<?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-8832352031784397656</id><updated>2012-01-27T00:18:42.901-05:00</updated><category term='flirt'/><category term='travel'/><category term='emotion'/><category term='opinion'/><category term='study'/><category term='random'/><category term='frustration'/><category term='music'/><category term='geek'/><category term='letters'/><category term='love'/><category term='health'/><category term='life'/><title type='text'>My life at 25 years old</title><subtitle type='html'>Geek AND girly</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>93</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-4627636916485607397</id><published>2012-01-27T00:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T00:18:42.915-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinion'/><title type='text'>My eyes are burning</title><content type='html'>Please, if you can't type without doing stupid mistakes or if you can't spell a word correctly, just...DON'T WRITE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it's not your first language, then okay, it can be understandable.&lt;br /&gt;But if it's your mother tongue, how can you make such stupid mistakes!?&lt;br /&gt;French is quite hard to learn, but geez...go get a dictionary or just ask someone to read your entry.&lt;br /&gt;Or just read again, &lt;i&gt;at least twice&lt;/i&gt;, what you type. My god, I'm so frustrated that I had to write it somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not perfect, I also make lots of mistakes...but THAT, no. You got no excuses.&lt;br /&gt;You have a blog, it's private, you write what you have in mind, okay it's alright...&lt;br /&gt;But if you make a mistake at each 2 words in your blogpost, then...don't f-ing publish it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doing mistakes on singular and plural, no punctuations, not using perfectly simple verbs as To be and To have...come on! I understand now why people think that young ones aren't professional. We lose total credibility because of people like that. I hate it even more when those same people, say to the world that THEY are PROFESSIONALS...&lt;i&gt;yeah right&lt;/i&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll be sending dictionaries to some people for next Christmas. I'm being too rude?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-4627636916485607397?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/4627636916485607397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-eyes-are-burning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4627636916485607397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4627636916485607397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-eyes-are-burning.html' title='My eyes are burning'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6614531464029501000</id><published>2012-01-25T16:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T16:25:36.749-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>New Topic!</title><content type='html'>I found a great new topic for my blog : my&amp;nbsp;neighbors (&lt;i&gt;yeah...men again&lt;/i&gt;) !&lt;br /&gt;I love talking about men, it's fun and now that I have a BF, I have less stuff to tell you...&lt;br /&gt;So let's talk about my neighbors! Why not?&lt;br /&gt;He/They might even find this blog someday, but I don't care, I'm not being rude anyway.&lt;br /&gt;What's funny about my neighbors, is that in some way I'm connected to them...&lt;br /&gt;Like friends, or friends of friends, or people I stalk on Twitter/Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember I said I heard my neighbor f*ck his girlfriend/girl he met? It's totally the F-word, it was way too noisy to be "making love to someone". Well, I forgot to tell you that he seems to love music, especially noisy ones, really high volume ones. See what I mean? He did it first on a Saturday at 10ham, let me say it wakes you up pretty fast. I could forgive him, it was 10, the music was good (&lt;i&gt;I give him credits for that&lt;/i&gt;) and we were saturday. But, what does he have in mind, putting his music on at like 7h am on a week day?! Like WTF?! And let me say, it wasn't even a quarter the volume it had on saturday. But still...man please, close your music on the morning! Some people work and wanna have a good morning start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, we don't know if it's the Pretty Neighbor, so...let's wait before judging. You know, looks helps a lot. If he's cute, he might be forgiven...if not, well, he won't be. Simple as that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, I'm way too superficial... ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-6614531464029501000?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6614531464029501000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-topic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6614531464029501000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6614531464029501000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-topic.html' title='New Topic!'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8644071298201082763</id><published>2012-01-24T02:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T02:36:10.089-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>What do we really want?</title><content type='html'>I've been trying to work for the past 4 hours (&lt;i&gt;presentation tomorrow&lt;/i&gt;) and I had this amazing idea (&lt;i&gt;not!&lt;/i&gt;) : to watch girly movies while working. Yeah, great idea...I just couldn't stop watching the movie and thinking about my own life. You know, those movies, they all have the same effects on us... We all wanna start a new life in Manhattan or LA. We want our charming prince, a big penthouse or a house on the beach. Life isn't only about money and love. Wait. Yes, life is about Love (&lt;i&gt;with a big L&lt;/i&gt;) and money isn't necessary...but hey who doesn't want to be rich?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I saw a movie where the guy was totally rich and fun and a perfect fit for the girl. Then I saw a different movie where the girl found a Perfect Man, but what she needed was the Normal Guy (&lt;i&gt;he was handsome too anyway!&lt;/i&gt;). Totally hit me. Are we always looking for THE perfect one? We have that great simple man in front of us and we don't even consider him. Why? Movies just make us dumb. Girls, we should appreciate the real men, the romantic, funny, smart guys...not just those rich, famous and totally superficial guys. Even though, it's kinda cool having a celebrity man in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever. I'm asking myself: what do I really want? What kind of guy? What kind of life? Where? A big city with lots of people or something more relaxing like a house on the beach/mountain. Am I happy with what I have? If not, why? If so, then why asking myself more questions. We gotta live the moment. Right now. And if we aren't happy, then why do we keep ourselves from moving on to something else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. It's late and I'm totally going to sleep on it. Sleep well ladies, and remember :&amp;nbsp;we can decide our own destiny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-8644071298201082763?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8644071298201082763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/what-do-we-really-want.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8644071298201082763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8644071298201082763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/what-do-we-really-want.html' title='What do we really want?'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6972108409013916023</id><published>2012-01-23T00:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T00:42:56.851-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Music to my ears</title><content type='html'>Boyfriend showed me a faaabulous website you should all be on!&lt;div&gt;It's called &lt;a href="http://designers.mx/" target="_blank"&gt;DESIGNERSMX&lt;/a&gt; (beautiful designed mixes) and it's a-w-e-s-o-m-e.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vR9SQuJB3IA/TxzzPmUN6mI/AAAAAAAAAHI/yLCuaTWj3Ik/s1600/designersmx.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vR9SQuJB3IA/TxzzPmUN6mI/AAAAAAAAAHI/yLCuaTWj3Ik/s320/designersmx.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Designers create remixes with music they like working on and they design a beautiful cover for the remix.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told ya, it's awesome.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;+ it's free !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've already started following different designers/mixers and god, the music is good!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I can find music to work on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Try it out!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/8832352031784397656-6972108409013916023?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6972108409013916023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/music-to-my-ears.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6972108409013916023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6972108409013916023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/music-to-my-ears.html' title='Music to my ears'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vR9SQuJB3IA/TxzzPmUN6mI/AAAAAAAAAHI/yLCuaTWj3Ik/s72-c/designersmx.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-9221110863540616511</id><published>2012-01-21T00:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T00:52:44.532-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><title type='text'>Notebooks &amp; Workout</title><content type='html'>I have an addiction.&lt;br /&gt;I'm addicted to...notebooks. There, I said it. Judge me now (&lt;i&gt;but just a little pleaaase&lt;/i&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know those fancy, designed journals and notebooks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want them all! And I buy them all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have like 38434894 notebooks, just waiting to be written on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I have SO many, that I just can't choose which one to use first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So...I don't use them (&lt;i&gt;please don't judge me!&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a dream where I become a famous writer, so I keep those notebooks, &lt;i&gt;just in case&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well today, mark the calendar, 'cause I started writing!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll try to update this blog too, geez I'm such a bad blogger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh and I'm reading a book &lt;a href="http://soulpancake.com/" target="_blank"&gt;soulpancake&lt;/a&gt;, love it! It's fun to read and makes us have a different perspective on our life. I've written some quotes I wanna share with you, in a future blogpost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, I'm also on &lt;a href="http://www.socialworkout.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Social Workout&lt;/a&gt;!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p_de45OlW2c/TxpQL4B7ToI/AAAAAAAAAGo/rTtTczsOjl8/s1600/socialworkout.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="107" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p_de45OlW2c/TxpQL4B7ToI/AAAAAAAAAGo/rTtTczsOjl8/s400/socialworkout.png" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, I'm too much &lt;u&gt;into life&lt;/u&gt; right now ;) You guys should try it, it's nice and well, I hope it works! I've set many goals, I'm not sure I will achieve them all, but at least I try!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are my goals :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Waking up early: Daily&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting Spa Treatments: 1 in 30 Days&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Calling my grandparents: 1 Call per Week&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Eating Healthy breakfasts: Daily (in my case, I should say "Eating breakfasts: Daily")&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Reading: 30 Minutes per Day&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Writing a Journal: Daily&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cardio: 2 Workouts per Week&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;Try it! And let me know what are your goals :)&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/8832352031784397656-9221110863540616511?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/9221110863540616511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/notebooks-workout.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/9221110863540616511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/9221110863540616511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/notebooks-workout.html' title='Notebooks &amp; Workout'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p_de45OlW2c/TxpQL4B7ToI/AAAAAAAAAGo/rTtTczsOjl8/s72-c/socialworkout.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-820881134606680355</id><published>2012-01-10T00:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T00:53:21.667-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>A place I call home</title><content type='html'>I love being able to blog sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;I never take the time to type all my thoughts and I think I should do it more often.&lt;br /&gt;Writing is the best way for me to relax.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm happy I have this blog, this little place I call home.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I got these crazy ideas about creating 238473847 other blogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(But hey! Why don't I just use the same old blog for everything!? Isn't this MY little place?!)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think I will start posting in french, &lt;i&gt;sometimes&lt;/i&gt;, when I feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;Someone told me : if it makes you happy, just do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-820881134606680355?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/820881134606680355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/place-i-call-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/820881134606680355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/820881134606680355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/place-i-call-home.html' title='A place I call home'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8714839222778790337</id><published>2012-01-06T14:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T00:53:28.963-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>My neighbors</title><content type='html'>I wonder how people can make love so loud and don't be shy.&lt;div&gt;Seriously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I admit I can be loud sometimes, but only when I know the walls can hide the sounds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could barely sleep last night.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just moved to a new place with a friend, 2nd night I was sleeping there and I heard what I think I will hear each week : my neighbors having sex.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My roommate told me that the guy downstairs was cute. Now I'm wondering how cute he is, 'cause his girlfriend (or girl he took home) sounded like having fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll try to spy on them, maybe he'll bring different kinds of girls, with different kinds of screams.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh god, I hope he won't be doing that all days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Am I the only one a little bit shy of making noise while having sex ? I mean, we live in apartments. A little bit of respect would be appreciated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I'm planning on some revenge. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/8832352031784397656-8714839222778790337?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8714839222778790337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-neighbors.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8714839222778790337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8714839222778790337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-neighbors.html' title='My neighbors'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-1578682568902526064</id><published>2011-11-11T07:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T00:53:37.372-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>On the road for my 25 years old</title><content type='html'>I guess celebrating my birthday on the road means that my life will be eventful? I wish!&lt;br /&gt;Or just that I'm becoming an adult with responsibilities and lot of work. And clients, oh geez clients that can make me go crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, on my birthday, I would spend all day doing nothing or little things that I like.&lt;br /&gt;Things like working in a &lt;i&gt;café&lt;/i&gt;, watching girly movies, eating comfort food or going to an elegant restaurant, drinking sparkling wine and being pampered. Isn't that a great way to celebrate a birthday?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I was outside the city, in some small town where most of the restaurants and places to visit were closed. I had a meeting early the next morning.&amp;nbsp;You gotta do what you gotta do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quite didn't see my family that special day, they even forgot to sing me Happy Birthday as they usually do at 0:00.&lt;br /&gt;Felt awkward and sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks god,&amp;nbsp;I have a wonderful boyfriend that brought me sparkling wine and took me out to dinner, that's what I call &lt;i&gt;Love&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-1578682568902526064?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/1578682568902526064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/11/on-road-for-my-25-years-old.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1578682568902526064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1578682568902526064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/11/on-road-for-my-25-years-old.html' title='On the road for my 25 years old'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-3013183783028080598</id><published>2011-11-09T21:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T00:53:41.460-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>3 hours left</title><content type='html'>Waiting for my 25.&lt;br /&gt;I got only 3 hours left.&lt;br /&gt;3 hours left being a young adult.&lt;br /&gt;Changing from 18-24 to 25-34.&lt;br /&gt;Can't even choose "24 years old and less" in a survey anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I can feel the quarter-life crisis.&lt;br /&gt;Let's face it, I'm not a kid anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I know I wasn't, but I felt that I could do crazy things without being judged.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have a job,&amp;nbsp;responsibilities, cellulitis and wrinkles.&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel old. I just can't accept getting older.&lt;br /&gt;Making a step forward towards death.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know exactly what to do before 0:00, but I'm going to try :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;not to panic&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;breathe&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;watch some fun tv show&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;try not to panic&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;breathe&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;read a chick lit about some girl having worse problems than me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;telling myself that I also have my own problems and that they are important to me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;panic a little bit, a little bit more...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;breathe&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;and maybe just try being okay.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I will be writing again pretty soon. November 10, I'm waiting for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-3013183783028080598?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/3013183783028080598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/11/3-hours-left.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/3013183783028080598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/3013183783028080598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/11/3-hours-left.html' title='3 hours left'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-315790768493758644</id><published>2011-11-06T13:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T00:53:46.032-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Preanniversary</title><content type='html'>On November 10, I will be 25 years old.&lt;br /&gt;I will then start this blog.&lt;br /&gt;My place to tell the world how it feels to be 25.&lt;br /&gt;Quarter-life crisis, tell me about it.&lt;br /&gt;I guess growing and getting older scares me.&lt;br /&gt;I hope I'm not alone. Still. I need a place to let my fears and feelings out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till then, waiting for November 10.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-315790768493758644?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/315790768493758644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/11/preanniversary.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/315790768493758644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/315790768493758644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/11/preanniversary.html' title='Preanniversary'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8577148926536713421</id><published>2011-03-19T02:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.115-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Without words...</title><content type='html'>You know that doing reviews of movies is nothing like my kind of things. But. There's always an exception, something that gives you so much feelings that it needs to get out by some way. You know that type of movies that totally stick to yourself 'cause you totally understand a part of the movie. You recognize yourself in the movie and then you seem to live all those feelings with the character. Well, that happens to me all the time. That kind of movies are called girl-movies or drama. Of course, not all men watch that kind of movies. I don't know if it's because they're are afraid to let their feelings out or it's because they really think it's boring. Men tend to like movies with lots of action and blood and all that stuff that never happen to 'normal' people. Us, women, we tend to like movies in which we recognize ourselves. Movies where we can learn something or laugh at ourselves for being so stubborn, stupid or childish. I don't know if movies with kidnapping and bombs and all that stuff really makes my man feel better. But girl-movies, really does make me feel better. Or just, more open to what may happen in our future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw 'Love and Others Drugs' tonight. Yeah, I cried. Many times. At some part of the movie, many times +++. Men would say&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;geez she's so emotive&lt;/i&gt;, I would say &lt;i&gt;Can you be emotive sometimes? &lt;/i&gt;Long story short, it's a romance movie that we all know the beginning and the end (&lt;i&gt;let's admit it girls&lt;/i&gt;) but what's the message in the movie? All those girl-movies have a message to transmit. It's like a must. In that movie, we discover (or rediscover) a disease. Parkinson. A neurodegenerative disease. And I had never realized how awful Parkinson could be. Seriously. And I felt bad. So bad. &amp;lt;sigh&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandmother has Parkinson. And I've particularly seen her worse these days...since grandpa died (&lt;i&gt;he died some years ago, don't worry, I'm okay now.&lt;/i&gt;) I cried many times during the movie 'cause I was hurt. &amp;nbsp;I was sad of now being able to understand how awful Parkinson could be. And I never really totally realized what my grandmother must have suffered and/or is suffering right now. It hurts to see someone you really love...be sick. And not being able to do anything to make that person feel better. So I will do the exact same thing that I did with grandpa. And remember this, 'cause this is the most important part : &lt;i&gt;I will be there for her&lt;/i&gt;. That's all we can do. Be there. Listen. Help in some way if we can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate Parkinson, I hate Cancer, I hate any disease that kill people we love. I'm also really afraid to be sick someday. I just hope that if it happens (&lt;i&gt;and I hope not...&lt;/i&gt;), that someone will be there for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M. S. kinda...without words now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-8577148926536713421?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8577148926536713421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/03/without-words.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8577148926536713421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8577148926536713421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/03/without-words.html' title='Without words...'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6267276153058273430</id><published>2011-03-17T03:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T00:54:05.856-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Looking for words</title><content type='html'>So I keep looking for new blogs to read, new girly geeks to find. Trying to feel like I'm 'IN' again. Time has changed. I remember when I was active on blogs and forums. I was such a geek. But I was popular. It is awful how I've always wanted to become popular. I've always dreamed of that famous career, lots of friends, drama but also success and money. Superficial things I know. Then total change, studied anthropology and understood life wasn't all about popularity. Still, I admit that I sometimes dream of that superficial - yet unbelievable - life. I know money doesn't make us happy, but sometimes I wish I could have money to make a better world around me. But would I ? I keep reading blogs about girls little lives and I remember how I used to write about my life and my problems, they seemed so huge at the time. If I were rich, would I donate millions to poor people ? Would I stop buying expensive stuff ? Seriously, money change people. Lots of money. If I ever get rich and change too much, please wake me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going back to words. If you have a blog, let me know ! I'm in a big need of words. It's like drugs. Okay I've never touched drugs and I have no idea what it feels like, but I know I'm obsessed with words. I can't live without reading. And I haven't read in so much time, I miss it. I need to rebuild my social reading life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've written so many words so far. Please give me some of yours ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M. S. in need of new reading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-6267276153058273430?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6267276153058273430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/03/looking-for-words.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6267276153058273430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6267276153058273430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/03/looking-for-words.html' title='Looking for words'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-870235454839489912</id><published>2011-03-15T02:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T00:54:15.505-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>'cause you can't take the girly out of the geeke</title><content type='html'>I love blogging and I love blogging in english. I know that I don't have much time left for blogging or reading girly books, but what I know...is that I totally miss it. I'm living in a mostly french-only environment, working and talking with friends only in french and not even working a lot with other people from around the world. So I tweet in english with my - what I call - international account and read tech news online. That's pretty much it for my english these days. I hella miss it. I missed you girly bloggers and writers. I try to keep updated these days, but it's like I totally lost track of what you're living. &amp;lt;heartbroken&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah...you probably thought this would happen, soon. I miss ShoesandBooks. A lot. I'm not as girly-going-out-kinda-girl as before. I'm pretty conventional and boring these days. &amp;lt;laugh&amp;gt; I've matured a lot, I think. Started working on my own things (&lt;i&gt;social media ftw!&lt;/i&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And also, for those who asked, I've always signed my posts : M. S. which is a fake name. I've stated it on my first-ever blogpost. I just wasn't sure that I was ready to expose myself totally online. I've had many-many stalkers and that kinda afraid me before. Now, living with my work on social media. Hum. Well, working in social media is approving of having a life completely open to others. Now, I'm okay with it. I might still sign M. S. 'cause I like the name and it probably be the name of my first character on my wannabe-future-cool-girly-first-book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I'd post a line or two to explain my somewhat-comeback, seems like I've posted too much again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love.&lt;br /&gt;M. S. (the true-false one)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-870235454839489912?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/870235454839489912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/03/cause-you-cant-take-girly-out-of-geeke.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/870235454839489912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/870235454839489912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2011/03/cause-you-cant-take-girly-out-of-geeke.html' title='&apos;cause you can&apos;t take the girly out of the geeke'/><author><name>Woman of Twenty-Five</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6052412224626604618</id><published>2010-07-19T23:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T12:36:54.580-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>An End, a Beginning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's weird how websites and virtual identities affect us. Well, maybe it doesn't affect you, but it affects me, I might be too geek.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've started shoesandbooks with an idea of a girly blog, talking about life, men and you now...girly stuff. I wanted to share my stories, I wanted to share what I knew about men in order to help others and I wanted to know your knowledge too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Of course, talking about men stops someday. Most of the time it stops when you meet THE one. And I know that I've met him. I have the most amazing boyfriend ever for over 6 months now. I never thought I could ever meet someone like him. The last letter, the last chapter of my book, I hope it will be D. I've never been so happy and I hope this is my happy ending.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Love exists. I can tell now. And it doesn't matter where and when you met him, what really matters is what you feel for him. Good luck to all of you that are still waiting, he will come !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-6052412224626604618?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6052412224626604618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/07/end-beginning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6052412224626604618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6052412224626604618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/07/end-beginning.html' title='An End, a Beginning'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-2256983612396300501</id><published>2010-05-25T23:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.055-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Playing with A.'s heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I can't believe that some people have that much free time that they try to mess up others relationships.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hopefully I'm not talking about my relationship with D. thanks God everyone seems to like him and I'm happy so everything's fine with that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm talking about my ex A., let me refresh your memory, it's that cute peruvian guy I dated like a year ago. We dated for like a month in Peru and 3 months being like 6000km away from each other. I know it may sound like a lot &lt;i&gt;(it sure is!) &lt;/i&gt;but for some people it actually works. I got some good friends that got married with their long distance man and they're still happy. It's not a friend that told his friend that told another friend that told a friend that told my brother that told me. It's really people I know. So, like a 10 years old girl, I believed it could work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lots of people were between us, they didn't want me to go out with a guy like him. Why? He's poor, doesn't have much education and he's an artist. Here it would be sexy, but in Peru...no. A woman like me needs a doctor, a lawyer or just someone REALLY ambitious (and if he's rich it's a +). Of course, I hate that kind of man &lt;i&gt;(okay I can deal with the rich part...). &lt;/i&gt;Anyway, we're not together anymore, he dumped me for some random girl &lt;i&gt;(he said he met her after but let's admit it girls...who really believes that?) &lt;/i&gt;I just realized he was way too far to have an healthy relationship and they were right, I need to feel proud of my man...not to buy everything for him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The thing that happened these days&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;(of course he's trying to get back to me and saying he misses me, typical latino, but I won't fall for him again)&lt;/i&gt; is that someone texted him saying something like: "I know you don't want me to send you messages but I'm sorry for our misunderstanding. Of course I'll be sending you a gift with my father." Why am I telling you that? Some days before, A. wanted to interchange gifts. He wanted to send me a gift and I send him one. Of course all he wanted was some special thing he needed and in exchange he would send me some random girly thing. I wasn't stupid, I said "no I can't". Then he received that SMS and it was definitely like I was sending him that text. He really thought it was me, he sent me an email telling me he was sorry, explained how to fix things so he could pick it up and told me "I miss you and love you". I was in shock, how could he still loves me?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The thing is, I told him that I never texted him. That it's was mistake, that it wasn't me. And now he discovered it's a phone number in Peru. Someone is trying to mess things up between us...again. We're not even together anymore, we're just friends! He felt so stupid believing it was me sending him that message, apologized for his love declaration but still...who would be so mean to try to break his heart again? A. might still love me, it's not good to play with other people's heart. So I'm trying to figure out who did that, and if someone tried to mess up things before too that I wasn't aware of?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I don't want to believe it's one of my friends over there. Even if they say they were trying to protect me. Enough with overprotecting and controlling my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-2256983612396300501?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/2256983612396300501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/05/playing-with-as-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2256983612396300501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2256983612396300501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/05/playing-with-as-heart.html' title='Playing with A.&apos;s heart'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-9166406375746608758</id><published>2010-04-20T00:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.121-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Fear of perfection</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What is worst about a relationship, is that even though you got the perfect one, you still are searching for the little mistake he will make (&lt;i&gt;eventually, he'll make one. They all make one.&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's kinda stupid, we can't accept that we are happy, &lt;i&gt;for real&lt;/i&gt;. That's what crappy old relationships do, they made us paranoid. We actually think THE perfect one doesn't exist, and when you have someone that could easily be that perfect person, we try to discover the deepest, hidden little piece of mystery that will totally kill our relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;That's what I call, the fear of perfection.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Too good to be true.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;He got something to hide.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;He must have a really big problem that he's not telling me.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;He must be gay.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;COME ON, let's accept that we might have found a good piece of men.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But no, instead we wanna find out too many details. We aren't suppose to ask too many questions about what arrived before us, or how was his ex or who he slept with. Seriously, do we REALLY wanna know? I just think 2 sec about it and I can't even kiss him for the next 2 minutes, I keep visualizing him with that other girl and DAMN. Disgusting. So, no, we DON'T want to know. But why, can't we just live in our own perfect relationship and enjoy it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Because girls, we need to change our man, we need to control the future of the relationship. Bad boys, we wanna change them. We're sure that he's gonna be different with us. When we have a calm, lovely, adorable, passionate man...someday we're bored and we need some wildness. Which is, to my point of view, more than stupid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We got bored of the good guys and we're getting hurt by the bad ones. When will we ever understand?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I guess never... What is fun is to turn your steady relationship with your passionate man into a wild game in bed ;) Try it girls, I guess you could be surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tell me, why do you think we are scared of perfect relationships?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-9166406375746608758?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/9166406375746608758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/04/fear-of-perfection.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/9166406375746608758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/9166406375746608758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/04/fear-of-perfection.html' title='Fear of perfection'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-9183583085372076920</id><published>2010-03-16T12:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T00:54:56.710-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Returning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It is amazing how we can forget how things were before leaving...I just arrived from my quick trip to Peru and I just see the world here in Toronto (waiting for my flight to Mtl) totally different. Even though it's as sunnier as in Lima, I feel not at my place. Each time I return home I feel that way...as if Lima was my place to be. Being far from my family doesn't help. I've been living in Quebec for 16 years now and even though I've lived longer here I still feel totally Peruvian. Miss it already...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hopefully there's one person I can't wait to see and hug again...my new love D. But if he weren't there I wouldn't understand why I'd go back to cold Quebec.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My 12 days in Lima, Peru were fantastic. The weather was hot, people so nice and of course the food delicious! Since I couldn't use my iPhone I have let you down a little...But I have taken pictures of every single meal I have eaten. Soon I will make a blogpost with pictures of Peruvian food, if you want I could even give you the recipe. I haven't taken that much pictures of the city, I live in a ghetto were cameras don't last long outside ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Still...I'm happy to go back to my own stuff. I just hope I won't have a too big post-travel depression.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Glad to be back with you guys! I'll try to make you feel my love of Peru :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. -- Directly blogging from my iPhone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-9183583085372076920?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/9183583085372076920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/03/returning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/9183583085372076920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/9183583085372076920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/03/returning.html' title='Returning'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-4518871620366020539</id><published>2010-02-15T23:15:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.080-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Virtual Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You know how girls get so easily excited. They jump, make weird moves with their arms and hands, and make some strange noises of excitement. That's totally me right now. I know you can easily picture this. (If not, you must watch "All about Steve" Sandra Bullock is funny in it, kinda too much of a stalker but still, funny...and Bradley Cooper is so freaking HOT.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Anyway, what was I saying? Right...Excitement. So what's so exciting? No, I haven't found a new Love online. I'm keeping mine and after that fabulous Valentine's weekend (yeah right, we did celebrate almost 3 days), I can't complain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You know how Facebook is the new way into gossips? Of course, with that new FB I ain't seeing all new relationship status update. So I just discovered that my good friend is in a relationship for TWO WEEKS now. (Okay, now it's time to picture Sandra Bullock.) I was so freaking excited that I was about to make the strange noises. Hopefully, I didn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My girl friend didn't really have a lot of relationships stories, even though she's pretty, smart and funny. And what's surprising is that she found her new boyfriend...ONLINE. Yes! Another virtual love (or should I say, love online)! I was so proud. I can remember that day when we created her profile on that dating website (she wasn't really used to it). And what she feared the most (online relationships) was now her reality. And she's soooooo in Love!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You may think: Love online isn't true. Love online doesn't last. Love online is dangerous. Love online is for net addicts. But let me tell you: what do you have to lose by just trying? Seriously, think about it. I'm not talking about creating a virtual relationship where you are "together" without even meeting each other. No. Instead, why don't use the Internet and any website to help you find new people. People you wouldn't meet on the street, or at your school/work. It's just a simple way of getting to meet new people, that might or might not be for you. Just give it a try. Like anywhere else, you can have good or bad experiences. Just be careful and be yourself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It has worked for me, my friend and many other friends too, why wouldn't it work for you? If it worked, let me know your story...I'll be even more excited !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-4518871620366020539?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/4518871620366020539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/02/virtual-love.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4518871620366020539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4518871620366020539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/02/virtual-love.html' title='Virtual Love'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5677928652335712411</id><published>2010-02-13T19:03:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.088-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Monthsary</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;(Please take note that this blogpost should have been posted on February 11th)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today, a girl told me that in the Philippines they say "monthsary" for the first month anniversary. So, guess what? Yes, it's been already a WHOLE month that I've found the greatest letter ever, D. And I haven't talked about him at all. Are you curious? Let me talk about how it started. &lt;b&gt;But first, let me warn you: if you don't want to read about love and little butterflies, then skip this blogpost 'cause it's gonna be pretty lovey-dovey.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Now, let's start from the beginning. How did I met him?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;How, when, where do you meet THE one?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I know it's somewhat ridiculous but I met him online...yes AGAIN. I can't help it I attract guys from the Internet, ain't a geeke for nothing! But what's funny is that I met him on, okay sit down for this: t-w-i-t-t-e-r. Yeah you got it well, twitter...you know that micro-blogging website?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;140 characters to fall in love.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(gotta remember to print that on a t-shirt)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He followed me I have no idea why but I'm so glad he did. And he was a normal follower, didn't had the chance to talk to him really. One day, I was so bored at work that I asked on Twitter if someone could email me (I love emails, it's so "You Got Mail" my fetish movie) and he did, an enormous email from a total stranger. I loved it! No mistakes, well written, funny, polite and mysterious. Okay that was more than 140 characters but still. It was kind of him but finally I was so busy at work that I couldn't answer him. + I thought he was way older than me, so I kinda let it go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Later, he replied to something I said on twitter. I was like...hummm that nickname...remembers me of...and yes they were the same guy. And OMFG he was damn cute! We flirted on twitter but we were only virtual friends. He left for two weeks where I could barely reach him online...and I missed him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Missing someone you never met is kinda weird but it also makes you realize that you might have something growing for that person. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Some days after he came back, after some tweets, direct messages, SMS and a phonecall, we finally met. Not a planned date, neither was I mentally, physically prepared to meet him. I was going to Starbucks with one of my girl friends and I told him he could just show up. Which he did. (omfg I'm writing these lines and he just surprisingly showed up...haha this is so weird! Ok end of parenthesis) I was so stressed trying to find out if that guy entering the coffee shop was him, that I got tired of looking and totally were surprised when he was finally next to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;At first look I wasn't so sure he was the one for me. Funny uh? After he took off his coat, I saw him differently. Okay I'll admit that he got strong arms and that kinda made me fall for him haha. But damn girls let's admit that a cute, funny, intelligent man with strong arms: ROAR!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We talked...trying to look at him and know if he was feeling the same way I was. My little heart was beating faster than usual, I was hypnotized. We left the Starbucks to go to my place, only the two of us. Nothing happened (I swear mom!). For real, we just talked...till 2h30 am. I couldn't stop listening to his stories, knowing him the more I could. He was exactly the guy I had always dreamed of. I just...couldn't believe it. When he finally left, we stayed at the door looking at each other...waiting for one of us to make a move. Neither of us did anything, we smiled and he left. No kiss, but we knew that something had begun that night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;True simple Love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And I know this story will last more than months, years...and I hope it will be forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5677928652335712411?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5677928652335712411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/02/monthsary.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5677928652335712411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5677928652335712411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/02/monthsary.html' title='Monthsary'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-7279340872040607477</id><published>2010-01-27T23:46:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.104-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Crappy Days</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You know those days when you would prefer being someone else or just fly away. You don't exactly know why but you feel you aren't at the good place. I hate crappy days, totally hate them. Most of the time, it usually happens in the middle of the week, exceptionally it could be some other weird day, like mondays.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;On those days, we (I) feel less pretty, less interesting and of course, totally lonely. Must of the time crappy days coordinates with the only day that all your friends disappear, your boyfriend got too many things to do and of course you didn't have any plan B. So, you're alone in your room, looking at facebook, twitter and what so ever website to occupy yourself. After two hours of non-sense useless time online, you still got nothing to do. And damn, that time is so fucking long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There goes the loneliness. I hate being alone. Why? I start thinking too much and I end being sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Why is it that way? Why am I so bored? Where is my life going? What are my objectives? Am I happy? I'm bored. What's up with my friends, do they really appreciate me? I'm lonely. How's my family doing in Quebec? I miss my mom. How's my family doing in Peru? Damn I miss my friends and family in Peru. Why did I leave Peru again? Oh yeah better life conditions here. Damn, I miss Peru. Why am I here again? I have a good job. Do I like my job? Yes. So why am I so sad right now?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;That thinking makes me so crazy. I hate being sad. I'm no sad person. I'm supposed to be happy, cheerful, smily, positive. But god damn it, this day of the week I become some other person. I wish I could be happy all days. I am happy, I truly am. But, and there's goes the "but"...I feel like I haven't done anything to accomplish everything I want in my life. I know I'm still young and I have plenty of time, but it's killing me. I've got so much to give, I know I can accomplish many good things, but what?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So, let's make a quick resolution. 2010, I must find what I want to do with my life. 2011, I must take a first step in order to make it happen. Let me tell you, it kinda scares me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;positive attitude  1   -   Sad feelings  0&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-7279340872040607477?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/7279340872040607477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/01/crappy-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7279340872040607477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7279340872040607477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/01/crappy-days.html' title='Crappy Days'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-783584203713500177</id><published>2010-01-25T19:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.107-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Never say Never</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Verdana, tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;"I know you can find great people online, but I'm not sure that THE one is waiting in a chatroom or that his profile waits for my visit."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;Who said that? I did. Remember? last post... And for those who know what's happening in my life right now, you must laugh and you can. It's hard for me to write about it, most of my stories don't last and I hope this chapter of my life...will never end. So, let me tell you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;I arrived at a point where I was so mad at men, I was so tired of running behind them, pushing them to something that they don't even want. A true relationship. I felt for guys that were hot, nice, but that didn't consider me as THE one. Keep pushing for them to love me, which they didn't and wouldn't. Sometimes we want too much of a guy, and he can't give it all. I thought Key Guy could make me happy. Remember? He was a good friend and even though I still think he's awesome and nice and interesting. We weren't meant to be together. We were so different, but still...something made us stick together. I started to realize that I was waiting for something of him that I would never have. After tears coming from my eyes, I said to myself...what each girl must really think...the guy that loves you will never, NEVER, make you cry. 'Cause we're here, on this planet, to be happy and to make someone happy. I wasn't happy. I liked to have someone who cared about me, but did he love me? I don't think so. I think he was a really good friend, that somewhere inside him, he wanted to love me...but that's not it. I wasn't the one, and he wasn't my one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;I started taking my distances from all men I knew. I was tired of searching. And let's be honest, I wasn't really searching anymore. But still, I was giving too much attention to the wrong one. I can admit I was mad at men, I hated them, I wanted to be ALONE. Totally alone, with my friends and family, which are the most important people in my life. Even though sometimes they can betray you, they will always love you. Those are the people that even though you don't really have common interest with, they will be there for you. Of course, if you know how to maintain peace, communication and trust with them. So, I called, I texted and I wrote to my most precious friends which I had forgotten about those past weeks. I booked all my nights, week-ends. Each little minute of my time was dedicated to one of my friends. And damn I had fun! Being closer to my roommate and felt again part of our group. I had the most amazing week with my friends. I felt good again, I was happy...and without any man. For a woman like me, it was such a big deal. Sometimes I thought I couldn't be happy without a man...but it isn't true...'cause I was. And damn it feels so good to be independent and just happy about life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;I started to think about 2009 and what had changed in my life. Since september, I was living in a great apartment, in the center of the city and with a great friend of mine. I have a good job, right next to my new home with a great income and with people I love to work with. I have amazing friends and family that supports me. I'm about to finish university, finishing my last classes to obtain my degree. And... I don't have debts anymore. Then I realized, you can't have everything. For now, you've done a really good job, why should I ask for more? Of course, we wanna have it all, but be patient and your day will come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;And that day, has arrived. I am the most crazy in love woman in the world right now. And you might think, &lt;i&gt;there again...she's got a crush on someone. It probably wont last. &lt;/i&gt;But I can tell you, that this time...I'll do my best, I'll make everything possible, so that this crush, this love, this craziness in my life about someone...will last forever. No matter what, I can't let him go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;Who is he? Why am I so crazy for him? What does he have that is so special?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;D. that's my last (I hope) letter in my book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;Will you follow me through this new chapter of my life?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-783584203713500177?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/783584203713500177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/01/never-say-never.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/783584203713500177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/783584203713500177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2010/01/never-say-never.html' title='Never say Never'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5988700256924502434</id><published>2009-12-31T10:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.094-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Disappointing Men</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There's a little frustration living inside me, so I'm just gonna let it out. So what has happened these last weeks? I haven't been posting a lot. Remember that I was trying to meet guys over the internet? Well, it was a total FAIL. God damn it, how was I so stupid to believe it could actually work?&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So anyway, let's have a brief summary of each candidates.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;First, there's this guy, let's call him Electronic guy or FS guy (if you are a little smart, you'll figure it out). We were chatting online and he was like so excited about meeting me. I told him clearly: I'm looking for something serious, no sex only, I've been used way too much by lot's of guys. And he said he understood, he would never do that to me, if he ever kissed me it would be because it meant something. He said all those shit that we, girls, innocent young girls, want to hear.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What happened next? We finally met. On a sunday night, near to midnight. He was SO MUCH into me. Like...calm down boy. Telling me how much I was nice, beautiful, interesting, sexy, smart, etc. And I was like, hummm way too much into me, kinda freak you know. So we were really close to each other, he took my hand, he was so damn cute. In a cute way, not in a hot way. It was sweet. We kissed. He wanted much more, I didn't. So we just decided not to go further and he left. Telling me we would call each other again soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What had to happen, happened. He never fucking called me. &lt;i&gt;ASSHOLE&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For almost 2 weeks, I had NO news. The same guy that told me that kissing meant something to him, yeah right. I finally decided to text him, we always think "what if he's dead? or badly injured? lost his memory?" He never replied. I wasn't mad, neither sad. I hadn't slept with him, so I was okay. But deeply inside me, I was so hating men, all of them. He finally talked to me like weeks later. On msn chat, but I was leaving, We exchange some words, nothing more. We never talked again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The other guy, let's call him the barman. No I didn't hook up with my barman. Never got the chance to, damn. Nothing much to say about this guy. He was totally my type. For like 2-3 weeks, he kept proposing nights to see each other. I wasn't so sure that I wanted to meet him (even though he was cute), so I kept saying no. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Until I finally decided to meet him, it was kinda too late so we decided to reschedule. But he seemed different, not as interested to see me or something was disturbing his mind. So we talked...and he started talking about his ex. That he met in his bar. That she was so smart, different from other girls, and she was SO pretty. All our discussion was around his exgirlfriend. Imagine how I felt = uninterested. After talking about how hot/smart/nice/pretty she was/is, he says "I might have turned you off with all my talking"...&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Noooooo you're kidding? turned off?! me?! come on...&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dude, you still love that girl, why are you talking to me?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Most of the time it's girls talking about their ex, it's kinda usual. We're too emotive and implicated to totally forget our exs, even if we should. Then he tells me that a week before (he was still running after me at that time), his ex called to say she was coming to see him. So I did what any good person has to do, I let him go. I won't interfere between two people that might still love each other, right? What's funny is that, the next day, after meeting his ex...he comes to me. "She doesn't want something with me again, it was only friendly..." No-no-no, you ain't coming back to me after her letting you down. You made your decision, too bad for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;That two little stories made me wonder...What kind of guy do I attract? Is it just this kind of men that flirts online?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I know you can find great people online, but I'm not sure that THE one is waiting in a chatroom or that his profile waits for my visit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. still waiting for THE letter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5988700256924502434?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5988700256924502434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/12/disappointing-men.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5988700256924502434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5988700256924502434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/12/disappointing-men.html' title='Disappointing Men'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5935558931600327127</id><published>2009-12-25T17:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.091-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/SzU-zBTZrNI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8_ZuNRdb334/s1600-h/merry-christmas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/SzU-zBTZrNI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8_ZuNRdb334/s320/merry-christmas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5419306772854320338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I want to take 2 minutes of my busy-busy life to wish you all a &lt;i&gt;Merry Christmas&lt;/i&gt; and wonderful holidays. I hope you had a nice evening last night with great gifts and lots of love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;To those who are hungover today, watch out for New Year's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;To those who are having another dinner with family or friends tonight, take care on the roads, please don't take your car and have fun !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Please cherish the moments that you are with your family. We never say enough &lt;i&gt;I love you&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today is about hope, love and peace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So to all my Exs, today I won't hate you, I will forget that you once broke my heart and I will hope the best for you and of course, for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Love, M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5935558931600327127?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5935558931600327127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5935558931600327127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5935558931600327127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/SzU-zBTZrNI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8_ZuNRdb334/s72-c/merry-christmas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-2251083729664261636</id><published>2009-12-15T22:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.051-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Big Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;On my way to mom&amp;amp;dad, I have near to 1 hour of travelling with me, myself and I. Makes me think...yeah kinda silly to post while in the bus, but I'm not paying 100$/month for an iPhone that won't be fully used!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The more I work, the more I realize that I'm becoming a woman, a responsible and strong woman. I'm acquiring a lot of experience over the years. And I feel ready for something more. I need this little feeling of success. I'm 23, been working as a student for the government for 6 years and now working full time for a big company. I have big dreams, when will I start working on those projects? I must act quick. Years fly away so fast, someday we are twenty-something and the next thing we know we're married, with two kids and a job that pisses us off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You must be like: woah strong thoughts while in the bus! Of course iPhone means music, which means Latin music. And whatever is latin remembers me of travelling and freedom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Big dreams for a little girl. 2010 is about planification. And make everything possible to realize my dreams, dreams of travel and discoveries.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Talking of dreams...What are YOUR dreams ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. -- Directly blogging from my iPhone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&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/8832352031784397656-2251083729664261636?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/2251083729664261636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/12/big-dreams.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2251083729664261636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2251083729664261636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/12/big-dreams.html' title='Big Dreams'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-270218696118628179</id><published>2009-12-14T20:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.058-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Deliverance</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sycnr1gApDI/AAAAAAAAAF0/TryQlmy3CCU/s1600-h/fly+away+heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 280px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sycnr1gApDI/AAAAAAAAAF0/TryQlmy3CCU/s320/fly+away+heart.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415340710985507890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;As I'm typing (or should I say touching) these lines, some of you may hate me, yes I'm over with school...well for a month. God I couldn't wait for it to end. It was making me crazy, stressing me out for late homeworks and forgotten readings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today, as I was talking to my teacher in portuguese, 'cause if you guys didn't know I'm doing a major in modern languages (portuguese and italian), so I just realized...hey girl, you know 5 languages, why the hell aren't you travelling around the world?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yes, what's stopping me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Men. That's the answer to all unanswered questions. I'm waiting for the man of my life. I don't want him to run after me all around the world! It's already difficult to find each other when I stay in ONE city. Geez. Where are you dude? I'm not hiding!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Or should I be like..."catch me if you can"?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Now free of school, a full time worker and a sexy geeke, I'm gonna find you THE ONE, wherever you are...Lima, Paris, Rome or...Abitibi !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. -- blogging from her beloved iPhone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-270218696118628179?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/270218696118628179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/12/deliverance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/270218696118628179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/270218696118628179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/12/deliverance.html' title='Deliverance'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sycnr1gApDI/AAAAAAAAAF0/TryQlmy3CCU/s72-c/fly+away+heart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5510846991743978207</id><published>2009-12-10T01:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.085-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>The Comeback</title><content type='html'>I'm still alive ! You've seen the new look ?&lt;br /&gt;It's temporary but I kinda like it, pretty cool :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I HAVE TO update with all my new stories and stuff to add to old letters.&lt;br /&gt;FS guy, Bar guy, Coworker, the key guy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot to come ! stay tuned ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M. S.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5510846991743978207?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5510846991743978207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/12/comeback.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5510846991743978207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5510846991743978207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/12/comeback.html' title='The Comeback'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-3146504586753870390</id><published>2009-11-14T19:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.065-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday...Lonely Girl !</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;(I just realized I haven't posted in almost a month! Time to catch up!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm a big girl now, 23 years old since November 10th.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I happened to have a GREAT party for my birthday with a lot of my friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But why lonely? Of course, I had no date, no flowers. I had my friends' love but it's not the same. I wish someone would kiss me in front of everyone and wish me happy birthday with flowers and a HUGE birthday gift. I need romance. Kisses. Hugs. I need Love, but that...everybody knows it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Remember last time I was talking about M. coming over to see me...but that someone else was also on his way ? Did you have time to think about it ? That other person was... J. (you must read old posts to understand). I had NO IDEA that both were coming! I thought J. was joking so I was like...come on I can't say to M. to go back, he's already on his way (duh-hu...both were)! So...Rule #1, girls must not receive two men at the same time, at least let an hour between both haha EW! What had to happen, happened...BIG fight with J. Well, not a fight but he was REALLY hurt. Which is totally normal. But I mean, COME ON why didn't you say it first?! (OKAY it was a surprise, but DAMN...not my fault right?!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I felt weird, bad for J. but kinda angry that he was mad at me. So it made me think, what are you doing? Which guy you want? Does J. want me? Or M.? What's up with guys all around me...!? After that weekend with M., I knew I had to take my distances, from M., J. or any other guy. I wasn't ready. I didn't want to hurt J. neither be hurt by M. or any other guy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I can't date someone. Everything just ends bad. When I try to see someone, he seems to LOVE our date and then, no call, no SMS, no email. WTF am I such a bad catch?! I'm not pretty enough? I'm too serious in my relationships? I ask too much? Geez, I'm only looking for someone who will love me for who I am and that I will have fun with, and that wants someday to build a family with me. I don't want to be pregnant tomorrow, but soon, neither in a year...maybe 3. I'm waiting for perfect love, that must be the problem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So, for this new year of life, I was still single. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lonely.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And I still am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-3146504586753870390?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/3146504586753870390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/11/happy-birthdaylonely-girl.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/3146504586753870390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/3146504586753870390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/11/happy-birthdaylonely-girl.html' title='Happy Birthday...Lonely Girl !'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8570996834213206433</id><published>2009-10-17T17:17:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.112-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Mr. Big's comeback</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; "&gt;If you are following me on &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/shoesandbooks"&gt;twitter&lt;/a&gt;, you probably knew I saw M. twice the past 2 weeks. If you didn't, let me tell you what happened...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sto7bJ8YX_I/AAAAAAAAAFs/nvotba9gEJ0/s1600-h/ep94_carrie_big_onfloor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sto7bJ8YX_I/AAAAAAAAAFs/nvotba9gEJ0/s320/ep94_carrie_big_onfloor.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393688841441271794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;First, who's Mr. Big ? (Geez, come on you ain't reading my life?! neither SATC?!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was Carrie (or sometimes Charlotte) and he was MY Mr. Big.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He's 'the' M.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He's the man I have been with the longest in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He's the hottest guy I've had in my bed. Hum...well, let's say he's pretty hot, just in case some other letters are jealous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He's physically my ideal man. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Which is: 5'9", brown short hair, brown eyes that makes you go crazy, sweet smile, strong arms, three tattoos, small but not too small, a perfect shape...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Now, you must think...If he is THAT hot, why aren't you guys together?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Well we had problems, now it's fine and we are good friends, but back when we were together, it wasn't that cool. We have different personalities, he's way crazier than me (which I love) but sometimes he's too extreme. After all we had gone through, I could say we had a love&amp;amp;hate relationship which I/We/Him ended on December 2008. Since then, I've tried to forget him. It took me long, but I succeeded. It hurt me a lot, but I had to do it. Everyone kept telling me that he wasn't the one for me. I'm still wondering if I should have listened to them...Anyway, past is past. Now he has a new GF. Yeah crappy story...but the thing is, they kinda aren't together anymore but still living in the same house (I know you just told yourself "Yeah right, that's what he tells you", but I believe him...I wanna believe him). Which is weird and makes me feel uncomfortable with that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Then, two weeks ago, he called me and told me that he was coming to Qc, and that he wanted to see me, from thursday to saturday. I was like Woah. We had seen each other a little since then, but like twice in one and a half year (?!!!). It was weird. I wanted to see him but I knew it wasn't a good idea. When is seeing your ex a good idea?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Never.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But I just can't say No to him. So I saw him and he was as cute as cool as crazy as hot as I remembered. CRAP! Why...why...WHY did I saw him?! Now I just can't be with any guy, I must find better, and that's hard, pretty hard. We had a w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l time together, we laughed, we saw movies and videos, we talked. It was perfect. The thing is, he made me sad again...he left for another city sooner than we had planned and I was expecting to see him all weekend, which we didn't. He left friday while I was at work... Jerk? No. He had to go... But it messed all my weekend, I was the stupid one thinking way too much about him. I felt stupid and hurt and then being sad for someone who shouldn't make me sad anymore. I got over it back then, I can still now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A week later, this past thursday, (after apologizing all week) M. tells me he's coming again to Qc. And of course, he still wanted to see me. Let's be honest, I wanted too. But what I didn't know...is that someone else was also coming over to see me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But who?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You'll have to wait for more updates ;)&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/8832352031784397656-8570996834213206433?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8570996834213206433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/10/mr-bigs-comeback.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8570996834213206433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8570996834213206433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/10/mr-bigs-comeback.html' title='Mr. Big&apos;s comeback'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sto7bJ8YX_I/AAAAAAAAAFs/nvotba9gEJ0/s72-c/ep94_carrie_big_onfloor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-4464819763563695095</id><published>2009-10-02T17:11:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.077-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>The Surprising H.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I never thought I would have a H. Most of the time, my letters are always M. A. J. J. M. A. J.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Looks like only some names attract me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Then someone on twitter talked about a H. I was like...wtf ? H. ? I checked my list (of course there isn't any list, I think...maybe I should do one...anyway), no...no H. She just said a random letter. But what is funny, is that days later, I actually met a H. Yes, a H. Coincidence? Maybe...Destiny? I hope not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So I met this guy online, kinda cute, interesting, we even did webcam convo. Kinda cool, funny. So I give it a shot. Why not ? Maybe H.'s are my true love. We set a date. A simple dinner. But, that guy was doing 2h of driving to see me, on a WEEK day. And like we planned it 2 days before. It was really sudden. Maybe TOO fast. He was the one driving so, why not? I said yes. I waited for him...I was stressed...wasn't sure if I was reaaaaally interested.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;20h. He was ringing at my door. I opened the door. And there he was : H.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But I had no butterflies, no desire to flirt. He was just not my type. And I knew it, from the very beginning. Too skinny for me. I mean, some guys are small but STILL they attract me. But him, no. We just didn't fit you know. I was then really uncomfortable. What should I do? Well, at least, I tried to have fun. We went for dinner at the restaurant near my home. He's like the shy guy, I should rename him. And it was kinda boring...I was the only one talking. And he kept smiling and listening. I tried to make him talk, it worked for 5 secs, then nothing. DAMN! It looked like houuuuurs. But we had a nice dinner anyways. Then I would have let him leave, but I couldn't...He had done 2 hours of driving to see me. Geez. I brought him back home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- Want something to drink ? A beer ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- Humm...juice?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- Water ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- Something to eat ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- Hum...wanna talk about something ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- What do you wanna talk about ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- ...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;[...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I didn't even know what to say! It was ridiculous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So we watched a movie, then he wouldn't have to talk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was late...I couldn't send him back home so late and he worked the day later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So I told him to sleep at home. Which he did...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But NO, we didn't. If you know what I mean.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I just couldn't. It was like a friend. I couldn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Some hours later, he went back home. I was relieved. We had a little chat later, and I kinda told him that I didn't know if there was gonna be anything more between us. I thought it was clear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What I didn't know...is that he actually kinda REALLY liked me. Uh Hu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;4 days later. Back home from a trip to Montreal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I arrived at my appartment. And there, I saw it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;6 roses. Beaaaaaauuuuuuuuutiful roses. (You can see them &lt;a href="http://twitpic.com/jerf3"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My first reaction was : OMFG MY ROOMMATE RECEIVED FLOWERS !!!!!!!! WOW!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Then, I read the note. And then, my reaction was: FUCK it's for me !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And I started to laugh, a big laugh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No indication of who was the sender. Then I thought...No. No fucking way. He didn't. And yes, he did. H. sent me 6 beautiful amazing roses. Hoping I would be thinking of him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I felt SO bad. I wasn't thinking about him, at all. I didn't even think it would be for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Poor guy. Of course, I thanked him. But right now, I'm trying to figure out how to tell him. That I'm just...not that into you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Help ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-4464819763563695095?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/4464819763563695095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/10/surprising-h.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4464819763563695095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4464819763563695095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/10/surprising-h.html' title='The Surprising H.'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8331049764407315704</id><published>2009-09-17T17:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.109-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flirt'/><title type='text'>Dating Website</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When there's just nothing to say, don't say anything. I'm in that moment in my life where nothing happens. I mean, nothing about Love/flirt/anything related to guys. I'm on a standby. Of course there's some cute guys, but I can't find THE one. I was so busy with the moving, the new job and all that stuff that I haven't had time to date any new guy. Which is...Boring. I'm supposed to have a crazy life, where is she?! Where's the old M.S.? I don't know. She's dead somewhere. I used to flirt a lot and to date lots of guys, back in tha days. I'm old. Ha ha. OKAY not THAT old, but older.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So...I've registered to &lt;a href="www.reseaucontact.com"&gt;Reseaucontact.com&lt;/a&gt; (a dating website), yeah I was desperate, on a hopeless day...giving it a try. I was once on that website months/years ago, and I had messages from older men...like WTF my dad is your age! I just can't, sorry for those who like older men. How could I date a man that is as older as my own dad. YUK! Not for me. But those guys are like attracted to me, DAMN! Go away please. Anyway, I thought...well maybe things changed. WRONG way of thinking. It's even worse. Men even older than my own dad talk to me. Ewwwwww. Sugar daddys aren't my kind of thing (but if it's yours, msg-me, I have a TON of emails haha).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The thing is, I wanted to talk about RC. My page has been visited like 2314 times, in like 2 weeks. Over two thousand ! And I'm still single. Or I'm too difficult or RC is shit. Maybe both. And I have like weird messages and many instant msg, I MUST copy one of them, oh and btw it's in french...HAVE FUN!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); "&gt;&lt;table border="0" width="95%" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" align="center" style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; "&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="100" style="border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(202, 202, 202); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-size:180%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 17px; white-space: nowrap;"&gt;******-****&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" style="border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(202, 202, 202); "&gt;&lt;nobr&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="margin-bottom: 4px; "&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;ul class="actions" style="list-style-type: none; font-size: 8pt; "&gt;&lt;li class="reply" style="float: left; margin-left: 5px; background-color: rgb(255, 247, 216); padding-left: 5px; "&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:opencompose('http://www.reseaucontact.com/pager/?a=new&amp;msgid=71070724&amp;tuid=2638916');void('')" style="color: rgb(26, 110, 176); text-decoration: none; background-repeat: no-repeat; display: block; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 32px; height: 12px; background-color: rgb(255, 247, 216); width: 55px; background-image: url(http://static-rc.canoe.ca/img/pager/reply.gif); background-position: 0% 50%; "&gt;Répondre&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="delete" style="float: left; margin-left: 5px; background-color: rgb(255, 247, 216); padding-left: 5px; "&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:confirmdelete('?a=list&amp;delete=71070724&amp;fPage=2');void('')" style="color: rgb(26, 110, 176); text-decoration: none; background-repeat: no-repeat; display: block; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 20px; height: 12px; background-color: rgb(255, 247, 216); width: 40px; background-image: url(http://static-rc.canoe.ca/img/pager/delete.gif); background-position: 0% 50%; "&gt;Effacer&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="bloque" style="float: left; margin-left: 5px; background-color: rgb(255, 247, 216); padding-left: 5px; "&gt;&lt;a class="action" href="javascript:confirmblock('?a=list&amp;ban=2638916&amp;fPage=2');void('')" style="color: rgb(26, 110, 176); text-decoration: none; background-repeat: no-repeat; display: block; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 20px; height: 12px; background-color: rgb(255, 247, 216); width: 40px; background-image: url(http://static-rc.canoe.ca/img/pager/bloquer.gif); background-position: 0% 50%; "&gt;Bloquer&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/nobr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" align="center" style="font-size: 11px; padding-top: 4px; "&gt;10 sep., 08h15&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" valign="top" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" style="padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 5px; font-size: 8pt; "&gt;Écoute j'ai mon copain à coté de moi qui se meurt d'envie de communiquer avec toi...mais merde il me délègue le boulot parcqu'il est du typr 'hyper timide'' ridicule...je sais...mais il veut absolument que je te dise qu'il te trouve saprément jolie... minute il me crie......Quoi Alphonse !?! qu'est ce tu dis, allez articule et respire elle n'est pas là la dame elle est a des km pov nouille...tu veux que je lui dise quoi ?? que tu fais la meilleure sauce a spagath en ville ? mais elle s'en fout de ta sauce a spagath Alphie....voyons sois plus classe ! écoute donnes nous quelques secondes je sens qu'il va tomber dans las pommes le pov typ....tu pourras tjrs me dire si ca te branche quand même une sapré andouille de son genre.....à plus !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"&gt;The guys is like doing a monologue?! WTF!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"&gt;BUT, there are some cute interesting guys. I must say. I've talked to some (like 2?) and they are a good catch, so there's hope for RC! Talking about those guys...There's one that is particularly cute. But he lives like 2 hours from here. Why do I always get interested by guys that life far ? I like long distance relationships?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;So, I was wondering...If I got many weird messages, what's the creepiest message you ever received on a dating website?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Georgia, -webkit-fantasy;"&gt;M. S.&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/8832352031784397656-8331049764407315704?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8331049764407315704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/09/dating-website.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8331049764407315704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8331049764407315704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/09/dating-website.html' title='Dating Website'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5141974587797140199</id><published>2009-08-28T14:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.083-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Waiting</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Why guys always seem more interested than they really are?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I mean...you talk with someone, you have a nice first conversation and then...you wait like a stupid while that guy calls you back. As a woman, we get way too excited about someone, too fast, too easily, like a little girl. And we think "He's the one" or that maybe he could be 'someday' more than a friend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Most of the time, we get disappointed. How can we really think that this guy is THE one? We're kinda too romantic. And I know that it's not ALL women, but I'm like that...way too many times. We talk with that cute, interesting, in shape, active, intelligent guy and we are like O-M-G, I want THAT guy in MY life. First talk with him is awesome, lot of laughing, lot of talking. But then, there's this moment where we should let him live his life, but we want much much more. We want him to call us, to know we exist. So we call him/text him/write to him/rush into him. And that guy is like GEEZ she's a psycho. And some girls really are psychos. I mean, COME ON, get over it, stop stalking him. Guys should come to us, we shouldn't be running after them. That special guy that really cares about us will call us or text us or talk to us. Things should be natural.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So, yeah...some guys disappointed me. I've stalked them. Waited for them. Way way way too many times. So I'm kinda bored you know. Waiting for someone, for that special man. That never comes. I should concentrate on myself, I deserve someone who really cares about me. Don't I ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Girls, stop the running, or well...run for health, not for love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. tired of guys who never call&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5141974587797140199?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5141974587797140199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/waiting.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5141974587797140199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5141974587797140199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/waiting.html' title='The Waiting'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-4116490414706870978</id><published>2009-08-21T10:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T12:38:41.074-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>The Key Guy</title><content type='html'>[It's kinda hard for me to talk about him. Why? It feels akward. I know he'll probably read this blogpost and I don't wanna stop writing 'cause of that. So sorry J., you'll be known online!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've told my friends about him, and we've decided to call him "The Key Guy" or "KeyJ"...but why? I know you can't wait to know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J. is like a bestfriend, a brother and a lover. Which is pretty weird (and unhealthy?!). When something happens in my life, I just wanna call him or text him. He's a really good listener and god knows I like to talk, sometimes way too much. So, I talk to J. at least once a day, and if not I'm probably sick or about to die. We have hung out together, laughed, talked, cuddled. But he doesn't wanna get involved with me. Neither do I. Well, not right now. I think? I mean...I really like him but I'm not sure we are 100% ready to take a bigger step. Are we? What is weird is that sometimes we look like a "we". And things get confusing 'cause we care a lot about each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here comes the Key. I went to his place on a weekend, I was supposed to stay a night only 'cause I needed a place to stay. But he was leaving pretty early the next day...so...(and that's the funny part)...he made me a key. A K-E-Y, for HIS apartment... Yes you've read it well. At first, I was like : "o_O are you aware of what you're doing?!" Then, he explained that he did it in a friendly way, so I wouldn't have to leave early on the morning. I know you MUST be rolling your eyes, but I believe him. I don't think he would lie to me (are you?!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that leads me to my question of the day. What exactly does a key mean to you and when do you actually give a key to your partner? Is it something that is supposed to arrive after letting him leave his toothbrush?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M.S. and the key&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-4116490414706870978?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/4116490414706870978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/key-guy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4116490414706870978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4116490414706870978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/key-guy.html' title='The Key Guy'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-7044845230577176775</id><published>2009-08-11T09:47:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T09:47:27.913-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Friendship</title><content type='html'>It's amazing how we can make random friends easily. It's like we met 2 minutes ago and we're already planning a road trip together next year. Sometimes it may be short friendships, but it also can last. This past weekend I went to Montreal with Amigoexpress and like always, I met interesting people. Sometimes I get too hyper, sometimes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Hi ! Nice to meet you !&lt;br /&gt;- Hey! Me too. Where are you from?&lt;br /&gt;- I'm peruvian, from Lima.&lt;br /&gt;- Oh My God! I L-O-V-E Peru!&lt;br /&gt;- Nooo way! How come?!&lt;br /&gt;- I've been there last summer and I loved it!&lt;br /&gt;- Really?! Wow! Where have you been?&lt;br /&gt;- To *citywhereIhavefamilybutit'stoofarsoI'veneverbeenthere*&lt;br /&gt;- O-M-G!!! I have family there but it's too far so I've never been there! You're lucky! It's sooo pretty they say!&lt;br /&gt;- I knooow! I've done community help with children, etc.&lt;br /&gt;- O-M-G I've always wanted to do that!&lt;br /&gt;- I can put you in contact with some people if you want!&lt;br /&gt;- REALLY? You're like TOTALLY awesome!&lt;br /&gt;- We're soooo the same!&lt;br /&gt;- Yeah like TWINS!&lt;br /&gt;- Twinsisters! Damn I already like you!&lt;br /&gt;- We're so gonna be friends forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...OKAY, I might get overexcited. A little. Just a little. But I mean, that's what my conversation with random people looks like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can also find random friends over the Internet. Most of my very good friends were online friends at first. I found them chatting online, surfing on forums, trying to find my perfect man...instead I found incredible friends. Well, I might not be in a relationship but I have true friendship. THANKS GOD. What would I do without both?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I have sometimes met some freaks, but I can't say it was a majority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm even super friends with some people on Twitter, people I only know since like 2 months? Wow. Internet is really my bestfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about you? Do you believe in online friendship? Have you found random people that have become your bestfriends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M.S. and her 1001 friends&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-7044845230577176775?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/7044845230577176775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/random-friendship.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7044845230577176775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7044845230577176775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/random-friendship.html' title='Random Friendship'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-4181304191446703841</id><published>2009-08-05T09:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T09:54:08.985-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>High Life</title><content type='html'>I've been waiting to talk about my soon-to-be-new-life. Why? Just to be sure everything is alright before dreaming and getting excited. You know sometimes when you talk too early about something, then it crashes all. Yeah I'm that unlucky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, I'm pretty sure so I can bounce everywhere about it. I'm moving out! Leaving the family house, a big step for the little latina. Of course, my parents are hella scared and they think I'm going crazy. I'm soon 23 and I need to live my own life you know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm moving with a good friend of mine, let's call her Flirty. We're moving to a wonderful neighboorhood called Montcalm, best place to live to be near everything (so jetset). It's gonna be such a great adventure! I might even meet new people (new guys of course). It's gonna be parties to parties, fun to fun and lots of cleaning haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's also gonna be more responsabilities, more work and less shoes/bags. Lots of books, meaning studying most of the time...but you know me, I only need 3 hours of sleep haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to post some pictures of my new appartment pretty soon =) Now I'm trying to find all the stuff we need to start living our new life! We have already chosen the colors for our little home, it's gonna be freakin' nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't I look excited? ;) Do you have any tips to give me for my fresh new start?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M.S. and her new life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-4181304191446703841?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/4181304191446703841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/high-life.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4181304191446703841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4181304191446703841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/high-life.html' title='High Life'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6799186726046781940</id><published>2009-07-27T10:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T17:04:08.860-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flirt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>The Peruvian Guy</title><content type='html'>(this blogpost was supposed to appear on July 27th, I don't know why it didn't published, so here it is)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As you may, might, SHOULD know, tomorrow is July 28th: Peru's independence day. This year we won't celebrate at home like usual (we always do a BIG party with lots of food and alcohol), but we went to a party organized by the peruvian consulate in Quebec city. I had never been in a party for peruvians in Qc, neither did my mom. But this year, we wanted to meet new peruvians, so why not? My mom and I looked like models (I ain't kidding, we were really cute! especially my mom). We arrived late as always. Latinos are always late, it's how we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was then pretty surprised. There were young adults, kids and teenagers! OMG I said to myself, maybe I'll meet some cute guy. So I placed my hair, looked at my make-up and put my best smile, hunting for a man (not really what happened, I was holding my grandmother's hand and talking to the family). Luckily, a peruvian I knew was there, so we talked and I felt less alone, and he introduced me to other people. I was having fun ! So you're like "OH so that's THE peruvian guy!!?" But no, it's not about him I'm going to talk. Not that there's nothing to say, but let's talk about the mysterious one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dark hair, not too tall, nice body. I thought he was cute although some people said he wasn't. And then I realized. O-M-F-G. He was totally a copy of A. but older. It felt weird. Am I liking that mysterious peruvian guy only because he looked like A.? Was I completely over A.? Seriously, I think so. It was so complicated and life should be simple and fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the mysterious guy was looking at me, smiling at me, passing by me as much as he can. Eye flirting. He even said Hi. I was replying with a smile, said Hi back. But he never came to talk to me. I couldn't go first. If he's a real latino, he'll come. I know...stupid thinking. At the end of the night, he was still watching me, said hi again...and bye. Why the heck didn't he gave me his number or introduced him?! So I left, without knowing who the mysterious guy was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I would never saw that guy again, that I would have to wait until Peru's next year party. I was kinda disappointed. Someone flirting with me, nothing more. But no, the city is small indeed. A friend of mine knew him and his name. So...I'm such a good detective that I googled him and found his FB haha. Interesting...Then I could finally talk to him, and maybe see him again, I was excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But (there's always a "but") people told me he had a kid and 3-4 women. Damn. Typical. They're all the same. NEXT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M. S. and men with kids.&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/8832352031784397656-6799186726046781940?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6799186726046781940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/07/peruvian-guy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6799186726046781940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6799186726046781940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/07/peruvian-guy.html' title='The Peruvian Guy'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8787683214323640540</id><published>2009-07-22T09:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T09:22:58.520-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Friends with an Ex</title><content type='html'>We loved them, we hated them and we still talk about them. Pathetic or just totally normal? You've been with him/her for a long time, it's kinda normal to me that you still appreciate that person (depends also on what he/she did to you). Someone told me that we needed half the time we were with that person to get over it. So my 3 years relationship with M. would take me a year and a half. It's long! But I think I already exceeded that time, I'm safe haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I talking about Exs? Yeah, you were seeing it coming. M. called me. Well, first he texted me about some random stuff. (remember that he called me for some random stuff like a month ago?). We exchanged some SMS, I still care about him and things have changed since our breakup, so I was okay with it. Monday night, he called me. I was surprised. We talked for an hour, long time for an ex. I felt he needed to talk to someone and since I know him a lot, it was easier. I had fun talking to him and I should admit it, I kinda missed talking to him. Yesterday, he texted me again. I'd like to stay in touch with him and I'm not talking about feelings and love, but friendship. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my big question: Do you think it's possible to be friends with an Ex? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(btw he has a new girlfriend and lives with her)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M.S.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-8787683214323640540?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8787683214323640540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/07/friends-with-ex.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8787683214323640540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8787683214323640540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/07/friends-with-ex.html' title='Friends with an Ex'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-3986581080754497753</id><published>2009-07-18T18:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T00:28:47.402-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Eating to forget</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As you may know, I'm trying to eat healthier. It's kinda working, I don't eat junk food...at least not during lunch time. You may think I'm not fat or I don't need to lose weight, but I have gained 10 POUNDS since february. Ten f-ing pounds. That's the consequences of eating in restaurants all the time. But that always happen to me. I gain weight, I lose weight, I gain weight, I lose weight. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nothing to do with my nutrition, my weight changes with my humor. If I'm happy, I eat less. If I'm sad, I eat more. Love deceptions make me eat a lot more. When my relationship isn't going well, I eat more and I gain weight and I'm even more sad. Vicious circle. I hate it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Love update : none.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Weight update: fattie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I collect failures. First, my long relationship with M. that ended after a long time having problems. Then A. leaving me because of long distance relationship. SN Guy ignoring me because of misunderstandings. And finally M2 incompatibility with my social and cultural lifestyle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I don't know why us girls tend to eat when we're sad. It's like torturing ourselves. We know we'll get fattier. Food won't give us happiness. It won't, I'm telling you girls. But we can't help it. We order junk food or chinese food, eat ice cream or chocolate and complain about how guys are such jerks. We think that we will be able to forget everything that happened and made us cry. We eat to forget, forget what happened. But we won't forget. We must learn to live with it, or should I say: without him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So I'm stopping the eating. What I need is : healthy food, exercising and doing activities I like. First step to get happier without a man. I can do it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. determined to be "single AND fabulous"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-3986581080754497753?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/3986581080754497753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/07/eating-to-forget.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/3986581080754497753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/3986581080754497753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/07/eating-to-forget.html' title='Eating to forget'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5071081602686595191</id><published>2009-07-06T08:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T08:32:09.151-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Loneliness, my friend</title><content type='html'>When you're a social person it's hard to stay alone without looking sick. This weekend, i just wanted to be on my own. You know like staying in pyjamas and doing absolutely nothing, watching series or surfing the web. I was down i don't know why. Sometimes i randomly feel this way. Does it have something to do with me kinda missing M2? Or just the fact that i was THAT close to having a steady boyfriend and i blew it off. I proudly say that i'm "single and fabulous", but really...do i feel better? Keep me thinking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if i was doing everything to stay lonely? Loneliness are you my close friend? My everything? Please let me go, i really need to see other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also learned that my close friend is at the hospital, having serious problems. It's like a part of me knew it. My body was telling me that something was wrong...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad thoughts go away. 1. 2. 3. Gone. (please?)&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;M. S.&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/8832352031784397656-5071081602686595191?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5071081602686595191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/07/loneliness-my-friend.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5071081602686595191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5071081602686595191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/07/loneliness-my-friend.html' title='Loneliness, my friend'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-382992771157181038</id><published>2009-07-02T00:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:31:15.802-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>The beginning of an end</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Or should I say: the end of something that never began.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Remember M2? Yeah that guy I met after a year of online talking. Remember we met and had a great time together? Well. The title says it all. It's over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But, did it really started? I might sound bad, but it's right. It never really came to an important level. I mean we've been friends and had a great time talking but, we're like totally different. Like nothing in common. We've realized it only after meeting irl. Why? I mean, we've been talking online for like a year, he knows a lot of personal stuff about me, so do I about him. And we just now realized we're hella different. It shocks me. Why so late?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Let's say it's cultural differences. And social too. I hope I didn't break his heart or something like that. I think I've idolized our relationship. Thinking it was better than it actually was. After several let's say "dates", there wasn't that little something between us. It was more like friendship than anything else. Sad, but I can't do anything about it. When I don't feel that little something for someone at the beginning...then it probably won't ever show up. I need that feeling, that passion, that feeling that makes you wanna see that person again and again. Having this little thrill, this stomachache, those kinda small butterflies growing inside you. Meeting someone for a date must be exciting, if it's not...then he's not the one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm sorry M2, you're a nice smart guy...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. is just not that into you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-382992771157181038?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/382992771157181038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/07/beginning-of-end.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/382992771157181038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/382992771157181038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/07/beginning-of-end.html' title='The beginning of an end'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-7931233006514750633</id><published>2009-06-25T19:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:31:34.304-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Mes 13 petits bonheurs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;[J'ai été taggé par &lt;a href="http://ellemlamode.com/"&gt;ElleMlaMode&lt;/a&gt; donc voici ma liste! Et j'ai décidé de répondre en français!]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Premièrement, je tiens à préciser que j'oubli probablement des éléments et que j'ai une liste de 23897345 petits bonheurs que je dois condenser au nombre de 13. Imaginez-vous, 13?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Puisqu'il faut bien commencer:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;1. Geek depuis ma naissance (presque), j'ai toujours adoré les gadgets. Alors acquérir un tout nouveau gadget hyper cool et branché en plus d'avoir 1001 fonctions super non-utiles mais que je vais intensément utiliser est définitivement mon premier petit(gros) bonheur!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;2. Magasiner pour des livres et en trouver tout plein qui m'intéressent...et ensuite les lire jusqu'aux petites heures du matin, m'endormir avec le sourire aux lèvres ou pleurer parce que je suis way too emotive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;3. Aller chez mon esthéticienne(super fine que je connais depuis 6 ans et qui sait presque toute ma vie) pour une manucure au Izba Spa, me faire gâter avec des biscuits, des fruits, du café, thé ou boisson fruitée.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;4. Trouver un méga deal de la mort pour un billet d'avion vers le Pérou !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;5. Voir ma BFF à Montréal et passer un week-end tout à fait mémorable comme chacun des week-ends qu'on passe ensemble (promenade en ville et longues conversations interminables).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;6. Tomber amoureuse d'un sac à main au premier coup d'oeil, sauter pour l'agripper sur le haut de la tablette, passer à la caisse et réaliser le prix par la suite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;7. M'acheter une (autre) paire de souliers de marque, belle, confortable et abordable! Qui me va comme un gant et qu'on pourrait entendre un "TADAH!" lorsque je l'essaie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;8. Me faire complimenter sur mon look, mes cheveux, mes souliers, mes sacs à main ou mes bijoux. J'en suis fière !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;9. Me faire regarder par plusieurs jeunes hommes lorsque je suis dans l'autobus. Et espérer intérieurement qu'un d'entre eux me parlera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;10. Aller à mon bar lounge préféré et prendre un verre avec mes amies : Martini Litchi, vodka canneberges, mojito, pina colada, ALCOHOL please.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;11. Me faire inviter ou convaincre quelqu'un d'aller au Starbucks et me sentir trop dans mon élément lorsque j'y suis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;12. Manger dans un restaurant hyper cher mais oh-combien-excellent avec une personne que j'apprécie et pouvoir dire à tout le monde oh-combien j'ai adoré.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;13. Avoir des billets gratuits pour assister à une exposition, un festival, un spectacle, une avant-première (ou autre) et me sentir totally jetset.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;14. 15. 16. 17. etc. : jouer à guitar hero et m'imaginer leader d'un band de musique, voyager dans un nouveau pays, rencontrer de nouvelles personnes qui deviennent mes meilleurs amis, faire un gros souper de famille (5o pers. et plus), faire du voilier, aller au Tutto Gelato, recevoir un tas de nouveaux courriels, recevoir des SMS super cutes et attentionnés, et j'arrête car je pourrai en dire 98765432 autres petits(gros) bonheurs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Et vous? quels sont vos 13 petits bonheurs?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;(Je tague toutes celles qui me lisent et qui comprennent le français!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. aime les tests pour passer le temps.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Edit: juste pour en rendre d'autres jaloux...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;MonPrésentPetitBonheurJusqu'àCeQu'ilMeFlushPourUneJ.#2 : &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;demander conseil à(parler un peu trop, voir déranger) mon nutritionniste préféré et presque (Ahem) jamais me sentir jugée.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-7931233006514750633?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/7931233006514750633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/mes-13-petits-bonheurs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7931233006514750633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7931233006514750633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/mes-13-petits-bonheurs.html' title='Mes 13 petits bonheurs'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-1977762017192247192</id><published>2009-06-21T01:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:24:42.642-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Mr. Big's comeback</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yes, I'm going to talk about my Mr. Big, well the one I once thought he was. Thursday night (I think? or was it wednesday...anyway it's not important) I was talking online with M2 when my cellphone rang. I looked at it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"M. calling" ...my once Mr. Big.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;WTF!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;If you followed my stories, you would understand that I dated M. for like 2-3 years. I loved him a lot but it wasn't an healthy relationship. I thought he was my Mr. Big with all those break-ups we had. But, I had to stop that vicious circle. So I decided to end it definitely. It was hard for me, but now I can say I am happy I did it. We weren't made for each other. So we haven't talked in like months. I haven't seen him in over like 8 months. I don't know exactly, but long time. And he is freaking calling me?! W-t-f.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So he called me to ask me some random information. UH? Then he talked about his life, asked about mine. What's up? blablabla. He had moved in with his new gf, new house, dogs, good job. Thanks for trying to depress me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And he was talking and talking and talking. I didn't know how to end the conversation! geez! I wonder why he called. Ok well he told me he was going to his cousin's birthday near my house. I wonder if he kinda told me that so I would ask him to meet in quebec.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It is weird when some ex calls you back. Why they do that? What have they mind? Can't they just leave us alone? What's your theory?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And no, I haven't seen him and haven't called him back. And he called me on my cellphone, now I have an iPhone which number he doesn't know ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. and weirdos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-1977762017192247192?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/1977762017192247192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/mr-bigs-comeback.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1977762017192247192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1977762017192247192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/mr-bigs-comeback.html' title='Mr. Big&apos;s comeback'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-9076334760643135841</id><published>2009-06-17T18:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:32:01.238-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Recent frustration</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So after a typical day at work. Which means waking up late, running to catch the bus, analyzing clients at work, twittering, calling clients and eating junk food. I think I can now explain what happened recently that frustrated me so much (if you read my tweets and saw that my page is now private). And people concerned will probably read this, but I really don't care. Really don't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So. What happened? Well. Let's rewind. Remember SaturdayNight guy? That guy who didn't call me back or anything? I thought he was just not that into me. Well recently, he told me that he "heard" by "someone" that I was seeing a friend of mine and had a story with some guy in Peru AND he also found my twitter and that I was calling him SaturdayNight guy #3.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My reaction : WTF?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;First. That friend of mine, V. We used to see each other a lot, 'cause I really liked him. In a FRIENDLY way. And he was also my good friend's BF bestfriend. So like, we were always hanging out together the four of us. I am not and wasn't dating him. AT ALL. Second, someone in Peru?! Looks like someone isn't updated. Obviously, it's about A. and hum we don't even talk anymore. It's like sooooooo old story. Then, SNguy #3 ?! Where does that #3 come from?! I guess there was a misunderstanding. Totally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So I was frustrated. Not at SaturdayNight guy. I mean...okay he should have asked me about all of this. He didn't. I think he didn't care that much. But it's okay, I mean it's not as if we were friends for years. We just met. And seriously, I think destiny has something to do with this. I met M2 and I'm really happy (still gotta update you with last weekend with M2 ;) soon, I promise).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But, what makes me mad? That "someone" who knows V. and hum...it's like no one on twitter, told SNguy about me dating V. Facts: V. knows SNguy, V. introduced me to SNguy. Think about it 2 seconds. 1. 2. Have you figured out who it could be? Got it? I can't say I'm sure. Maybe it's someone else. Maybe. So someone, is backstabbing me? Damn!!! Also, SNguy totally misunderstood my tweets about him. And maybe other people telling him stuff. So I was SO pissed off, that I decided to put my twitter page private. Now I can delete people and accept who I want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So that's the whole story. Hope it's not a really good friend backstabbing me. You know why? Because in this city, all truth comes out someday. And that day, I'm gonna be really mad. So careful backstabber. I might me small, but I can be a real bitch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. bitchy, but happy ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-9076334760643135841?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/9076334760643135841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/recent-frustration.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/9076334760643135841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/9076334760643135841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/recent-frustration.html' title='Recent frustration'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-2137673780347418240</id><published>2009-06-13T10:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:24:42.642-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>My happy ending</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I have prayed for this beautiful day all week. And there it is. We're saturday, the sun is there, my happy mood too and M2 is coming to see me today. Yes, we're going to be together all day. Finally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm scared, I admit it. I don't know how it'll be. We have stayed 4 hours together and it was great. But a whole day? Maybe he wont be as I thought or I wont be as he thought. That guy makes me change. I've tried not to talk a lot about him on Twitter and/or any webpage I have. Okay I'm talking about him on my blog, but you can see that I don't give that much detail. I have waited for my happy ending for years. Will that be it? I can't say now and I don't think I'll be able to say it tonight either. It will take time and I'm ready to wait.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm starting to know better M2, I don't want him to be my bf right now. I want to take it easy. Just dating, normal dating. No rush. I'm young, I have time. If he's not THE ONE, then someone else will be. But he would make a total The One hottie. I may look as someone easily interested in men. But I have higher expectations from men I meet. And a guy could be quite perfect, he might not meet my needs. So when a guy have it all, I start to stress out and I tend to think negative. I can't help it. It is actually difficult to admit we're happy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sometimes we want drama, we create conflicts, we start fights. Why? Because too happy, too beautiful, too perfect isn't as fun as problems. It may sound weird, but lots of women (like me) we tend to make too big drama. We don't want perfect simple men. When everything is fine, we need to move things, we want action. It is though a bad thing. I know, I've created too many drama in the past. Why? It was too perfect. I was bored. Stupid me. Can't we just accept our happiness? Now I realize it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So there I'm saying it. I'm happy. Are you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-2137673780347418240?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/2137673780347418240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-happy-ending.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2137673780347418240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2137673780347418240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-happy-ending.html' title='My happy ending'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-4286524531226376600</id><published>2009-06-08T22:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:33:32.609-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Crazy day in Manhattan Montréal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So, sunday has been a crazy day for me. Remember I said "ENOUGH" of guys? No more dating (even though there wasn't any dating). Or meeting new guys? or whatsoever. Well saturday night, I decided that first hour the next morning I'll be heading to Montreal city. Yes, as random as it is. I was determined to go. I needed fresh air (haha, ok let's all remember quebec air is fresher but whatever). My dad has pissed me off the past days, and I had to just, leave. So I called my BFF: "hey! we're having breakfast tomorrow!" and also...I told M.#2 I was going to Mtl. I was tired of never seeing him. I mean, we met online a YEAR ago. Lot's of time for an online friendship without seeing each other. I had screwed my past chances with him, and now we were still friends. I was curious to see him and let's admit it, he's totally my type. But, he lives like 2h30 away. I had nothing to lose, everything to win. So we decided to meet for dinner. Yes, I've hidden that detail from everyone. I wanted my special moment with him. I'm not sharing haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And then I thought: girl you must go slow. These past months and weeks, you haven't dated anyone since A., then you thought of maybe having a 'we' with a guy who, I now realize, isn't near my needs. SaturdayNight guy was a nice man, but that kind that stays your friend and nothing more. I think he sees me like that, a friend. That's it, that's all. And you know what? I'm okay with it. I need better, someone perfect for me. So I thought, that damn timing. M.#2 and I never met in a year. Whatever with destiny and perfect timing, I'm going to see him tomorrow. No discussion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I left Quebec city at 7ham. So early that I had to sleep at my friend's place. I had lunch with my BFF, we walked a lot around the city. We had plenty of fun like always. We're so crazy together. Everything seems prettier and funnier with her. A whole day with her is my therapy. Puts me on the good track. She knew about M.#2 and she was excited for me. I was gonna FINALLY meet that famous M2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After having 4 hours of total fun with M2. Having dinner, going near the river, talking a lot, listening to music, just driving through the city. I had an awesome time with him. It was as if I knew him for years, forever. At dinner, I couldn't eat. I wasn't hungry anymore. And I was like...woah. This guy makes me feel that way. Been years since a guy did that to me. Losing my appetite because of a man (btw, that's a good sign).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So there I am. Happy. We're meeting again pretty soon. Good sign? I'm not pushing anything. I want to take it slowly, as it comes. We'll see how that goes. We are already good friends, so I'm just myself with him and it's weird (in a good way) how everything just seems...natural and simple.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. wishing she'll never wake up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-4286524531226376600?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/4286524531226376600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/crazy-day-in-manhattan-montreal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4286524531226376600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4286524531226376600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/crazy-day-in-manhattan-montreal.html' title='Crazy day in &lt;strike&gt;Manhattan&lt;/strike&gt; Montréal'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-1141556106368822498</id><published>2009-06-05T22:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:24:42.642-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>He's just not that into you</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It isn't safe enough to post by mail, especially with my work adress so I'm writing the old fashion way. Yep, pen and paper. Then I'll type it (which I'm doing right now). Silly? Well I've always loved writing. It really helps to think clearly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm feeling weird today(which was...what day? damn this typing thing gets confusing...I think it was thursday). Why? I'm not quite sure, but it must have something to do with that movie I saw yesterday "He's just not that into you". What if SaturdayNight guy really didn't care? Maybe I'm getting too attached to him, in a big need of affection. I thought we could be a 'we'. But really? Have I really thought about it? Him, Me...a WE? Like my friend told me:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Be careful not to fall in love with Love."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And most of the time that's what I do, I thought it was different with SN guy. I had the guts to go straight to him and show him my interest. I guess it didn't work. But anyway, why do I even care? He's just not that into me. He's not interested. Or well, not ENOUGH interested. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I think I've learned a lot from that movie. I knew most of those things, but a woman needs to hear it from others to believe it. I want to love and be loved. But do I really want any guy? No. I want the perfect one. Someone who will call me, text, email, come to visit me. I'm tired of searching. I really am. Nothing is working so far. Gotta stay strong but it's hard, really. I feel used, betrayed. It's silly I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;(now typing friday night...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm feeling better now. I'm still mad at men. Most of them, but not all of them. I know there's my perfect man somewhere out there and that SOMEDAY I'll meet him. I think that this story with SN guy just hurted my feelings and I felt stupid. But I should understand that:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;"If a guy doesn't call you, he doesn't wanna call you."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's simple and clear. Why can't they just tell us the truth? That we're cute and kind, but that it's not working. That's it. End of story. We're fixed. We know there's nothing more, nothing less. We can turn the page and go on with our lives. That pisses me off: not knowing what's happening. But well, that's life. Isn't it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For now, I think I have no interest in meeting new guys. Let them come to me. Right? If someone knows who's MY perfect man, could you tell him to hurry and find me as soon as possible?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Thank you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-1141556106368822498?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/1141556106368822498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/hes-just-not-that-into-you.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1141556106368822498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1141556106368822498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/hes-just-not-that-into-you.html' title='He&apos;s just not that into you'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-4621299635681221112</id><published>2009-06-01T21:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:24:42.643-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Nine months</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;W-T-F.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A.'s status is "9 months".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What is that suppose to mean ? I count. 9 months. No it wouldn't be our number of months together now. I count again. No it isn't the number of months he's with his girlfriend (I know 'cause he did put the date on msn). I count again and again. It's not the number of months before I come back to Peru. So. SO. OMFG. Is she pregnant?! I almost fell of my chair. What if she is? His gf would be pregnant? His brand new gf. That girl he's been dating for what...a month? two months? I can't remember. That guy with whom I (in the past) dreamed of having children with. I imagined them cute, with dark eyes, dark hair, and a perfect tan skin, small but pretty, intelligent as their mother (ahem) and artistic like their father. And now, that same guy would be having a random baby, with a random girl, in a random world. Well, now he's a random guy. I guess. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm not sad. I'm not even feeling something again for him. That's not it. I'm feeling...jealous I guess? Why is it that all my ex-boyfriends...their next gf is the luckiest in the world. They got engaged, or have children. I guess I'm the one preparing them, to happiness haha. I wish I could be as happy as they seem to be. I want to be loved, and to love someone. To build a family. You know I L-O-V-E babies? I'm such a baby addict. Anyway, like people keep telling me: I'll find the right guy for me soon. Someday. I hope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Till then, no news of SaturdayNight guy. He told me he would be busy this week, but a sms takes 1 min to type. People disappoint me easily, so I shouldn't be waiting for anything special from him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Let it go...let it go...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-4621299635681221112?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/4621299635681221112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/nine-months.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4621299635681221112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4621299635681221112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/06/nine-months.html' title='Nine months'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8345604711991583343</id><published>2009-05-31T20:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:24:42.643-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Dating IRL</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;(for those who don't know... IRL means &lt;i&gt;in real life&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 312px; height: 312px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/SiMo06fnnYI/AAAAAAAAAEc/TJrN9F9L-No/s320/dating1_Full.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342158472511724930" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've been seeing SaturdayNight guy. For non-twitterers people, I met him last week at a club. Well we just exchanged some words, we mostly talked on FB the next day. Then we saw each other twice in the same week...good thing? I know he likes me, like physical...but me for my personality, don't know yet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I haven't dated someone...for years. I mean real dating. I haven't even followed the kinda three days rule and stuff like that. I'm more like the 'Go for it rule'. I know what I want, and I do everything to have what I want. Most of the time, it works. Let me tell you that...I barely know what I want. It tooks me years, but know I'm starting to know my goals, my expectations, you know...my way to happiness...100 things to do to make me happy. I don't have a kind of guy. If you look at my love-curriculum, you would see that I have different tastes. But all that matters to me, is that little feeling inside. I'm a romantic, sometimes way too romantic. If I don't feel that little special something when I see or when I talk with someone, then it won't work. Even if I try hard, and harder. No. Nothing comes up. It's no love, it's affection or friendship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So anyway, talking about the dating. It makes me soooo stressed. It's like, what's gonna happen next? I have NO idea. I have no control on the situation. And...it's exciting, but it also scares me. Most of my last dates or should I say ex-boyfriends, were onlinedates. Yes, I have dated o-n-l-i-n-e. It has worked for me, been years with those guys. I'm still even friends with some of those guys. But dating online is easier, waaay easier. If he talks to you, he thinks you're cute. And if I reply, it means I think he's cute too. Then, exchanging messages...knowing each other. You easily discover someone's personality. And you can easily get attached to that person. Then after hours and hours AND hours of talking online, calling or even doing some webcam. We meet...IRL. Then, you know so much about the other, that if that little something is there. You both are a 'WE'. We talked online, we met, we liked each other, we had so much fun, we kissed, we love each other, we're happy, etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But dating IRL ? It shouldn't be so stressful. But it's harder to know someone completely. Or enough to date or...to be a 'we'. Things online are easier to say, to ask or to discuss. One-on-one, face-to-face...sometimes you think about kissing each other, than talking to each other. Gotta admit it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So for now, M. S. is trying to 'date' SaturdayNight guy. Will he want that? I hope so. I think I could be dateable. Gotta stay myself. Wait for that dinners and parties and coffee time, where and when I'll discover more about him. Of course, it's not online...but at least, it's real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Wish me luck?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-8345604711991583343?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8345604711991583343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/dating-irl.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8345604711991583343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8345604711991583343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/dating-irl.html' title='Dating IRL'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/SiMo06fnnYI/AAAAAAAAAEc/TJrN9F9L-No/s72-c/dating1_Full.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-1350279387439589500</id><published>2009-05-27T18:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:34:15.659-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Best Friends Forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yesterday, I saw the movie Brides War. I'm not going to talk about the movie. But instead, it made me wonder. What is a real friend? A best friend? Someone who will be there no matter what. And while watching the movie and the actresses. I visualized. There I could see us. My best friend and I. Two different women but who can't live without each other.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sh3MUC0TvxI/AAAAAAAAAEM/gW-Y3IEhzj0/s320/Friends4ever.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340649377856995090" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When the relationship is really strong, the other person makes you change and realize what you do wrong. It's sharing thoughts, dreams, hopes, life. It's knowing that someone will support you, no matter what silly thing you got into. It's knowing that someone will listen to you, hold you, hug you, dry your tears, take your hand and just be there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A best friend is there to stay. And my best friend, I hope she will. I've realized over the years, that she has changed me. A lot. And I have changed her. In a good way, I have taught her how to live crazier, told her to travel, to have more confidence, to do more activities. And she has taught me how to be more organized, to have a budget, to spend less, to realize that life isn't all about spending money and having fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I needed someone to make me go slower and to calm me down in my craziness. (Even though we still are pretty crazy together and we have lots of fun). And she needed someone to make her realize that she's young and she needs to go crazy sometimes, not always...but she deserves it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I know I want her to be my bridesmaid, she's the best in the world for me. Best friends are like sisters, brothers. They are a part of you. They're like your twin. It's that special someone you don't wanna share, but you do want all the world to know she's your BFF and that she's the awesomest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And I feel really lucky to have you L. And sometimes, we don't take the time to say &lt;i&gt;thank you&lt;/i&gt; to those people that you know you can't live without.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Thank you for beeing there for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And you should take AT LEAST a minute in your day, stop your work, stop any activity you're doing. Call, text, email or visit your BFF and tell them how important they are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-1350279387439589500?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/1350279387439589500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/best-friends-forever.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1350279387439589500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1350279387439589500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/best-friends-forever.html' title='Best Friends Forever'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sh3MUC0TvxI/AAAAAAAAAEM/gW-Y3IEhzj0/s72-c/Friends4ever.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-4762675789819410082</id><published>2009-05-24T22:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:34:46.559-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>No news = good news [© P-O]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;Pas de nouvelles, bonnes nouvelles !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 284px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/ShoIJA8MefI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ZQw7VMVtnmw/s320/sun-and-love.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339589259165465074" /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;These days have been crazy for me. Since A. told me he was dating someone else, I've been going out a lot. Well, not too much, I'm not into clubs anymore. I've been seeing my good friends and some new friends. I don't know why I was staying at home last month, doing nothing and kinda beeing sad about my 6600km relationship. I realized I didn't need a man if I had the best friends in the world. So I was catching up, talking to everyone, going out to dinner, lunch, taking one two three drinks, dancing all night. Meaning = spending lots of money ! Well, it was worth it. I couldn't feel any better =) well...If I had a boyfriend...maybe then...I couldn't be any better. Yes I'm still single. Haven't had a real relationship since...wow...so many months...a year ? I have no idea. Relationship with M. was pretty weird, and not healthy. Talking about M... I haven't talked to him in days (weeks?). He's moving with his new gf, kinda weird. 2 weeks after trying to get back to me AGAIN, he's going out with another girl and now 3 months later...moving with her. W-T-F ? His life, not mine...but still...gotta be careful man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Then A. He's still talking to me via msn. Telling me how HAPPY he is. How everything is going SO WELL. Hum. Thanks for sharing your happiness. After dumping me for a random girl. I really feel HAPPY for you...yeah right...A...Asshole. No seriously, I'm a little angry at him, but I still wish him the best. Just, don't talk to me ONLY to tell me that you're the happiest man in the world. It's like he's telling it to me so he's gonna believe it himself. Weirdo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Love updates. I'll probably meet M.#2 this weekend. Yes, after a year of talking. We're suppose to finally meet. Hope it's gonna be real. I'm trying not to think too much about it. Trying. Not really working. He's my type of guy and he's interesting, so...we'll see. I've also known some guys online, cute ones. Who? I'm not saying any names, you curious little ones! In fact, there's many men around me. It's weird. I'm not used to it. It's like many have realized "hey she's single now, gotta do something!".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm also really flirty these days and I'm trying this new &lt;i&gt;technique&lt;/i&gt;. My friend told me that maybe I wasn't enought flirty or opened to other guys. Meaning: a guy won't come to me if I don't do anything to make him feel like I want him to come to me. So I'm trying the eye-contact thing, smiling and even talking to him. Let's see how that works. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Wish me luck?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. waiting for Love !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-4762675789819410082?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/4762675789819410082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/no-news-good-news.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4762675789819410082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4762675789819410082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/no-news-good-news.html' title='No news = good news [© P-O]'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/ShoIJA8MefI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ZQw7VMVtnmw/s72-c/sun-and-love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6500129748992389893</id><published>2009-05-17T20:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:35:10.828-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Sleepless Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I don't know what time it is really. I feel it's like 5hpm or 5ham I can't tell. I'm all confused. Why ? Well let's go back 27 hours ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was supposed to meet my friend at her new appartment (downtown quebec city). So I got all prepared and decided to call her just before leaving. Then our other friend texted me so we could all go out at our fav club (near my friend's place). So I'm like : all right! we always go there, so...why not? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was finally ready (early) at 9hpm. I called my friend... No answer. I guess she's busy, maybe taking a shower? I waited. Called back. Still no answer. Maybe she's out and coming back soon? I waited. Called back. No answer, damn it! I waited 1h30. She's not home? She's sleeping? It was raining outside, I couldn't arrive at the bar alone and what about my friend? So I texted back my 2nd friend and told her that I might not go out finally. I was kinda disappointed. I really wanted to go out on a Saturday night. So I was complaining on twitter (as always). Msg-ed my new friend G., but he was busy. Why is it that when I really want to go out, suddenly everybody disappears!? I was about to give up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;BUT just before heading to my bed (haha yeah sleep to forget), G. replied! and finally he decided to go out with me at my fav club. I was so happy! So there I was, on my way to clubbing, drinking and being crazy. But I was a little down, 'cause I had waited so long for my friend to show up, I wasn't all hyper as I was as 9hpm. I met G. near the club and we arrived there at approx 00h40. Lot's of people in the place, nice music. I drank my famous Martini Litchi, loved it. My girl friend was drunk, she was funny but a bit too hyper. G. was kinda sick, thanks to Sex on the Beachs. We met another friend from twitter too, it was funny 'cause we have never seen him. Luckily he found us! I had a great night, dancing, drinking and talking. G. was rocking on the dancefloor hehe ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Soon 3ham, our new twitterfriend invited us over to his appartment, like 10 meters from the club. Well guess what? We spent THE NIGHT...talking! And I mean TALKING! Not like in SATC the movie when they say "coloring" for having sex. No, no. We really talked (and they continued drinking haha). Omfg from 3ham to 7ham. Our friend was a really good host, but then I saw he needed rest so we left. Heading to Cora Déjeuner (I KNOW, we were crazy). We should have gone to sleep, but instead, G. and I had breakfast and continued talking. We finally decided to go home and it was 9h30 I guess? Wow I've never been so zombie in the bus on my way back home. I arrived home, said hi to mom who was leaving for work and what did I do ? I twittered. Yes, I didn't even think about sleeping. I stayed up like 1h30 before accepting that I was tired. I slept till 17h. Damn I think I won't be able to sleep soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I had an amazing time with everyone. Especially G. he's amazing, I can tell him everything. We have the perfect gay-girl relationship haha. I hope we'll be good friends. Aren't they girl's bestfriends? =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-6500129748992389893?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6500129748992389893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/sleepless-night.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6500129748992389893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6500129748992389893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/sleepless-night.html' title='Sleepless Night'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6057961066966145316</id><published>2009-05-16T18:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:35:36.140-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>New Job, new lifestyle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;[While I write these lines, I feel kinda sad. Why? For the same reasons as always. Guys, men, stupid assholes. But now, let's talk about the good things in my life presently.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've started my new job! What? Where? I'm doing a student job at the federal government. Working monday to friday, 8h30-17h00. A nice work schedule and the salary is better but yet not as much as my past job for Service Canada. My coworkers are really nice and funny. I've already worked there too (my current job), so I know how things work. I have new assignments and it's more interesting now! I get to see lots of people and also call lots of people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BUT (yes there are): I have an hour lunch time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. It's waaay too much! After 15-20 min I'm done with my lunch, so it's tempting to have lunch at a restaurant (which I did thursday). So I'll spend more money in food, damn. That's how I spend most of my money =/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I have easy access to the mall. Which means : shopping... shoes... books. See where I'm going? Yes, I will spend all my money!!! Ok not everything, but it's also really tempting! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On my first day, we (the other student and I) had lunch at a restaurant (BAD #1) and then, our last 15 min...we visited JP (BAD #2). JP which is for those who don't know, how I call Jean Paul Fortin. Just to watch, not buy. But now I know all the great models of shoes I want to buy. And it's gonna tempt me all days till I actually buy a pair of shoes. I may be obsessed with shoes...wait, I'll show you which pair I want, maybe you'll understand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sg9BAgPG4DI/AAAAAAAAADs/YbrfoNiKx8s/s320/39924031-340x226-fr-30.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336555560366432306" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jeanpaulfortin.com/sgc/cache/bypass/_ns/YWVjb21tZXJjZS1wb3J0bGV0OjplY29tbWVyY2UtcG9ydGxldDo6LTM1ZWFkMmMyOjExOGYyYmRhY2ZkOi03ZmRjfGMwfGQwfGVfc3BhZ2U9MT0vUHJvZHVjdERldGFpbC5odG1sP2lkPT03MjUxJm1hdGlyeD09MjUyODY1/cache/bypass/appid/63086_30/home/pid/807"&gt;Berkley T-Strap&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;MICHAEL KORS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Price: 168.00$&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A pair of Michael Kors. WHO on Earth doesn't like &lt;a href="http://www.michaelkors.com/"&gt;Michael Kors&lt;/a&gt;?!?! I have expensive taste I know, but this would REALLY cheer me up (ahem).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A new job, more money but expensive temptations! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's my new life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;M. S.&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/8832352031784397656-6057961066966145316?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6057961066966145316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-job-new-lifestyle.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6057961066966145316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6057961066966145316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-job-new-lifestyle.html' title='New Job, new lifestyle'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sg9BAgPG4DI/AAAAAAAAADs/YbrfoNiKx8s/s72-c/39924031-340x226-fr-30.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6285031727839809395</id><published>2009-05-14T23:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T22:08:55.843-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinion'/><title type='text'>Je me questionne et je réponds</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pourquoi les gens n'apprécient pas les efforts des étudiants étrangers à l'université ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Suite à la remarque de Daniel Bigras sur son facebook : &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: 13px;"&gt;Pourquoi les étudiants immigrants à l'UNIVERSITÉ n'apprennent pas à améliorer leur foutu accent français? C'est pas OUNE, c'est UNE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;et voir son blogpost &lt;a href="http://lecelibataireglorieux.ca/?q=node/83"&gt;ici&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Premièrement, s'agit-il d'étudiants immigrants (c'est-à-dire comme moi, qui sont arrivés il y a quelques années et qui sont résidents permanents ou citoyens canadiens) ou des étudiants étrangers qui sont venus faire une session, deux ou plus dans un établissement universitaire de Montréal (Québec et autres) ? Car il y a une grande différence. Énorme même. Je dirai que l'étudiant étranger a une plus grande marge d'erreur si je peux me permettre, puisqu'il vient approfondir ses connaissances, en français et dans la matière qu'il vient étudier.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;J'ai été particulièrement touché par sa remarque car elle s'adressait aux étudiants immigrants (je m'identifie ici). Non je n'habite pas Montréal, mais cela ne m'empêche pas de connaître plusieurs universitaires de Mtl. Et bon nombre d'entre eux sont très bons en français. Pour moi sa remarque a été complètement stéréotypée et elle généralise beaucoup trop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Il est DIFFICILE d'apprendre à PRONONCER le français correctement. Croyez-moi, j'ai passé par là et bon nombre de mes amis immigrants. J'ai passé plusieurs années à aider des immigrants à améliorer leur prononciation (adultes, étudiants au collégial ET à l'université). C'est plus difficile qu'on peut se l'imaginer. Les asiatiques, wow j'ai pris un cours de mandarin à l'université et je me suis dit : wow! comment font-ils pour parler le français??? Je COMPRENDS pourquoi ils ont tellement de difficulté à prononcer certains mots ou faire des phrases simples qui semblent si faciles pour nous! J'ai appris le français, l'espagnol (car je ne savais pas très bien l'écrire), l'anglais, le portugais et l'italien (et non je ne dis pas du tout ça pour me vanter ou montrer que je suis mieux que quiconque) et moi-même j'ai eu beaucoup de difficultés à apprendre ces langues et avoir une bonne prononciation (chose que je n'ai pas encore).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mais il y a un moyen de dire les choses, avec un peu de tact. Son message a eu l'effet d'une bombe pour moi car ça manquait totalement de diplomatie. Affirmer que 80%  des étudiants immigrants sont POURRIS en français à l'université?! C'est trop. Trop pour moi. Trop pour que j'accepte ces propos et que je ne réplique pas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dire : c'est plate que beaucoup d'étudiants immigrants ne se forcent pas assez pour bien parler le français. LÀ tu parles, là ça ne généralise pas tout le monde dans le même panier et ça implique probablement des gens qu'il côtoie ou connaît. Mais dire que LA MAJORITÉ. Too much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Beaucoup d'immigrants se forcent à bien apprendre, prennent des tuteurs en français, font de la conversation en français. OUI, beaucoup ne le font pas aussi. Beaucoup se regroupent en groupe avec les personnes originaires du même pays qu'eux. Beaucoup parlent dans leur langue maternelle à l'école. Mais svp, ne mettons pas tout le monde dans le même paquet. Ça m'attriste qu'on généralise et qu'on oublie le travail de certains, plusieurs, beaucoup, énormément d'étudiants immigrants. Si on prend l'argent (à l'université Laval, un étudiant étranger paie 3 fois plus pour une session d'université), c'est qu'on est venu pour apprendre et s'améliorer. Peut-être que certaines personnes ne veulent tout simplement pas voir les efforts des autres et restent fixés sur les défauts d'autres personnes. C'est dommage, pourquoi voir le gris alors qu'on peut voir le rose? Suffit de motiver ces personnes moins persévérantes, comprendre pourquoi ils ont abandonné leur apprentissage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Je préfère féliciter les étudiants immigrants qui font des efforts et encourager ceux qui manquent de motivation ou de persévérance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S. qui avait besoin de s'expliquer (en français pour cette fois)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-6285031727839809395?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6285031727839809395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/je-me-questionne-et-je-reponds.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6285031727839809395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6285031727839809395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/je-me-questionne-et-je-reponds.html' title='Je me questionne et je réponds'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-4221963903688868735</id><published>2009-05-13T23:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:37:50.897-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flirt'/><title type='text'>The Note</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I MUST tell you the story about that note I received monday night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was having dinner at Le Cochon Dingue with my friend (I haven't seen her in months). So it was our casual dinner when we tell each other EVERYTHING that had happened in the last weeks/months. So we sat at a table and we took a look at the Menu. Then the waitress comes and tells me "I have a message for you" So I'm looking at her, waiting...with my eyes saying "what is it?". She looks down...I'm like (mentally) "wtf?" and I realized she was pointing at something, I move my Menu and there it was. THE NOTE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was intrigued and scared and amused. So I read the note, it was written :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:13px;"&gt;"Hola Bonita ¿Qué tal? Soy cocinero =) ¿Te acuerdas?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Meaning : Hi Pretty, how's it going? I'm a cook =) Remember me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And then after I read it, the waitress gave a look at my left. I turned my head and there he was, the cook. He waved at me. I waved back. Then I turned my head the other side and I told my friend "I have no fucking idea who it is!!!" I LMAO-ED so much, then I turned red. But like...COMPLETELY RED. I could feel my neck and my face was burning. I was like a cute tomato haha. We laughed and laughed and laughed. And I was still searching who that guy was.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Me: I don't think I've slept with him, I would have remembered...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My friend: Well...unless he was really bad at it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;(big laughs)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Me: (trying to breathe) No, no... Those guys... I REMEMBER!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;(laughs till I was about to die)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Later, the cook came to our table. And there he was, cute twenty-something man, nice and funny. I remembered. A friend back from college! Without my glasses I couldn't see his face, that's why I didn't recognize him! I felt stupid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Him: Hey! Do you remember me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Me: Yes! Yes! Of courseeeeeee! (ahem)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Him: Ohhh great...! I thought you didn't. I felt so stupid!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Me: (not as much as me right now) No don't worry! (little laugh) So you're a cook now? [...]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was funny, my friend thought I had secret admirers haha. I felt kinda special. Was he flirting? Maybe. Now I can tell everyone that special story and I have kept the note...for memories ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S.&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/8832352031784397656-4221963903688868735?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/4221963903688868735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/note.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4221963903688868735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4221963903688868735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/note.html' title='The Note'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5920533731798700722</id><published>2009-05-12T00:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T00:44:26.540-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Funny Tags</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sgj-KwPZ26I/AAAAAAAAADk/pB-lXhDr1_Q/s1600-h/34882390o_aix.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 250px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sgj-KwPZ26I/AAAAAAAAADk/pB-lXhDr1_Q/s320/34882390o_aix.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334793219322010530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just found a (low rise) thong and I decided to read the tag...which I rarely do, I mean...it's a thong! what could be written that is sooo important. So, I read :&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Wash inside out"    - Laver à l'envers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lmao-ed. Is it even possible? I mean it was a tiny little one. Hahaha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I'll start reading the tags...in search of funny lines.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have you found any weird/funny tags?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5920533731798700722?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5920533731798700722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/funny-tags.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5920533731798700722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5920533731798700722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/funny-tags.html' title='Funny Tags'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sgj-KwPZ26I/AAAAAAAAADk/pB-lXhDr1_Q/s72-c/34882390o_aix.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-2827611945607313260</id><published>2009-05-11T23:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:38:20.652-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>A Mother</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sgj1fdh7dZI/AAAAAAAAADc/lB7N998J-OI/s1600-h/mothers-day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sgj1fdh7dZI/AAAAAAAAADc/lB7N998J-OI/s320/mothers-day.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334783679472039314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sometimes holidays make us realize how important people can be. Yesterday was Mother's Day in Canada. It's the biggest holiday here, I mean in terms of restauration and brunches (family is in that domain). I love my mom, so I was thinking for days what gift to buy her or what gift to create. It's hard because I really wanted her to be happy. I wanted to thank her for being there for me, and let's admit it...a gift isn't enough to thank her. My mom has made so many sacrifices for us (my brother and I). She's so strong, but I know she's also really emotive like me. We look the same, some people even say she looks like my older sister (and she does!). Since we're young, she helps us in our art projects (I can barely draw a flower...) and any project in which she could help. But also, she was there : when I was sad, when I was happy, when I was stressed, when I was worried, when I was sick, when I felt lonely. I have cried so much on her shoulders. And she always supported me. If there was a mother's award, I would totally nominate her for Best Mom 2009. She's my friend, my sister, my mother, my mentor, my everything. And there isn't enough of one day to make her feel like a Queen. I love her, so does most of my friends too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And finally, I found the perfect gift. Tickets for Ovo, newest Cirque du Soleil's show. She was so excited! They're coming end of july to Quebec city and yes, we are going! August 12th, Ovo I'll be there!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 204px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sgj1ULEl3hI/AAAAAAAAADU/ghV61FPrxFw/s320/OVO_Cirque+du+Soleil.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334783485538590226" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What is OVO ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;OVO is a headlong rush into a colourful ecosystem teeming with life, where insects work, eat, crawl, flutter, play, fight and look for love in a non-stop riot of energy and movement. The insects' home is a world of biodiversity and beauty filled with noisy action and moments of quiet emotion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(255, 217, 188); font-family:Arial;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;When a mysterious egg appears in their midst, the insects are awestruck and intensely curious about this iconic object that represents the enigma and cycles of their lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;It’s love at first sight when a gawky, quirky insect arrives in this bustling community and a fabulous ladybug catches his eye – and the feeling is mutual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;OVO is overflowing with contrasts. The hidden, secret world at our feet is revealed as tender and torrid, noisy and quiet, peaceful and chaotic. And as the sun rises on a bright new day the vibrant cycle of insect life begins anew.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CC6600;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;[Cirque du Soleil url : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cirquedusoleil.com/en/shows/ovo/show/about.aspx"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;http://www.cirquedusoleil.com/en/shows/ovo/show/about.aspx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; ]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So what, are you waiting? Go buy your tickets NOW! And tell your mom you love her, it's the best daily gift you could gave her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I love you Mom &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;M. S.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-2827611945607313260?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/2827611945607313260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/mother.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2827611945607313260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2827611945607313260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/mother.html' title='A Mother'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sgj1fdh7dZI/AAAAAAAAADc/lB7N998J-OI/s72-c/mothers-day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6649469722948039274</id><published>2009-05-09T15:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:38:38.877-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Letters</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;You may have noticed that I call all guys by  their name's first letter. And sometimes I kinda make a comparison with characters of Sex and the city.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/SgXZ1X8WzsI/AAAAAAAAADE/qdp6Ax2dAhY/s320/bigcarrie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333908844673683138" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I thought M. was my &lt;a href="http://img.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2007/09_03/coupleDM2009_468x608.jpg"&gt;Mr. Big&lt;/a&gt; and A. was my &lt;a href="http://www.hbo.com/city/img/look/carrie/season04/ep63_carrie_aidan_whitedress.jpg"&gt;Aidan&lt;/a&gt;. I'm thinking that I might not be Carrie, but Charlotte? Will I meet my &lt;a href="http://s3.amazonaws.com/hgl/assets/2738/harry_blog.jpg"&gt;Harry&lt;/a&gt; ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Also, looks like my exs got their name starting with the same letters. It would look like :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. J. A. J. M. A.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So, who's next...a Marc? a Jimmy? or a Antony? (HAHAHA!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Well, looks like there's a M.#2 or should I say...M.#3 ?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There's nothing yet, I'm just kinda charmed by him. Or maybe just because he's a scorpio like me and I can understand him a lot because we are a lot alike. We talked on the phone for 114 mins, which is a lot! And his voice is sexy damn. I'm getting excited to meet him, we never know! but still, I think I'm not ready for a long term relationship. I don't want to get hurt again and us, girls, we get hurt pretty fast. But I'm intrigued, who is he really? will he be my Mr. Big? It's been a year that we know each other but we never met or actually planned a date. I think it's about time we do something, at least to be 'friends' (can we?).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'll keep you updated! My life gossips are back! =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;M. S.&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/8832352031784397656-6649469722948039274?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6649469722948039274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/letters.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6649469722948039274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6649469722948039274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/letters.html' title='Letters'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/SgXZ1X8WzsI/AAAAAAAAADE/qdp6Ax2dAhY/s72-c/bigcarrie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5348809339836126330</id><published>2009-05-07T15:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:39:27.428-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>My therapy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today, I got a news that I wasn't expecting. A. is dating someone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yes the same guy who told me (like a week ago) that he loved me, remember? Well, looks like some girl at his work is better than me. I can't blame him, I actually tried dating other people but I couldn't, he could. I was sad, angry, I didn't know how to react. Even after he said he was thinking about showing his webcam but then realized it was a bad idea..YES a really bad idea indeed, damn what's wrong with him?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Hey remember I told you I loved you? well now I'm dating some other chick, but hey wanna see me on my webcam? We're still friends right?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;WTF is wrong with you! There you go, I said it. Wow I feel better. But seriously, does he have a brain? or a heart? I don't know. I guess I date jerks. Stupid guys or am I the stupid one? Damn. What's wrong with me? I thought I was a good girl, someone actually &lt;i&gt;dateable.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When I'm sad and in BIG need of change, I shop. A lot. But really, a LOT. I can go shopping and come back with a total bill of 1000$. So you know I have lots of bags and shoes and books etc. Now you can understand I had lots of heart's problems...Yes too many guys broke my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But now, I'm online shopping (just looking, don't worry) and I found this :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/SgM6AkboqsI/AAAAAAAAAC0/RbvQlq3PtqU/s320/janelle_shoes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333170165190798018" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(102, 102, 102);  font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;div id="itemInfo2" style="margin-top: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; "&gt;&lt;div id="displayNameAndPrice2" style="margin-top: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; "&gt;&lt;div class="name" style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; line-height: 20px; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: bold; "&gt;JANNELLE, BOUTIQUE 9 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="notSale"    style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px;   color: rgb(102, 102, 102); border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border- line-height: 20px; font-weight: bold; float: left; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;color:initial;"&gt;$140.00&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="onSale"    style="margin-top: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px;   color: rgb(102, 102, 102); border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border- line-height: 20px; text-decoration: line-through; font-weight: bold; float: left; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:12px;color:initial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="salePrice" style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0pt; margin-right: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; color: rgb(102, 0, 0); border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px; float: left; "&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="desc2" style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0pt; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; clear: both; float: left; background-image: url(http://demandware.edgesuite.net/aaca_prd/on/demandware.static/Sites-ninewest-Site/Sites-ninewest-Library/default/v1241670920174/CSS/productDetail/border_line.gif); background-repeat: repeat-x; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: transparent; background-position: 50% 0%; "&gt;Create instant chic with this ultra feminine gladiator. Leather upper with ankle wrap and zipper detail, 4" heel and leather sole.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Shopping is my therapy, what is yours? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Don't you want to make me happy...? I accept checks, visa, mastercard, amex, paypal and cash =D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5348809339836126330?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5348809339836126330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-shoes-can-make-you-happy.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5348809339836126330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5348809339836126330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-shoes-can-make-you-happy.html' title='My therapy'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/SgM6AkboqsI/AAAAAAAAAC0/RbvQlq3PtqU/s72-c/janelle_shoes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-2508993449036965190</id><published>2009-05-02T23:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:39:49.194-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinion'/><title type='text'>Thin or fat, who cares?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today I watched (as you may know) Ugly Betty's (surprised?) episode about fashion week (2nd season, episode 11 : Zero Worship). And it was about weight. Well Ugly Betty's world is about fashion, true. But are skinny models our new fashion models?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Betty, always trying to change the world, made me wonder...What about our models, our idols ? Do we really (I mean, REALLY) want to be all thin and skinny and just totally squeletic? I don't. Personally, I was kinda fat before and I'm not shy to talk about it. I was a kid and I didn't care about fashion. But these days, I look at kids in the bus, walking on the streets, my neighboors! And what do I see ? Young girls with make-up, push-up bras, thongs...where are the 'normal' young little girls ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 328px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sf0Ykpn9ubI/AAAAAAAAACk/vX3sBCIkEvI/s400/betty23.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331444551804369330" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;To my eyes, fashion isn't about weight, it is about that little something you have and that makes you special and beautiful. The clothes, the accessories, the shoes are necessary, but if  you don't feel good in your body, if you're not confident, if you don't have your own personality...then fashion won't help you be pretty. You may not have the perfect hair or the perfect breast, but you can have that passion or power that no other women have.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So why trying to lose weight, don't kill yourself. If you want to be healthier, then exercice, run, eat healthy food, take care of yourself, smile... that are perfect things to actually be pretty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;'Average' people can be fashion models, if you believe in your prettiness, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;then everybody will.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Take a minute, look at you in the mirror and tell yourself : &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am pretty, I am fashion, I am unique.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-2508993449036965190?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/2508993449036965190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/thin-or-fat-who-cares.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2508993449036965190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2508993449036965190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/thin-or-fat-who-cares.html' title='Thin or fat, who cares?'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_BWIOQ-OaYDM/Sf0Ykpn9ubI/AAAAAAAAACk/vX3sBCIkEvI/s72-c/betty23.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-2191336454245379092</id><published>2009-05-01T17:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:40:14.114-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='geek'/><title type='text'>New Design. New Ideas.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Well for those who haven't noticed yet (google reader's), my blog has now a new design! Until I can actually make one by myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;[This one was found on &lt;a href="http://pyzam.com/"&gt;PYZAM&lt;/a&gt;, there is actually nice templates over there =) check it out!]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Shoes and books, and no shoes ? Couldn't work, and those nice little shoes are so cute, I wanna find them! haha. Have I told you how many pairs of shoes I own ? You really don't want to know. Especially if you're a man, then you'll be like "Damn! I thought my girlfriend was 'too much'!" How many bags I own ? I'm proud of my collection. I think I have 60. I'm not kidding. I'm a maniac. I just love them, don't you?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So let's get back to the main subject of this post: new ideas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yes I've been thinking...Why do I own a blog? I love talking about my life, but since Twitter is on, I'm practically blogging all day, 140 car. at a time. I should write my deepest thoughts on my blog, but what's deep? I may be mature for my age, I still believe in prince charming and sometimes I wish Santa Claus could exist.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So I still am going to post about my daily life, as selfish as it is, as annoying, boring and stupid as always. But I'm going to post more often and maybe just discuss some things that bothers me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It's like, me going wild. Haha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Criticism here I am !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-2191336454245379092?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/2191336454245379092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-design-new-ideas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2191336454245379092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2191336454245379092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-design-new-ideas.html' title='New Design. New Ideas.'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5110407630304149309</id><published>2009-04-26T16:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:40:42.919-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Everything happens for something</title><content type='html'>They say Destiny brings all little actions to make sense.&lt;div&gt;I'm a believer in destiny, that things do happen for something.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It may be hard to understand, hard to say &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"yes it happened for a reason, now let's continue living". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just recently understood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I gotta keep living, working on myself and just simply go on with life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I kept smiling, I smiled at A. and let him be himself, like I stayed myself too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And things got better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can say I am happy in life and that I'm ready to go on with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I may not have my ideal job yet, but I know I'll be able to reach my goals soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll unsubscribe from MC, you can't search love, you just...find it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I'll do a crazy thing and follow my heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like most of my friends tell me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"go for it girl, follow your heart."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why not? what will I lose? I'm young. If it's not the good thing to do, then I'll learn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm the only one choosing my way to follow, and I'm ready to accept the consequences, for better and for worst =)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's spring, it's hot and beautiful outside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No time for depression and sadness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had the best day in my life today, why ? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll tell you someday, soon ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kisses&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;M. S.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5110407630304149309?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5110407630304149309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/04/everything-happens-for-something.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5110407630304149309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5110407630304149309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/04/everything-happens-for-something.html' title='Everything happens for something'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-4867795807806907518</id><published>2009-04-06T19:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:41:22.511-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letters'/><title type='text'>Up and Down</title><content type='html'>I'm tired of being alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, got an illusion of Love with A.&lt;br /&gt;If he doesn't wanna work for it.&lt;br /&gt;I suppose we're gonna be good friends and that's it.&lt;br /&gt;Like I said to many friends, I'm not even sad, I was angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to find someone who loves me.&lt;br /&gt;Someone who wants to build a family.&lt;br /&gt;I need true passionate love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I registered to monclasseur.com ...yes, again.&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what I'll find there.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, is it possible to find someone perfect for you...online?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe, maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;Do I have something to lose? No.&lt;br /&gt;So...why not? hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's actually some nice people on that website...&lt;br /&gt;I found an old friend from back in tha days!&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'll keep you updated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M. S. is in search of Loooooove! ♥&lt;br /&gt;(haha)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-4867795807806907518?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/4867795807806907518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/04/up-and-down.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4867795807806907518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4867795807806907518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/04/up-and-down.html' title='Up and Down'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-2842745280992484972</id><published>2009-04-03T12:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:41:52.659-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Happiness</title><content type='html'>They say life goes on, après la pluie vient le beau temps...&lt;br /&gt;Last time I posted, I wanted to die, to fly to some other world where my feelings would escape.&lt;br /&gt;Where I could live alone and happy.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how, but I'm okay. Thanks god.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I'd never be alright. You know when your world falls apart, you think your life is over. Well, it's not. I know A. loves me still. But maybe we crossed roads but we are taking different ways. I guess he wasn't for me? Still it's hard to realize...&lt;br /&gt;But I say, if someone loves you enough...he'll fight for you, right ?&lt;br /&gt;We are still friends and I'm positive about all this.&lt;br /&gt;I'll find my Mr. Big, my man...just now it wasn't the time.&lt;br /&gt;I finally told M. that I was sorry, we talked...I thought I still had a little something for him, but with time, I realize...no. We're friends and I don't feel these butterflies in my stomach anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a job now, well part-time and I like it, people there are really nice with me.&lt;br /&gt;School is...well...is...so-so, I'm not really motivated. But I guess it's gonna be alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to get you updated. I'm doing pretty good, really positive and I guess that's me. Positive. I can smile at life, I can say I'm Me. I can say I have the best friends in the world.&lt;br /&gt;I hope you are all doing good, I know sometimes life is hard...but we gotta stay strong and continue...Our goals are nearer than we think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and, mom&amp;amp;dad back from Peru! I received looots of gifts!! =D&lt;br /&gt;Have a nice day all! and GLUCK for finals!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-2842745280992484972?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/2842745280992484972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/04/happiness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2842745280992484972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2842745280992484972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/04/happiness.html' title='Happiness'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8477941788432754893</id><published>2009-03-18T03:43:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:42:08.750-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotion'/><title type='text'>My world falling apart</title><content type='html'>It's like my world stopped.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could never imagine this happening so fast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But in a way...I knew this would happen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I help it ? I don't know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I know is that I can't cry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why ? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sad, I'm frustrated...i just don't understand.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's weird how karma works.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've done things to M. that he keeped saying it was bad and all, and I couldn't understand...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and now all those little things...are happening to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I know how it can hurt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's like... even though most people don't like M. that much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish I could see him and say "I know how you felt and I'm really sorry."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not feeling good right now...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has to do with A. of course.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will write back soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gnight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-8477941788432754893?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8477941788432754893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-world-falling-apart.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8477941788432754893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8477941788432754893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-world-falling-apart.html' title='My world falling apart'/><author><name>shoesandbooks</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-1367070587190950299</id><published>2009-03-10T12:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T22:09:54.350-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>News!</title><content type='html'>I think it was about time I updated haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you excuse me? I'm just into twitter a lot these days, so I post everything on my mind over there, so it's like...It feels like repetition writing on my blog.&lt;br /&gt;Last week it was spring break, the famous week we all wait to relax, party and stuff like that.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I didn't party a lot, I saw some friends and it was cool =)&lt;br /&gt;One of my friend got sick and yeah I cleaned...i'm too good haha&lt;br /&gt;Weeks are going faster and faster, I feel old lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hum I got a job! not a BIG one, but at least something to get a little money =) starting working march 17th yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else...hummm I met my bro's gf...I was scared cause if I didnt like her I was gonna make her life a disaster lol, but she's cool so I'm okay with her =) actually I think I'm a pretty cool sister-in-law hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH and my program now has possibility to study in Italy! sooooo who's going to Italy???&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I totally am going !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is the plan, dream with me :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E2009 (summer) : working + maybe a class online&lt;br /&gt;A2009 (fall) : working + italian class at night (maybe portuguese class at night too)&lt;br /&gt;H2010 (winter) : LEAVING FOR BRASIL MARCH TILL JULY 2010 =D&lt;br /&gt;E2010 (summer) : working till october 2010&lt;br /&gt;A2010 (fall) : LEAVING FOR ITALY OCTOBER TILL FEBRUARY 2011 =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...who's jealous ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-1367070587190950299?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/1367070587190950299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-think-it-was-about-time-i-updated.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1367070587190950299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1367070587190950299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-think-it-was-about-time-i-updated.html' title='News!'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5308962912022916452</id><published>2009-02-27T01:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:44:25.878-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frustration'/><title type='text'>Stupid Guys</title><content type='html'>I was gonna kill someone tonight.&lt;br /&gt;This stupid @#$%?&amp;amp;*())(*&amp;amp;?#$%?()(*&amp;amp;?%$##$%? guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a line-up to pick up our coats at the bar.&lt;br /&gt;So like I see the line, there's a hole and then some people together talking...&lt;br /&gt;My friend and I wait in the hole, making the line to get our coats.&lt;br /&gt;Then this guy behind touches my friend's shoulder and tells us we could also wait at the bottom of the line like everybody. WTF?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had no fucking idea they were in the fucking line.&lt;br /&gt;And he tells us that like laughing and with a smile, I wanted to kick him on the face.&lt;br /&gt;Come on, you dumbass, if you weren't talking and not moving with your barbie girls, you would have seen that you weren't following the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad for you, not my fault you're a lunatic.&lt;br /&gt;Damn...I hate people who think they are someone just because they SEEM to have muscles...come on, I don't care if you think you're hot and pretty, I really don't care...&lt;br /&gt;just fucking follow the line so you won't lose your place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we didnt even do it on purpose, I just thought they weren't in the line...and he starts arguying...COME ON, he got his coat 2 seconds after us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRRRR. I hate stupid guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But...the fashion parade was nice, my friend was the prettiest yay! =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5308962912022916452?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5308962912022916452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/stupid-guys.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5308962912022916452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5308962912022916452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/stupid-guys.html' title='Stupid Guys'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-1602680741845651259</id><published>2009-02-26T17:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:46:13.222-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Spring...Winter break ?</title><content type='html'>I thought this week would never end.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had 3 exams, 2 job interviews, 2 classes and little sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My examz were okay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My job interviews, I think pretty good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And my sleep...well...I just slept and completely forgot my class.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, somewhere deep in me I'm sure I didn't wanna go, that's why I didn't wake up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I definitely need  Starbucks now. I just don't understand why there isn't a Starbucks downtown, it's crazy and I'm pissed !!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But everything is fine...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next week, it's spring break? Well still lots of snow outside, so...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One week no class, let me : YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok I did it, thanks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wonder what I'll do, party? getting drunk? study? dinner parties? or just...SLEEP.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I so need a guy with me right fucking now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A. why are you so far from me =(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all, I must get some coffee now or I'll probably die in the next few mins.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-1602680741845651259?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/1602680741845651259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/springwinter-break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1602680741845651259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1602680741845651259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/springwinter-break.html' title='Spring...Winter break ?'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-3616717680843108177</id><published>2009-02-19T13:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:46:35.424-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotion'/><title type='text'>Valentine's gift</title><content type='html'>Oh I forgot to say that even though my BF is 6600km away from me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got THE perfect gift =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked on the phone for hours...&lt;br /&gt;and he composed a song for me before I left.&lt;br /&gt;So Saturday night he sang it to me, while playing it on the guitar.&lt;br /&gt;It is awesomeeeeeeeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the cutest thing a guy ever did for me &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-3616717680843108177?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/3616717680843108177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-gift.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/3616717680843108177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/3616717680843108177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-gift.html' title='Valentine&apos;s gift'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6341720740446469347</id><published>2009-02-19T13:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:47:57.602-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Bored</title><content type='html'>Nothing much to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days I've been going to classes and trying to study but it ain't easy.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so bored, there's nothing to do.&lt;br /&gt;My dad left for south...lucky him.&lt;br /&gt;My mom is leaving soon too.&lt;br /&gt;I miss A. It's really hard.&lt;br /&gt;I try being strong but everything makes me remember him.&lt;br /&gt;I still have like 295 days to wait...&lt;br /&gt;I'm going crazy, and I still don't have a job...Sooo I have 100% of my time to think about us and me missing him.&lt;br /&gt;I can't even concentrate to study, I don't feel like being at the good place right now.&lt;br /&gt;I hope it will change or...I'm going to leave Canada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, I'm praying to have a call for a job...or I don't know what I'll do.&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, my life is boring, so I won't add more.&lt;br /&gt;Take care =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-6341720740446469347?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6341720740446469347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/bored.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6341720740446469347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6341720740446469347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/bored.html' title='Bored'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6454637841218449075</id><published>2009-02-14T01:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:48:19.846-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Will you be my Valentine ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 399px; height: 317px;" src="http://i226.photobucket.com/albums/dd122/hi54allll/imagenes/san-valentin/San_valentin88358.jpg" title="Love" alt="Love" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Porque a veces te pienso, porque a veces te lloro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;porque a veces no encuentro las palabras, para decirte que eres todo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;es que estas en mi mente cada vez que respiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;por que vida, no me importa nada cuando no estas conmigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;quiero sentirte entre mis brazos, todavía&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;enamorarme más de ti, hacerte mí[o], como la primera vez.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Porque a veces te pierdo, porque a veces te encuentro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;escondid[o] en la jungla de mis sueños, en mis noches de desvelo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;porque eres mi locura, mi ansiedad y mi pasión.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;porque no, yo no entiendo cuando grita el silencio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;ni el orgullo que frena nuestras manos a la caricia del perdón&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;porque no existen reglas ni el romance perfecto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;porque la historia que vivimos, fue escrita por los dos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Quiero sentirte aquí en mis brazos, todavía&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;enamorarme más de ti, hacerte mí[o], como la primera vez…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Porque a veces me ignoras, porque a veces me amas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;porque el tiempo nos une cada día, a pesar de la distancia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;porque a veces me enfrentas, porque a veces me abrazas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;porque llenas mi vida con tu risa, con tu voz y tú mirar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;porque crees en mis locuras y me entiendes sin hablar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 20px; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:arial,tahoma,verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;…..te quiero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Valentine's day.&lt;br /&gt;Don't forget to tell your loved ones that you love them.&lt;br /&gt;Boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife,&lt;br /&gt;brothers, sisters, mom, dad,&lt;br /&gt;FRIENDS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;I love you A.&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/8832352031784397656-6454637841218449075?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6454637841218449075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/will-you-be-my-valentine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6454637841218449075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6454637841218449075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/will-you-be-my-valentine.html' title='Will you be my Valentine ?'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5408062153674470018</id><published>2009-02-11T13:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:56:06.253-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='geek'/><title type='text'>Now Updated</title><content type='html'>Woah. I didn't realize I was following so many blogs...&lt;br /&gt;I just finished reading everything I haven't read in like...2-3 days? or even less...&lt;br /&gt;You guys write a lot !!!&lt;br /&gt;But I love it =)&lt;br /&gt;So many people are good at blogging.&lt;br /&gt;So I'm making a little publicity and inviting you to see my blog list&lt;br /&gt;that is in my sidebar right there ---------&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spending time online will be funnier and you'll be addicted like me.&lt;br /&gt;Also, I invite you to go on youtube and listen to some Demi Lovato's songs,&lt;br /&gt;right now I'm listening "Don't Forget" in repeat &gt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I handed in my papers for my semester in Brasil, wow like 20 pages.&lt;br /&gt;I'm catching up all my readings I haven't done and then this w-e Valentine Day...&lt;br /&gt;how to make me even more sad ?...&lt;br /&gt;I might spend 5678909987567$$$ calling A.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5408062153674470018?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5408062153674470018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/now-updated.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5408062153674470018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5408062153674470018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/now-updated.html' title='Now Updated'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-2731121928369158651</id><published>2009-02-11T04:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T23:56:19.779-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><title type='text'>Brasil</title><content type='html'>For those who follow my little life, I'm planning on studying abroad...one semester in : Florianopolis (Floripa for intims) in Brasil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So at 12h today it's the limit to hand in our files and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;It's 5h am and I just finished preparing everything.&lt;br /&gt;Damn I was so stressed...but I finally finished.&lt;br /&gt;I chose three universities in Brasil (just in case my first choice doesn't work), two in Florianopolis and the third in Salvador. I had to do a 6 pages paper and everything in portuguese, man...i wanted to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But A. called me tonight and wow, even though I was dead and about to leave everything and just forget about Brasil...He told me I could do it and...he was right. I can do it, we always can. Ok I won't sleep a lot and I have classes, so what ? I did what I wanted to do, Yes I can! haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let's hope everything is okay and that my first choice will be approuved!&lt;br /&gt;Pray for me! Oh and...search FLORIANOPOLIS on youtube, there's some nice video to make YOU jealous =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gnight! I'll be reading my followings soon.&lt;br /&gt;Kisses&lt;br /&gt;M.S.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-2731121928369158651?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/2731121928369158651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/brasil.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2731121928369158651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2731121928369158651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/brasil.html' title='Brasil'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-7303265145814839343</id><published>2009-02-09T23:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T00:13:18.763-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='study'/><title type='text'>My head hurts</title><content type='html'>Wow, I haven't posted a lot these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's Twitter's fault. yeah i'm addicted to him.&lt;br /&gt;He's so sexy and blue...hmmmm.&lt;br /&gt;Lmao. Ok I'm crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I finally did this HUGE politics exam...I didn't sleep for days and studied like crazy...for...that.&lt;br /&gt;It was easy like whoa. Hahaha. I think I was worried for nothing.&lt;br /&gt;But I have too many info in my head, all these countries, wars, dates, wah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to work on my papers for my semester in Brasil.&lt;br /&gt;I have to prepare everything for...wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I'm gonna die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buuuuuuuuuuuuut, after that, I'M FREE...well...for some hours.&lt;br /&gt;Can someone kill me ?&lt;br /&gt;or just...do all my homework ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-7303265145814839343?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/7303265145814839343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-head-hurts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7303265145814839343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7303265145814839343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-head-hurts.html' title='My head hurts'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-1037982760813543129</id><published>2009-02-08T03:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T00:14:10.954-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Distance</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Who said love at distance is impossible ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hard yes, really.&lt;br /&gt;A. lives at 6600km from me and when I think about it, I think I'm dying.&lt;br /&gt;When we trully really love someone, no matter where he is, how he is, what he is doing...&lt;br /&gt;we love and love and...love!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok I'm a little too lovey-dovey =)&lt;br /&gt;I'm in Love, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6600km...DAMN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-1037982760813543129?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/1037982760813543129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/distance.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1037982760813543129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1037982760813543129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/distance.html' title='Distance'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-1460455031173524969</id><published>2009-02-07T14:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T00:17:56.501-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='study'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Reading</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Remember the book I was reading ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still haven't finished. I just choked for latin dance show tonight. I had free tickets and I'm not going, damn it. I hate university. But it's my fault I know, I should have studied before...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I tell you I had the cutest BF in the world ?&lt;br /&gt;Well he is. Love you A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brain please let me read all these 200 pages and don't die.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-1460455031173524969?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/1460455031173524969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/reading.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1460455031173524969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1460455031173524969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/reading.html' title='Reading'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-2001119570670008591</id><published>2009-02-06T19:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T00:18:11.433-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='geek'/><title type='text'>Twitter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/shoesandbooks"&gt;FOLLOW ME =)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I practically was online all day...Twittering (yeah a new word haha)...&lt;br /&gt;I'm such an addict X_X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But damn, I love it, it's my new addiction...&lt;br /&gt;after internet, msn, facebook, hi5, blogger, shoes, purses, hot chocolate, chips, books...&lt;br /&gt;DAMN.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you MUST take a look at TWITTER, our new friend and GOD. haha.&lt;/span&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/8832352031784397656-2001119570670008591?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/2001119570670008591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/twitter.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2001119570670008591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/2001119570670008591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/twitter.html' title='Twitter'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-7501724639381431595</id><published>2009-02-05T19:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T19:23:07.992-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsessed Stalker?</title><content type='html'>My god, I just realised I'm in the same class than a weirdo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy "used to" be a kind-of-a-friend. I mean, we talked in classes and sometimes online (when he was on my friends list, not anymore). I stopped talking to him when I received emails from his gf. She was so sweet, she wrote to me worried about him because...&lt;br /&gt;and that's the weird story...she thought we were having an affair...(ughhh no thanks).&lt;br /&gt;Why ? She discovered...a whole folder with pleeeeeenty of MY pictures...only MINE...not random naked or sexy girls...no no...me and only my pictures completely normal, no-naked, no-sex thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was like...omfg !!! I didn't give him so many pictures...but at that time I had some webpages and personal stuff online, so...he might have found them...&lt;br /&gt;So the poor little girl, had the strength to ask me what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I told her the truth, that I f-ed him...naaah I'm kidding. NEVER. My gooood. So not my type. Anyway. I told her he was just a friend and that we never hang out outside school and stuff like that, trying to cheer her up or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this ex-friend, is in my class...and he...taaaalked to me. Yuk.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like cheaters...but I HATE obsessed guys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-7501724639381431595?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/7501724639381431595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/obsessed-stalker.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7501724639381431595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7501724639381431595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/obsessed-stalker.html' title='Obsessed Stalker?'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8726965170050276517</id><published>2009-02-04T23:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T23:35:38.405-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you want to know me ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So as you noticed, I'm really bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I don't have anything to do *little laugh* I have so many things to do, but...Procrastination is my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I thought, let's add some interaction.&lt;br /&gt;Post a question as a comment, ANYTHING* and I will answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;* except my real name, my phone number &amp;amp; my address.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-8726965170050276517?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8726965170050276517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/do-you-want-to-know-me.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8726965170050276517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8726965170050276517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/do-you-want-to-know-me.html' title='Do you want to know me ?'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-893437695856508656</id><published>2009-02-04T23:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T23:23:50.299-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so Bored</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?&lt;br /&gt;No, but after a perfume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?&lt;br /&gt;Tears of joy…after all the beautiful words my BF tells me.&lt;br /&gt;Tears of sadness…when I had to leave my BF (we’re living in different countries, but still together &lt;3)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, but it was prettier before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?&lt;br /&gt;Macaronis? Haha idk, any pasta J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?&lt;br /&gt;No…well if you don’t count the twins in process haha XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?&lt;br /&gt;Absolutely, I love who I am and I think I’m nice to be around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. DO YOU USE SARCASM?&lt;br /&gt;Yea but not that often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?&lt;br /&gt;Yep…hmmm I think so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?&lt;br /&gt;Ughhhhhh only if some REALLY GOOD friend wants me to do it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?&lt;br /&gt;Hmm kellogs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?&lt;br /&gt;Now yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?&lt;br /&gt;LUCUMA, no hesitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?&lt;br /&gt;Their hands, their mouth and their shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. RED OR PINK?&lt;br /&gt;Depends ;-)  but I prefer pink…well fushia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm…little belly XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?&lt;br /&gt;Do I really need to answer ? My lover, my soulmate, A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?&lt;br /&gt;I have boxers on and socks…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?&lt;br /&gt;Nothing, wow it is unusual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?&lt;br /&gt;Purple or Fushia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. FAVORITE SMELLS?&lt;br /&gt;Vanilla and my man’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?&lt;br /&gt;A friend who needed a shoulder to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH&lt;br /&gt;FUTBOL (soccer…)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. HAIR COLOR?&lt;br /&gt;Black, but natural brown and I’m letting it natural!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. EYE COLOR?&lt;br /&gt;Brown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?&lt;br /&gt;Nop, but I do have Chanel eyeglasses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. FAVORITE FOODS?&lt;br /&gt;Anything Peruvian…damn I miss GOOD food, sushis &amp;amp; Italian food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?&lt;br /&gt;Happy endings, I’m such a girl XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?&lt;br /&gt;Love Actually, just saw it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?&lt;br /&gt;Purple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. SUMMER OR WINTER?&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha, this is funny…SUMMER…I’m tired of -40C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. HUGS OR KISSES?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I have to choose ??? I want BOTH…can we have sex too? haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?&lt;br /&gt;What bookSSS am I reading now ? An history/politics book, Something borrowed and… +++&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?&lt;br /&gt;Does people still have that ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?&lt;br /&gt;I don’t want much TV, but I watch series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. FAVORITE SOUND(S).&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm. I’m not answering that =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?&lt;br /&gt;Pink Floyd ? Seriously, I can’t choose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?&lt;br /&gt;Peru, but it is my home too…so…United states.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?&lt;br /&gt;I can make YOU fall in love with me…no okay I’m not an heartbreaker, I’d say I’m pretty good at helping people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. HOW DID YOU MEET YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER?&lt;br /&gt;In a room, and we hooked up the first time…yeah…haha.&lt;br /&gt;No seriously, he was my cousin’s bestfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. WHERE WOULD YOU TRAVEL, NOW ?&lt;br /&gt;Peru, Brasil, Italy, Spain, Portugal...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-893437695856508656?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/893437695856508656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-so-bored.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/893437695856508656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/893437695856508656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-so-bored.html' title='I&apos;m so Bored'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5077040334474394688</id><published>2009-02-04T14:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T14:15:31.751-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry Mom</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://sorry-mom.com/"&gt;Sorry-Mom&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;spread the love... haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just discovered this website and I'm sooo loving it...&lt;br /&gt;I'm wondering if I should submit someone......................... XD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5077040334474394688?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5077040334474394688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/sorry-mom.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5077040334474394688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5077040334474394688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/sorry-mom.html' title='Sorry Mom'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8243097813456707793</id><published>2009-02-03T17:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T18:11:39.576-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Feel...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1004/576548456_e1fe1cef10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 382px; height: 287px;" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1004/576548456_e1fe1cef10.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ameriquebec.net/wp-content/fgallery/images/Peru_Machu_Picchu_59.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 381px; height: 259px;" src="http://www.ameriquebec.net/wp-content/fgallery/images/Peru_Machu_Picchu_59.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.playasycosta.com/images/mancora.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 382px; height: 265px;" src="http://www.playasycosta.com/images/mancora.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love (my city). Proud (of my culture). Jealous (I want beaches!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Miss my Peru.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-8243097813456707793?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8243097813456707793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-feel.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8243097813456707793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8243097813456707793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-feel.html' title='I Feel...'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1004/576548456_e1fe1cef10_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8694337536040652711</id><published>2009-02-03T17:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T17:27:10.867-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Body</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;OMG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it.&lt;br /&gt;I put my feet on it...crossed my fingers...closed my eyes...&lt;br /&gt;(please, please, please, I've been a good girl)&lt;br /&gt;opened them&lt;br /&gt;and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;113 lbs&lt;br /&gt;so :&lt;br /&gt;51.36 kg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thin &gt;_&lt; haha ok not really thin, but let's remember I was trying to lose weight...right ?&lt;br /&gt;December 2007 I was at 131 lbs (59.55kg) and now 8 kg less ??? What have I done ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... Nothing !! I'm eating less junk food ok. But I'm still not training. I think vacations in south america really helped me, and falling in love too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, I could do some training, it could just get better. Let's try.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-8694337536040652711?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8694337536040652711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/dream-body.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8694337536040652711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8694337536040652711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/dream-body.html' title='Dream Body'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-1345597872387190904</id><published>2009-02-03T03:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T03:46:05.904-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Addiction</title><content type='html'>I was thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My blog shouldn't be : ShoesandBooks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but : &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NetAddict&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ConfessionsofaNetAddict&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn. I need help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st recovery phase is to admit it.&lt;br /&gt;What if I actually like...being addict... ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-1345597872387190904?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/1345597872387190904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/addiction.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1345597872387190904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1345597872387190904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/addiction.html' title='Addiction'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-4440450865878929827</id><published>2009-02-02T21:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T03:07:32.834-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When Aidan is in the place, Mr. Big appears</title><content type='html'>So like my title says, Mr. Big appeared today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish he didn't. Not that my feelings are confused now. No, nothing at all.&lt;br /&gt;I just didn't want to deal with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found my Aidan, the perfect simple and loving man.&lt;br /&gt;I am happy with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my Mr. Big...aka M. texted me today. After about a month without talking.&lt;br /&gt;We stopped talking in a fight, when I was still in vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can he text me and expect me to be as friend as before with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry M. you are too late, things changed, they moved on,&lt;br /&gt;so did I.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-4440450865878929827?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/4440450865878929827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-aidan-is-in-place-mr-big-appears.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4440450865878929827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/4440450865878929827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/when-aidan-is-in-place-mr-big-appears.html' title='When Aidan is in the place, Mr. Big appears'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-7465844221290794073</id><published>2009-02-01T20:04:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T22:10:58.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Multi tasking</title><content type='html'>J'écoute le superbowl (et wow c'était toute une course ça!),&lt;br /&gt;j'étudie pour mon cours d'anthropologie de l'Amérique du Sud&lt;br /&gt;et j'attends que mon BB se connecte...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouais, c'est ce qu'on appelle une femme "multi-tâches".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-7465844221290794073?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/7465844221290794073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/multi-tasking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7465844221290794073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7465844221290794073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/02/multi-tasking.html' title='Multi tasking'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8325583764801482945</id><published>2009-01-31T13:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T13:28:37.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleaning</title><content type='html'>I've been cleaning my room for now ... 3 days ?&lt;br /&gt;and still haven't finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never thought it would be that hard... I mean ok I've been postponing this for years...&lt;br /&gt;I've found love letters back from high school, pictures when I was such a kid, hello kittie stickers, a loooot of stuff. It makes me laugh. I had a paper written "Me ..... swear that in one year from now ...2006, I will have done that : ..." And I haven't done any of that list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a life is made to dream. I will do them. Soon.&lt;br /&gt;I'm proud of myself, trying to clean the past and go on with my new future.&lt;br /&gt;I've never been so sure of who I am and what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is a new me, a new beginning.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My Life is about shoes, purses, books and... Love &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-8325583764801482945?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8325583764801482945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/cleaning.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8325583764801482945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8325583764801482945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/cleaning.html' title='Cleaning'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-6829890810238676051</id><published>2009-01-28T02:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T13:29:15.240-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss International</title><content type='html'>So I finally decided where I'm going in Brasil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes a whole semester in Brasil, 4-5 months ... from march to june-july 2010 in...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;FLORIANOPOLIS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 430px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 322px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.theage.com.au/ffximage/2006/01/24/Florianopolis_wideweb__430x322,0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 435px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.jennymackness.co.uk/Images/florianopolis%20city.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/archive/4/4f/20070216225351!Florianopolis_downtown_night.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 437px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 245px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/archive/4/4f/20070216225351!Florianopolis_downtown_night.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, who's coming ? haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theage.com.au/ffximage/2006/01/24/Florianopolis_wideweb__430x322,0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-6829890810238676051?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/6829890810238676051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/miss-international.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6829890810238676051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/6829890810238676051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/miss-international.html' title='Miss International'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5337423592581468917</id><published>2009-01-26T01:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T01:58:09.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding a Job</title><content type='html'>I need...money.&lt;br /&gt;BUT, not to buy clothes or stupid stuff.&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;I really do need money, to pay for my studies and...to go back to Peru.&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm crazy. But I need my country and...well, my lover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been looking for secretary jobs, and I hope I'll find a good one...&lt;br /&gt;well anything that pays more that 10$ per hour please.&lt;br /&gt;I've applied to 2 jobs, let's pray I'll have some feedback.&lt;br /&gt;I'm also applying for another one tomorrow morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please god, pleaseeeeee...I REALLY need a job.&lt;br /&gt;I'll be a good girl this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... please ? =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5337423592581468917?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5337423592581468917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/finding-job.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5337423592581468917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5337423592581468917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/finding-job.html' title='Finding a Job'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-3252030814501812348</id><published>2009-01-23T18:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T18:58:35.269-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love &lt;3</title><content type='html'>Love, that amazing feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You feel stronger, happier.&lt;br /&gt;Anything could happen, you'd work it and still smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today it's been a month. A month since the day I met an Angel.&lt;br /&gt;It changed my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just received a surprise gift for our first month. A video he made with our pics and our song, with a text he wrote for me. What could I ask more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awwww &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;I trully love you my Angel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-3252030814501812348?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/3252030814501812348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/love-3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/3252030814501812348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/3252030814501812348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/love-3.html' title='Love &lt;3'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-1400987541253706820</id><published>2009-01-23T03:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T03:46:51.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting over</title><content type='html'>I'll try updating this as much as I can =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So a new year started, 2009...what is gonna happen to me...who knows.&lt;br /&gt;I started classes again (well I lost the first week cause I was in Peru), this 2nd week was...kinda rough. I mean, classes aren't difficult, but I'm still in the vacation kinda mood. Laying in bed, sleeping late at night. I think I just have to fix my life. But it is hard, I haven't told you the newest news. I met an Angel, if you read my last entries. I can smile again, I feel happy and I want to live my life at its 100%. We never know when and who we are going to meet, but I'm trully happy to have found him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I don't wanna live here, in the cold. But, I must work and study hard, if I wanna come back home. So I did my curriculum again, I'm searching for a job and tonight I postulated online for a job. If I am lucky, I might get an interview ? Wish me luck. I trully need a job, I need money. Please ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I finished watching a japonese anime "Ah! my goddess" which is...wow. I love it so much, it makes me remember of my Angel. I'm so girly sometimes...&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I started watching Gossip Girl too, I had heard some nice comments about it, but never thought of watching it. Damn!!! I missed something ! I can't stop watching haha. Seems like a new addiction !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I'm starting everything to get fixed. I need to start this year, the best way I can.&lt;br /&gt;So I'm gonna clean my room. Classificate my papers and stuff. Find new jobs to postulate. And read and do my homework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009, you won't recognize me ! =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-1400987541253706820?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/1400987541253706820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/starting-over.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1400987541253706820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/1400987541253706820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/starting-over.html' title='Starting over'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-7374138619023882562</id><published>2009-01-15T15:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T15:35:11.442-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome back</title><content type='html'>De retour, au Québec, avec le froid INTENSE qu'on dit.&lt;br /&gt;Personnellement j'étais tellement préparée mentalement à un -40C&lt;br /&gt;que le petit -30 m'a pas trop fait souffrir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Après un voyage, que j'aurais essayé de raconter, mais en vain.&lt;br /&gt;Trop de surprises et de péripéties que j'ai en mémoire mais que j'ai décidé de vous cacher, histoire de garder le suspense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je suis heureuse de mon voyage, triste d'être partie...mais ainsi va la vie.&lt;br /&gt;Je rêve d'y retourner déjà...je travaille sur ça.&lt;br /&gt;Ramasser mon argent pour repartir, déjà ? Oui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bon début de sessions aux étudiants, qui comme moi...doivent se taper 5 cours universitaires et qui, doivent faire 1h de bus pour se rendre à l'Univ, beurk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-7374138619023882562?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/7374138619023882562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/welcome-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7374138619023882562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/7374138619023882562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2009/01/welcome-back.html' title='Welcome back'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-5839500491783342781</id><published>2008-12-25T16:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T16:51:50.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Joyeux Noël !</title><content type='html'>Joyeux Noël ! Feliz Navidad ! Merry Christmas ! Feliz Natal ! Buon Natale !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je prends quelques instants pour vous souhaiter un Joyeux Noël et un beau temps des fêtes, j'espère que vous vous êtes amusés à votre réveillon et que vous avez reçus plein de beaux cadeaux.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Je vais venir vous raconter ce qui s'est passé ces derniers jours bientôt :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prenez soin de vous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas to all of my friends, hope you had plenty of fun!&lt;br /&gt;take care and enjoy your holidays ... as much as I do =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-5839500491783342781?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/5839500491783342781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2008/12/joyeux-nol.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5839500491783342781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/5839500491783342781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2008/12/joyeux-nol.html' title='Joyeux Noël !'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-9034425675909334975</id><published>2008-12-11T02:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T22:15:55.327-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Procrastination</title><content type='html'>Again, it's 2h42 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm posting some random entry, and I'm not studying for my geography exam on saturday.&lt;br /&gt;I just can't study. Not that it is hard, but it's boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;+ I'm working tomorrow morning, I will be dead.&lt;br /&gt;Soon it will be over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two exams on saturday, then takin the plane on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;Hope you are doing good in your finals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll just sleep. Time for me to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I'll probably post some random entries like this one.&lt;br /&gt;Just to write down my thoughts, as stupid as they can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XD too many redbull. Feeling weird, ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-9034425675909334975?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/9034425675909334975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2008/12/procrastination.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/9034425675909334975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/9034425675909334975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2008/12/procrastination.html' title='Procrastination'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8832352031784397656.post-8477185394118715842</id><published>2008-12-10T23:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T23:13:50.130-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome</title><content type='html'>New start...AGAIN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm a changeaholic ? ...&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;ok let's stay with the old spendaholic, it suits me better.&lt;br /&gt;So new beginning, new start and...end of classes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have two exams and I'm online, why?&lt;br /&gt;If you ask, then you probably don't know me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 23h per day online, on facebook, MAB, or probably just surfing through stupid and useless stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also shop and read. That's my life...shopping, reading and surfing online. Wow.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I just wanted to start this blog to...try this out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks fun. I'll keep the writing ! =)&lt;br /&gt;Oh and, for the oldies, yeah you girls reading me...&lt;br /&gt;I'm known as Mariela Solana, for the purpose of this blogging, I found it exciting having a mysterious identity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8832352031784397656-8477185394118715842?l=shoesandbooks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/feeds/8477185394118715842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2008/12/welcome.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8477185394118715842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8832352031784397656/posts/default/8477185394118715842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shoesandbooks.blogspot.com/2008/12/welcome.html' title='Welcome'/><author><name>...</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
