1_426833563l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-4230882746548481804</id><published>2008-09-28T05:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T04:23:17.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"My daughter had grown up"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHeHmfm99I/AAAAAAAAAGg/f2sBaa-a25M/s1600-h/c+MomMy+At+aQ....jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHeHmfm99I/AAAAAAAAAGg/f2sBaa-a25M/s200/c+MomMy+At+aQ....jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256226462291654610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....That day, a friend invited me to eat at McDo. I didn't hesitate to go with him because he told me that he'll treat me. We were half day that day. Actually, it's good to eat at McDo if you'll not pay anything.lolz.&lt;br /&gt;When I went home, I've seen that Mommy cooked tinolang manok.I just saw my mom lying on her bed watching television. I asked her if she received my text message.&lt;br /&gt;She said yes. I asked why she still cooked. She said that she had cooked when she received the text message. OK.&lt;br /&gt;But what disappoints me is that she told me that she is not eating because she's waiting for me. She chose to wait for me for us to eat together. But then she'll just receive a text message which will tell her not to wait for her daughter anymore.&lt;br /&gt;She just told me that. "Dalaga na talaga ang anak ko, hindi ko na kontrol ang oras niya."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-4230882746548481804?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/4230882746548481804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=4230882746548481804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4230882746548481804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4230882746548481804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-daughter-had-grown-up.html' title='&quot;My daughter had grown up&quot;'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHeHmfm99I/AAAAAAAAAGg/f2sBaa-a25M/s72-c/c+MomMy+At+aQ....jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-4941256263838541344</id><published>2008-09-27T05:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T04:27:06.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Very Special Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SOn1MfhFQuI/AAAAAAAAAGA/s7Ft25HyB7A/s1600-h/1_923546925l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SOn1MfhFQuI/AAAAAAAAAGA/s7Ft25HyB7A/s200/1_923546925l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254000035271885538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we celebrated a surprise birthday party for our one and only adviser, Ma'am Jackie. It was so happy and enjoying.&lt;br /&gt;The three-oxygen surprised Ma'am Jackie with cake, flower and balloons.&lt;br /&gt;It was such a bonding time for all of us, three oxygen. I never thought that I could feel this happiness with them. I thought I could not be happy.&lt;br /&gt;But I realized, I can be happy if I would want to..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks, 3-O...you're such a family to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-4941256263838541344?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/4941256263838541344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=4941256263838541344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4941256263838541344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4941256263838541344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/09/very-special-day.html' title='A Very Special Day'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SOn1MfhFQuI/AAAAAAAAAGA/s7Ft25HyB7A/s72-c/1_923546925l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-9174213691245501446</id><published>2008-09-21T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T04:25:45.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An Inspiration: My Idol</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHeoXeQuhI/AAAAAAAAAGo/zCRjqPOMwTI/s1600-h/PICT0237.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHeoXeQuhI/AAAAAAAAAGo/zCRjqPOMwTI/s200/PICT0237.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256227025195153938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a kind of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;person&lt;/span&gt; who can be easily influenced by people. And,I &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;admire&lt;/span&gt; many kinds of people. But, one person who is very influential and the most admired person for me is my &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;mother&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pinky Bobadilla&lt;/span&gt;. She is very loving, determined, persevering, helpful and strict in a good way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, she influenced me in a lot of ways.&lt;br /&gt;She influenced the way I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;dress&lt;/span&gt;, the way I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;eat&lt;/span&gt;, the way I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;walk&lt;/span&gt;, the way I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;speak&lt;/span&gt;,the things I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt;, the things I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;avoid&lt;/span&gt;, the friends I want to&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; have&lt;/span&gt;, the people I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; like, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;EVERYTHING&lt;/span&gt;. In short, she influenced the most important part of my being, my &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;attitude&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;I am what I am&lt;/span&gt; today because of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;her&lt;/span&gt;.She has been the most &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;significant change&lt;/span&gt; in my &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;life&lt;/span&gt;. Being a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;baby&lt;/span&gt; who used to &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;cry&lt;/span&gt;, now, I am a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;grown up&lt;/span&gt; and this is &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;all because of her&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-9174213691245501446?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/9174213691245501446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=9174213691245501446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/9174213691245501446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/9174213691245501446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/09/inspiration-my-idol.html' title='An Inspiration: My Idol'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SPHeoXeQuhI/AAAAAAAAAGo/zCRjqPOMwTI/s72-c/PICT0237.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-8813293628911272532</id><published>2008-09-17T04:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T00:46:16.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For YOU</title><content type='html'>The first time I saw you&lt;br /&gt;I felt something giving me a cue&lt;br /&gt;I thought that you'll cause change&lt;br /&gt;In my life which is strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have any idea who you are&lt;br /&gt;In fact, it's nothing that I care&lt;br /&gt;Different paths we were traveling&lt;br /&gt;But then,I knew you and became part of my being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At last our paths met&lt;br /&gt;How I wish everything is set&lt;br /&gt;I love the way you make me smile&lt;br /&gt;And I remember those even our distance is mile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you were mine&lt;br /&gt;I hope you know that sign&lt;br /&gt;I knew that I am yours&lt;br /&gt;I like you, of coarse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Like you, it's true&lt;br /&gt;I wish you feel the same thing too&lt;br /&gt;I love you, I'm not sure&lt;br /&gt;But my heart for you is pure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your admiration&lt;br /&gt;It become an inspiration&lt;br /&gt;Your one of my happiness's source&lt;br /&gt;'Coz an energy binds me to you with FORCE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-8813293628911272532?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/8813293628911272532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=8813293628911272532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8813293628911272532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8813293628911272532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/09/for-you.html' title='For YOU'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-827508943406590937</id><published>2008-09-04T03:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T05:57:33.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forever Real In Every Name Described</title><content type='html'>Friendship starts with a smile&lt;br /&gt;Sharing stories for awhile&lt;br /&gt;Being part of one another's treasure&lt;br /&gt;But at the same time giving pressure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Great power comes great responsibility."&lt;br /&gt;And you must have the ability&lt;br /&gt;Friendship requires a lot of acts&lt;br /&gt;Don't deny 'cause these are facts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being with each other gives fun&lt;br /&gt;Talks about everything under the sun&lt;br /&gt;Without each other, a day is not complete&lt;br /&gt;The time, you want to compete&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadness comes if you had a fight&lt;br /&gt;Thinking that every thing's unright&lt;br /&gt;As if you want to repeat the time &lt;br /&gt;For the happenings to rhyme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship, a thing in everyone's heart&lt;br /&gt;These are where promises start&lt;br /&gt;In each other's mind, you shine&lt;br /&gt;And think that he's your "mine"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-827508943406590937?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/827508943406590937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=827508943406590937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/827508943406590937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/827508943406590937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/09/power-of-friendship.html' title='Forever Real In Every Name Described'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-2153942532174553179</id><published>2008-08-30T23:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T00:02:45.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Done What I Can Do</title><content type='html'>The first quarter had already ended. And we've got our grades. I was the third in class. I don't know if I should be happy or what. My grades were fine in all subjects except for one. I expected it, but i also feel disappointed with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I did my best. But, I know it was not good enough. I feel sad that it wasn't that good enough. But I'll still try for me to satisfy myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit, I want to go back in the section where I used to be. It is not only because of my friends. It is also because I want something to be proud of. Not only for myself, but also for my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want it badly!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-2153942532174553179?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/2153942532174553179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=2153942532174553179' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2153942532174553179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2153942532174553179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/08/ive-done-what-i-can-do.html' title='I&apos;ve Done What I Can Do'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-2542384042312193695</id><published>2008-08-25T01:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T23:48:17.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Name "Zaborah"</title><content type='html'>Being a teenager, I've asked too many questions to my mother. One of those questions is where I got my very unique name. Do You wonder where I got my name Zaborah? It goes on like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was still in my mother's womb when she dreamed of something unexpected. She said that it was already my baptism and they were celebrating. She got a bottle and saw that the bottle was named Zaborah. She told it to my tito and said ' I now know what name I'll give to my baby,Zaborah, Z, A, B, O, R, A, H' Then suddenly, she woke up. She was about to tell my father about the dream. She said 'I now know what the name of our baby should be,' My father replied, 'Zaborah?' He said that he also dreamed. He dreamed that there is a baby in the crib. Then, there were children playing with the baby shouting, 'Zaborah,Zaborah'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's the story behind my name. At first, I don't want to believe it. I thought that it was just my mother's trick to fool me. But why should she fool me? And why should I fool you? It's up to you whether you believe it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till here,&lt;br /&gt;Zaborah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-2542384042312193695?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/2542384042312193695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=2542384042312193695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2542384042312193695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2542384042312193695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/08/childhood-days.html' title='My Name &quot;Zaborah&quot;'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-6809792767696258909</id><published>2008-08-23T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T01:14:47.312-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Just That I Love Him Longer</title><content type='html'>The days are passing so fast.Many people have passed. A lot of persons are remembered and sticked in our hearts. And a lot are also forget and just remained as memories. No one can deny that these things are happening because everyone had passed this kind of life, the kind of life when you have to meet and leave important persons.&lt;br /&gt;When I was in elementary, I hate to think that this thing is a fact. I did not want to leave my friends. I did not want to meet new friends. I thought that I was already contented with the persons I am with. I thought they would be the only persons I will be dealing with. I admit, I was afraid to deal with different persons.  I was afraid that the new persons that I would meet will not like me and hate me.&lt;br /&gt;But now, I thank the fact that we need to leave and meet new persons. Now, I know I could handle new friends with me.&lt;br /&gt;Still, I am wondering. What's the difference between my treatment with my first friends than my newly met friends? Being so happy with my new friends, it seems like I forgot my first friends. Maybe that's what life is really all about. Holding on if you could and letting go if you could not.&lt;br /&gt;I just thought, the advantage of old friends is that they are loved longer. But the advantage of new friends are they are loved stronger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-6809792767696258909?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/6809792767696258909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=6809792767696258909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6809792767696258909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6809792767696258909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-just-that-i-love-him-longer.html' title='It&apos;s Just That I Love Him Longer'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-8770268441592285473</id><published>2008-08-23T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T20:16:39.432-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Trip To Be Remembered</title><content type='html'>AUGUST 9, 2008, we had our field trip. As expected, we left the school as early as possible. I sat beside the mirror, with Nobie and Eli. At first, our road trip was fine, there were no distractions. But when we reached Manila, it was getting worst. Our bus stopped for about five times. Then, we saw the bus including the 3-N and the 3-F. We felt  happy because we knew that we were not left behind. But, our bus took a different way. HUH!!! What The Hell!!! But then we knew that we would have a bus stop.&lt;br /&gt;         I thought that there would be no problems occurring anymore because I thought, we stopped to check if there is something wrong with our engine. But then, what I thought was wrong! The bus still went on stopping and stopping when we were in Pampanga. And at last, it totally stopped when we were in front Petron Pampanga. It was very hot and very boring. They were waiting for rescuers but no one is coming. I think I did the best I could just to be calm and patient. Paulo, Nobie and I went down because we saw a man selling ice cream. Then, everybody followed.&lt;br /&gt;         At first, things went on just fine. In fact, we were still having picture taking. But when I knew that the other group had started the show, I felt so irritated and angry! I started feeling so bored. I sat in a place feeling so angry. Then, a person come. Somebody to fix the bus. But still, it took him a very long time. Feeling so depressed of what is happening, I get in the bus and started to lose hope. But at last, it started working!&lt;br /&gt;        Still our bus stopped several times in Pampanga. And we knew, we could not be in Ocean Adventure with the other groups. At last!!! We have finished passing in the evil of our bus,"Pampanga". I took a sleep when I had assured that there would be no problem. I woke up and saw Bulacan. For a short time,we had reached Subic and felt very happy. It rained so hard but still, our bus went on going. We took pictures of the views that were so nice.&lt;br /&gt;       We saw Zoobic Safari at last. We started having fun. We saw many kinds of animals, as expected. The most exciting of all was the tiger! Arrrggggghhhh! It felt so good that we reached our destination. I bought remembrance and "pasalubong". After that, we had our adventure in the ocean! Exciting!We had watched the monkeys, sea lions, dolphins and fishes. The most entertaining of all was the dolphins but I also liked the sea lions because they were so funny.&lt;br /&gt;        The adventure had gone to end. We went to the Duty Free and bought whatever we could buy. We just spent our time there for a very short time. I started sleeping again. I just woke up when we had reached Manila. When we were in coastal, we had a stop over in a gasoline station, with the other buses. We get in the Star Mart "The Place Where I Enjoyed the Most". It was so fun there because at last we had seen the other buses with us.&lt;br /&gt;       I leave Star Mart feeling so tired. So, I went on sleeping again. I woke up and saw the beautiful lights of Cavite. I thought, at last, I could continue sleeping in our house. We reached Tanza and I went down the bus.&lt;br /&gt;        I started sleeping in my bed and started thinking "This Is A Trip That I Can't Forget."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-8770268441592285473?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/8770268441592285473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=8770268441592285473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8770268441592285473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8770268441592285473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/08/trip-to-be-remembered.html' title='A Trip To Be Remembered'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-1850555597573547260</id><published>2008-08-02T00:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:11:42.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Change : The Only Thing Constant in this World</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I was able to reminisce things this week, especially this Friday. There were no people in the first year and second year building in the afternoon. They were half day. So, we had the chance to go around the building and reminisce about first year and second year days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;    It was so good and refreshing to think that we are already third year. As what a classmate says "Change is the only thing constant in this world." Yes, it's true. Everything changes. And I've truly proved it when I started reminiscing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;    Going through the One-Nitrogen pathway, I just said, "This was the part that we used to clean before." Now, it has a better appearance, better than before. As we walked going up stairs, it was still messy because they had made two rooms cemented. It was the faculty room and the Two-Nitrogen room, the place where memories were. The bulletin boards that we made when we were still sophomores were there. The writings that were so meaningful. I left a message that my heart was shouting that time, "I miss you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;    As time pass,  many things change. Not only physically, it also change emotionally. Physical changes, like in science, does not affect the chemical components of the matter. Thinking of people as matter, it changes physically, but it also change mentally and emotionally unlike in science.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;    Problems make people change. Time makes people change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Changes. Right. Changes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-1850555597573547260?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/1850555597573547260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=1850555597573547260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1850555597573547260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/1850555597573547260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/08/change-only-thing-constant-in-this.html' title='Change : The Only Thing Constant in this World'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-7012125392706943193</id><published>2008-07-24T03:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:10:40.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simply Me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I Don't Wanna Live Anymore!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I don't know why I say those words. Maybe, I just don't want to live in this kind of life. You know, having a lot of pressures in my mind at this time. I want to live in a way I want it to be. I don't want to have problems and live happily ever after. Maybe real life is too far from the fairy tales. But given a chance to live in a fairy tale, maybe I would have accepted it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so bored! I don't feel any thrill! My life is so boring and I think this is the most boring life any person can live. I just hope that an event would come that will make me happy and that will make me contented in this life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contentment. This is my problem. Why does a person like me is not yet contented? Well, is anyone contented with his life? If there is, I want to be that person. Maybe, a person would just be contented if someone will make him feel contented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A simple life. I'm not proud of saying that I am living in a simple life. I want a complicated life. I'm so confused! Whatever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me. And this is my life.&lt;br /&gt;Only me can understand myself.&lt;br /&gt;Only me.&lt;br /&gt;This is me, simply me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-7012125392706943193?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/7012125392706943193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=7012125392706943193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7012125392706943193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7012125392706943193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/07/simply-me.html' title='Simply Me...'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-4487431135906754107</id><published>2008-07-22T04:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:12:14.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Acts Like A Father</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;       A thoughtful, caring and a supportive man, he is my father. He is not my biological father but he acts like more than a father to me, my mom's brother , PAPA 2. That is what makes him thoughtful, treating me as her daughter, even though not. Every time he goes in some place to relax, he usually asks me if I want to go with them and his family. Not only that, he is very caring. He often ask me if I need something. And if I do, he'll do anything he can just to provide it. He usually protect me from harm of other people, he is concerned. Also, he can be classified to those of the supportive fathers. In school, he had attended some of our programs. He usually accompany me to school purposes. Lastly, he provides me financially thinking that he have his own family who needs much of his support. He is my father and I love him more than I love my real father. He is Ronald Bobadilla, not real but true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-4487431135906754107?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/4487431135906754107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=4487431135906754107' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4487431135906754107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/4487431135906754107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/07/acts-like-father.html' title='Acts Like A Father'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-5880491732194576495</id><published>2008-07-19T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:12:54.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning in a Hard Way</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SIH0XICXRkI/AAAAAAAAADY/jlR_3r3jH3g/s1600-h/rose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SIH0XICXRkI/AAAAAAAAADY/jlR_3r3jH3g/s320/rose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224725720858052162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I'm learning a lot of things in living as a high school student. Not only the lessons while we are studying but also the lessons in life. Studying is a the most boring type of lesson that I am learning. But I admit, those discoveries made by scientists are also interesting, but at the same time they are boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Another type of lesson that is hard to forget and at the same time not boring is our lessons in life. This is the most common of all lessons. Everyone can learn this. But, learning in a hard way is different from learning in an easy way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Many of us are learning in the hard way. Like me, this is the only time I am learning that I must have study hard. And now, it was a hard thing for me to face the consequence.&lt;br /&gt;Learning in a hard way. I promise not to go on with this if I can just learn in an easy way.&lt;br /&gt;Just like a rose, it seems so beautiful and attractive. But once you touch it, you can feel thorns that surrounds it. Rose is an example of learning. You'll just learn not to touch it once you feel the thorns that surrounds it.&lt;br /&gt;Life is not always beautiful, but it can be when you already learn.&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/7787370651881472306-5880491732194576495?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/5880491732194576495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=5880491732194576495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/5880491732194576495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/5880491732194576495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/07/learning-in-hard-way.html' title='Learning in a Hard Way'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SIH0XICXRkI/AAAAAAAAADY/jlR_3r3jH3g/s72-c/rose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-8359057792905793901</id><published>2008-07-17T18:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:13:11.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where I came from</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SIKu0Z1IISI/AAAAAAAAAEA/1GFCxCNNXZo/s1600-h/family+tree.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 416px; height: 329px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SIKu0Z1IISI/AAAAAAAAAEA/1GFCxCNNXZo/s400/family+tree.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224930733013344546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" align="center"&gt;HISTORY OF MY FAMILY&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" align="justify"&gt;It all started when Solodonia Gamban met Paceng Gamban. When they had their own family, Paceng was a cooking mother. It means that she was just living at home and a house wife. She was very kind and a loving person. While Solodonio, he was a shouting military. He was very strict with his children. One of those is Gliceria Gamban. She inherited the strictness of his father, Solodonio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Iton Javier, a very kind man came into her life, she was known as Gliceria Gamban Javier. Her strictness was felt by her daughter, Violeta Javier. He met Sesinando Bobadilla and become Violeta Javier Bobadilla.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" align="justify"&gt;Sesinando Bobadilla is the persevering child of Berong Bobadilla who is a carpenter and Adang Bobadilla who was a grocery store owner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" align="justify"&gt;Violeta gave birth to many playing babies. One of those playful babies is Pinky, their singing doll. She was the center of attention among Violeta's six children because she was the most active of all. For that, she was the princess of the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other side, Ariel  Malabanan was the walking calculator of their family. He was good in Mathematics. He is the son of Carlos Malabanan, a police sergeant and Nena Malabanan, a very religious wife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinky lose her crown being the princess when she, herself, had her own princess. This was when Ariel caught her heart. Pinky gave birth to Zaborah, a precious gift. And after a year, she was followed by Agustin, a crying baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm Zaborah and this is where I came from!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7787370651881472306-8359057792905793901?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/8359057792905793901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=8359057792905793901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8359057792905793901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8359057792905793901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/07/where-i-came-from.html' title='Where I came from'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SIKu0Z1IISI/AAAAAAAAAEA/1GFCxCNNXZo/s72-c/family+tree.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-6484753680667673813</id><published>2008-07-11T05:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:13:29.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If you just realized</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SHiLXTxlX0I/AAAAAAAAADI/jcfNskJe0OY/s1600-h/2405479820_02d251367a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SHiLXTxlX0I/AAAAAAAAADI/jcfNskJe0OY/s320/2405479820_02d251367a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222077000497585986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SHiLE_I81zI/AAAAAAAAADA/cMk83l7KExU/s1600-h/spaceball.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SHiLE_I81zI/AAAAAAAAADA/cMk83l7KExU/s320/spaceball.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222076685720803122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SHiKs-W-gtI/AAAAAAAAAC4/LPwrMyNng0Y/s1600-h/spaceball.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SHiKs-W-gtI/AAAAAAAAAC4/LPwrMyNng0Y/s320/spaceball.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222076273194336978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;" No it's not a love triangle..."&lt;br /&gt;What a week! This week was so disgusting!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;There were news that were so unacceptable! Those were so embarrassing for their part!&lt;br /&gt;How I wish that everyone had been true to themselves and to others.&lt;br /&gt;How I wish I'm not living in this kind of life...&lt;br /&gt;If only...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only time can be erased when it was written.&lt;br /&gt;If only something could be repeated and turned to be right.&lt;br /&gt;This couldn't happen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" No one ever saw me like you do"&lt;br /&gt;Friends are second to the most precious things that God gave us. They might be true and real. But, they might also be fake.&lt;br /&gt;I've seen so many kinds of friendships this week. What I can say is that, they weren't becoming real to one another. I think it's not friendship. It is impossible to be called friendship. At first you might think it's real. But  look closer, for you to know what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll wait, but I hope it would be soon"&lt;br /&gt;Love. This almost what everyone is prioritizing. Love for family, friends, special someone, etc.&lt;br /&gt;Love for the family must really be the most real among all of these. Love for friends is only the second, for me. And lastly, love for a"special someone" is on the bottom list. But why is that more the youth today prioritize these??? Well, I don't no.&lt;br /&gt;Some love is not really love. Maybe, it's just INFATUATION that everyone can't deny.&lt;br /&gt;But honestly, I'm waiting for this thing to come in my life. Not actually I want to be infatuated. I want to feel the happiness that they are feeling when they are "in love".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you look me in the eyes..."&lt;br /&gt;I feel so protected..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till here...&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/7787370651881472306-6484753680667673813?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/6484753680667673813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=6484753680667673813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6484753680667673813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/6484753680667673813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/07/test.html' title='If you just realized'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SHiLXTxlX0I/AAAAAAAAADI/jcfNskJe0OY/s72-c/2405479820_02d251367a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-2747736049124904218</id><published>2008-07-04T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:13:56.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Closer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Guess what...Our fourth week had already ended! This week had been better than better than better. Well, the best so far for short.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;This week, I'm with different peoples, not just with one nor two. I can say that I can balance being with my 3-Oxygen friends and with my friends in the 3-Nitrogen. The both sections are making me happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Every break time, I'm accompanied by different people, whoever wanna go with me. hahaha. That's my life for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Somebody told me "It seems like you're very kind. You don't get angry." I don't why she tell that. But maybe she just tells what she sees. I just told her that maybe "I'm not coming out of my shell yet" hahaha. She just don't know the real me yet. If she would be my  close friend, she'll tell that I'm so bad. hahaha. Well, let's see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I feel their care. It's so good to be their friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Speaking of friends, there's this friend who never leave me. hahhaha. She knows who she is. I just want to say that, every time I'm with her, even though I'm in bad mood, I feel good. Every time I'm with her, I can show the real me. I can laugh anytime i want to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Again, speaking of laughing, while I'm doing my assignment in advance, I laugh when I heard a classmate laugh. Then, another classmate laugh with me. As in, I laughed so hard that time.hahahaha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Well, that's for this week!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"&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/7787370651881472306-2747736049124904218?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/2747736049124904218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=2747736049124904218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2747736049124904218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/2747736049124904218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/07/getting-closer.html' title='Getting Closer'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-8298408074875099124</id><published>2008-07-01T03:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:14:54.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Purpose In Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: courier new; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SGoKHuI8lSI/AAAAAAAAACo/u0He4Kg4JPI/s1600-h/stars.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 226px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SGoKHuI8lSI/AAAAAAAAACo/u0He4Kg4JPI/s320/stars.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217994246023058722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Life is the most important gift of God to us,living things. And for that, we must have a purpose for living. I, as a student , a friend, a classmate , a relative and most especially a daughter, would want to be a star.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I want to exist as a star for them.  This is not the fact that I want to be popular or the cynosure,it's just the truth that I want to serve as light to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;It's not literally light of course.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; I don't want to see them sad because I want to be the person to glow them up,the person to lighten them up, their "star".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;For my family and for myself, I want to make them and myself glow and lighten up by achieving my goals. The goals that would make them proud, and me as their "star".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;In those goals that I would be achieving, I would exist not only to benefit myself but also to other people. I would apply what I learned and I would share the knowledge that I have so that other persons will be benefited. And with that, I could be their "star" in my own simple way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;MY PURPOSE IN LIFE IS TO BE THE "STAR" THAT WOULD SHINE THE BRIGHTEST.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/7787370651881472306-8298408074875099124?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/8298408074875099124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=8298408074875099124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8298408074875099124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/8298408074875099124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-purpose-in-life.html' title='My Purpose In Life'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SGoKHuI8lSI/AAAAAAAAACo/u0He4Kg4JPI/s72-c/stars.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-7433756206052393000</id><published>2008-06-27T04:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:15:18.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Better than better...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: webdings; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SGTZOU95XTI/AAAAAAAAABU/SfvXZNd6mzc/s1600-h/15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 191px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SGTZOU95XTI/AAAAAAAAABU/SfvXZNd6mzc/s320/15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216533108571594034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt;Like the previous entries from my blog, I'll not write an entry of a per-day-basis. I'll just show you the highlights of my third week as a Junior. Yeah right. It's already our third week. Time is running so fast once again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Physics.&lt;br /&gt;We did a lot of things in this subject. Ma'am Jackie is a really good teacher. We had many activities also. And from that, I am learning a lot. And because I have interest in this subject, It gives me high grades!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"  &gt;Araling&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"  &gt;Panlipunan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;A big shit in my high school life. It's not about the teacher, it's about the subject. And because I don't have interest in this subject, I don't learn anything. And usually, I can't answer her questions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Recess. Must I include this? Usually, I'm with Nobie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;English. I thought this would be an easy subject. But, no. Because are lesson is hard. And I think, it would be harder.I just need to study hard to keep my grades high when it comes to English subject.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Chemistry. This had been a boring subject for the past three weeks. But still, I'm learning. At least, even if it is boring, I'm learning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Lunch. Lunch is new for me this week because I'm already eating outside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Filipino. Always, I didn't not like this subject. But, I didn't hate this as much as I hate Social Studies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Mathematics. I really love this subject from the start. I love computing numbers and this don't bore me. It makes me feel challenged every time I see numbers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Analytic Geometry. My favorite! Not because I like the lesson but because at this time, the 3-N And 3-O are combined. I have time to talk to Blessille.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Advance Statistics. Except for this, we also have had Sir &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"  &gt;Moji&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt; teach us Research. This was also a sleepy subject. But, usually, not so much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"  &gt;MAPEH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;. This subject is just taken three times a week. We usually have quiz every after the discussion. And, I am getting high scores in these quizzes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Those are the stories about the subjects that I am learning. More will be taught. And more about those would be a lot of stories.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Well, in the classroom, I'm learning to bond with others, not just with Paulo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"  &gt;hahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;. And this Friday, we did something that could not be told!=)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;This is my third week and I promise to "Say it again" in more posts to come!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/7787370651881472306-7433756206052393000?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/7433756206052393000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=7433756206052393000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7433756206052393000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/7433756206052393000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/06/better-than-better.html' title='Better than better...'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SGTZOU95XTI/AAAAAAAAABU/SfvXZNd6mzc/s72-c/15.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-3988182712966422619</id><published>2008-06-21T00:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:15:41.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends.Classmates.Second Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SFyxG1i7jRI/AAAAAAAAABM/5w56XDB7PdU/s1600-h/MerRy+ChristMas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214237199599111442" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; width: 263px; cursor: pointer; height: 196px;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SFyxG1i7jRI/AAAAAAAAABM/5w56XDB7PdU/s320/MerRy+ChristMas.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt;Yeah. Right. My second week as a third year student had passed. It had been fun. It was a little bit easier. It was because of my friends, my second year classmates and my 3rd year classmates, my friends. Yes, I have new friends. Thanks to them because they made me feel welcome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;I feel happier now. I think I can get used to it. It would be easier and more fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;My routine was still like that, eating with them. But I just noticed something, being in Oxygen is different from being in Nitrogen. It seemed like there's a different curriculum. hahaha.No, but there's no difference actually, only the treatment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Do I excel? Sometimes I think I do. But sometimes, I think i don't.Yeah I think I can get high grades in some subject. But, I think I can also get low grades in other subjects! huh! Confusing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;How's home? I was still like that. But now, I sleep early and eat early. But it was just simply a going-to-house-routine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Friends. I'm mentioning about the 2-Nitrogen Family. We're still like that. We're still the same. I'm happy when I'm with them. The only problem is, am I welcome to all of them? Hm. I don't think so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Classmates.Ya. My new friends. They were so good to me. I thank them a lot for treating me so good even though they just knew my personality by now. I feel better when I hang out and share stories with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;School. "Walang iwanan". That was our motto. Right. With my two friends. Stick Together. hahaha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Earthwatch. This was unexpected because I didn't like it. Why do they keep on choosing me as the Earthwatch. I don't deserve it. It seems like I don't fit in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;That was my second year as a Junior. Well, mysterious but exciting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&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/7787370651881472306-3988182712966422619?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/3988182712966422619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=3988182712966422619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/3988182712966422619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/3988182712966422619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/06/friendsclassmatessecond-week.html' title='Friends.Classmates.Second Week'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SFyxG1i7jRI/AAAAAAAAABM/5w56XDB7PdU/s72-c/MerRy+ChristMas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7787370651881472306.post-3070014089658532073</id><published>2008-06-13T05:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T03:18:13.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Consequences.Changes.Chances</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SFNwG2QvbYI/AAAAAAAAAAs/zkdBmvXMQXU/s1600-h/saya+naman+magin+2n...jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SFNwG2QvbYI/AAAAAAAAAAs/zkdBmvXMQXU/s320/saya+naman+magin+2n...jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211632456745053570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:webdings;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(51, 51, 51);font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;        It's not our periodical exam. It's not even our card day. And its also not the when I knew that I was under probation in Science II. It's the loneliest and hardest day since my school life started. "First day as a 3-Oxygen student", this was what I've been scared of.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;You might be wondering why.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;First days in schools are the most exciting of all for students like me. Yes it was, but not this school year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;        Imagine being a new comer in a room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt;Actually, I'm totally not a new comer, but it felt like.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt;The fact is, I'm from the 2-Nitrogen "the star section", but now I'm in the 3-Oxygen, a section which is still a stranger in my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt;I feel alone that my friends are too far, and, I am still adjusting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;And still, I'm with them. I'm going in their room, eating with them and chatting with them. But even if they made me feel at home, and that nothing changes, I feel being different. I feel so sad that we're not classmates anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt; feel so bad that I'm not with them in the classroom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 0);font-family:courier new;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;Yes, it was my fault. I did not study hard. I did not focus. But honestly, I admit, I never regretted a day in my second year life but the memories are still making me happy, yet sad. Sad, for I was not with them anymore, the group whom I used to laugh with. Maybe I just get the consequence for the happiness I felt. So now I believe, If there's light in darkness, there's also darkness in light. But I'll stick it to my mind that never regret something that once made me smile. And my second year life didn't only made me smile. It made me a happy, happiness that no one can ever replace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:courier new;font-size:100%;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;CONSEQUENCES. I know I must face those, to be a better person.CHANGES. Honestly, I am not yet ready for those. Yet, I must be. Things are starting to change. No more daily updates. No more unstoppable laughs. And no more dreams to share. For our schedules, it's starting to change. We're starting to be busy with our own duties as juniors. CHANCES. I'm just waiting for the time when we will be still together or when we will be separated. Yes, all of those are chances. Chances that we'll still be together as friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/7787370651881472306-3070014089658532073?l=zab12eunice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/feeds/3070014089658532073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7787370651881472306&amp;postID=3070014089658532073' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/3070014089658532073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7787370651881472306/posts/default/3070014089658532073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://zab12eunice.blogspot.com/2008/06/consequenceschangeschances.html' title='Consequences.Changes.Chances'/><author><name>_zab_</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11566229724689905687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SjJR5OzHmcI/AAAAAAAAANg/P6TUy3kuCDU/S220/1_674407244l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_ZFe4OpZzK3U/SFNwG2QvbYI/AAAAAAAAAAs/zkdBmvXMQXU/s72-c/saya+naman+magin+2n...jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
