<?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-9152462153831475389</id><updated>2011-12-16T00:29:33.806-05:00</updated><category term='dark'/><category term='poser'/><category term='love'/><category term='boy girl friend'/><category term='colorgenics'/><category term='broken'/><title type='text'>Life's an overcast</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-2426740648486641257</id><published>2010-03-23T20:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T23:35:35.708-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Abandoned Again?</title><content type='html'>Oh dear, this blog has been yet abandoned again. The same story happens to my other blogs really. Pathetic, I know. But hey, from now on I solemnly swear that I will update more often. Thats all for now. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Will update soon! I promise :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-2426740648486641257?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/2426740648486641257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=2426740648486641257&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2426740648486641257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2426740648486641257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2010/03/abandoned-again.html' title='Abandoned Again?'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-2592408742063160099</id><published>2009-10-27T22:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T22:29:23.275-04:00</updated><title type='text'>School Struggles</title><content type='html'>It's 10:23 in the evening and I'm here, blogging, awake. Well, its not that its unusual for me to stay this late. Duh. Anyways, for just a few updates from my life, uhh, where to start. Well, first off, as the title suggests, I'm in deep waters with my grades and its not that I'm dumb. Hell no. Its that I'm the queen of laziness. Call me Princess L if you will. Internet distractions doesn't help either. I get easily distracted with Facebook games like Pet Society and Country Story. OMG. I'm super F. But, you know, Im trying to rise myself from the ashes naman. And also, I'm thinking of turning myself off from the net, I might cancel my accounts from FS, Multiply, Plurk and who knows what else. Im turning myself into a Neo Luddite, maybe? I'm still not sure but Im definitly not removing my FB and Blogger account. That's all for now, buhbye -.^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-2592408742063160099?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/2592408742063160099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=2592408742063160099&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2592408742063160099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2592408742063160099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/10/school-struggles.html' title='School Struggles'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-2038696781408084031</id><published>2009-10-03T21:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T23:10:59.033-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fiction</title><content type='html'>Two bodies rested on the soft and dewy blade of grass of the hill. As my body betrays my courage to pretend that I felt warm against the night air, my bare skin showed goose bumps which gives me an automatic reaction to cross my arms and calm the raised hairs by rubbing my palms towards my flesh. A fog on my breath made me looked down on my chest and when I did, I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of spark of the necklace I'm wearing. I lifted my right hand to reach the pendant hangin between my breasts. I caught it and elevate it into an angle where I can see the most of it. I stared at the red blood tear-shaped, crystal-like pendant. This necklace never fails to impress me, once again, I was pleased by its elegant beauty. I was playing with my choker by twisting it with my thumb and index finger when the person besides me exhailed a heavy sigh. I peered at him but he didn't gave my gaze back. I stared at his profile for tens of seconds. He is so beautiful and enchanting that I often wonder if he's a vampire. The necklace that he gave me proved  that he's real. Maybe not a vampire, but he's presence is true. He looked up and the moonlight gave his brown eyes a slight hazel tint. I knew that he knew that I was staring at him but he didn't seem to mind. He stretched his left hand and placed his arm over my shoulders. I rested my head over his muscular bosom. I cast an upward gaze again, but this time he was the one looking at me. I was convinced that my red blood cells raced toward my cheeks since a quick upward curved showed into his lips. I was mesmerized even though I know I shouldn't be. He smiled once again, but I felt uncomfortable on this second one he gave me. I'm genuinely sure that, that grin meant something. I was sure that he was meaning 3 words,until, I thought harder, and realized I was wrong. It wasn't that three words that he wanted to say! It was only two. Daggers graved my heart and a hot rush perched into my throat. I've never wanted more air from my life but this time, it looks like I reaally need the most oxygen I could get. I was sure, so positive, that Eric's cold smile and warm eyes, meant "hello" and "goodbye".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-2038696781408084031?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/2038696781408084031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=2038696781408084031&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2038696781408084031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2038696781408084031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/10/two-bodies-rested-on-soft-and-dewy.html' title='Fiction'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-3515266217448259192</id><published>2009-09-23T18:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T18:59:39.966-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stand High Petite Model</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.eonline.com/eol_images/Entire_Site/20090818/425.ANTM.cycle13.cast.lc.081809.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 483px; height: 357px;" src="http://images.eonline.com/eol_images/Entire_Site/20090818/425.ANTM.cycle13.cast.lc.081809.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, as an avid watcher of a "reality" talent show called  America's Next Top Model was utterly shocked to the core when I figured out that Tyra Banks refused auditions from statuesque goddesses and accepted petite girls instead. I was so shocked that I felt a crack from my skull, literally. As you all know, the first and foremost requirement in high fashion industry is to have a atleast 5"7' height. And as you've heard, Tyra crushed the modeling world standards by searching a top model whose height was always considered as "short". To be honest, I am huge fan of ANTM since I started watching it in youtube. Its true that its often accompanied by unnecessary girl dramas, bitch fights, AND Tyra's narcissistic ego, but hey, a girls gotta watch what she has to watch, right? Anyways, the point is. I think that Tyra's major decision may, DO have some negative criticisms received from high labeled designers and even top selling agencies, (NOTE that Elite Management did not sponsor the show this time), but I'm pretty sure that she did a great job increasing short aspiring models' confidence. Tyra Banks is one of the infamous model with so many incredible accomplishments, and seeing her cheers for the short girls is just pure ethereal to me.  I'd would love to become a model but meh, I'm too ugly to become one. On the other hand, who knows how hurt could the petite models get, after getting eliminated when we all know that fighting against the world would be really tough and complicated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-3515266217448259192?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/3515266217448259192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=3515266217448259192&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/3515266217448259192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/3515266217448259192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/09/stand-high-petite-model.html' title='Stand High Petite Model'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-4644666134667563888</id><published>2009-09-14T23:04:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T23:43:07.411-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Girlfriends Understand</title><content type='html'>It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon in a fairly humid day, early fall. Classes had stopped forty minutes ago yetmy body feels a little exhausted. I found myself walking beside one of my closes friend yet the air felt so thorny. I had felt the air changed earlier in the morning where she didn't talk to me this morning. She might have actually read my mind or so I thought. She started saying stuff how much she likes *him.* It appears that she liked him for nine months already, quite a long time if you ask me, and to her dismay nothing had happened yet. Hearing all her thoughts triggered my guilty conscience. I did thought of myself becoming his. I imagined myself to be his only girl except for that moment where my friend described him the way just like the way I did from one of my post (from this blog) made me feel penitent straight away. It felt like my friend and I had the same eyes looking upon him, only she can't see mine. I felt heavyhearted and ignominious. Clearly, my friend adores him and cares for him in some way. Well, again, what I can say, who wouldn't feel like so? He's just so perfect. He's supreme. A classic Disney dashing Prince Charming. I can't even properly define him. Anyways, with that point testified, there's just one blemish on him. He doesn't like girls. Period.  Why would someone so immaculate take no interest in the opposite sex? It just doesn't sum up. Or maybe he's just too dense to feel the emotions that is alotted especially for him. I feel sorry for my friend. And for my heart too, I guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-4644666134667563888?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/4644666134667563888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=4644666134667563888&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/4644666134667563888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/4644666134667563888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/09/girlfriends-understand.html' title='Girlfriends Understand'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-2432444721365644232</id><published>2009-09-13T22:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T22:43:45.982-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Choice</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;"Would I rather stay with my old friends or stay where I am right now?"&lt;/blockquote&gt;Its so wonderful how I sometimes catch myself off-guard with these kind of questions. I did asked myself this question a million times already but today I envisioned that this question  can not be answer as simple as other questions are. If I was asked this question last year I assume that I would choose the first option flat straight. Given the circumstances that I have right now, surprisingly, my answer has changed. If I stayed in the Philippines with my life long friends, I would have enjoyed the beauty of the typical Filipino high school days filled with the dramas, love triangles, school competitions. However, IF I did not ever sat foot in Canada, I would have never met this insanely unique individuals that I regard as friends or acquaintances. But then again, I would have never ever be able to choose between choices seeing rewinding the past IS beyond the bounds of possibility. Even though the fiction writers claims that we can go back in the former times, I, being conquered by my logical and scientific mind concludes that time travelers does not exist. Therefore, &lt;del&gt;I,&lt;/del&gt; I meant no one, can go turn back pace even if you do want it or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-2432444721365644232?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/2432444721365644232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=2432444721365644232&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2432444721365644232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2432444721365644232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/09/choice.html' title='Choice'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-6762637015865750425</id><published>2009-09-13T22:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T22:18:07.542-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>Its been 2 years yet I still feel sorrow pierced and luring in my heart. Its so depressing to see that this diary is filled with negative emotions such as despair and hatred. Becoming a heartless monster has never been my dream but I've been under my own destructive shadow for so long. I'm dreading to see the light even though my wings feels so heavy and broken. I wish I can stay and hide inside the box where no one can see me. I wish I can stay inside limitless enough where I can wake up from a dream and start as a new person again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-6762637015865750425?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/6762637015865750425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=6762637015865750425&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6762637015865750425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6762637015865750425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/09/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-6125131818322015086</id><published>2009-09-08T15:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T16:46:37.815-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Yet another one</title><content type='html'>It was an odd first day of school. We went to school at 12:20-ish. (Classes started at 12:50.) This one tops my best first day list. It's the best one so far, in Canada at least. I don't count my first day's in school from the Philippines, since I barely remember them anymore. I met my friends, my "nerd herd" (thats what I call them) near our locker area. I missed them so much even though I saw them like just a few days ago. To my amazement, they all liked my new haircut and hair color. I spent exactly $80(P 3200). Its quite a lot, I know, but their compliments are so much worth it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i30.tinypic.com/2dv7ehh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://i30.tinypic.com/2dv7ehh.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;New Agenda, definitly not lovin' the color. Yellow? Come on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.tinypic.com/o9qohd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://i32.tinypic.com/o9qohd.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My pencil case. Lovin it. Handy and Light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i32.tinypic.com/o9qohd.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i25.tinypic.com/2dhs61c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://i25.tinypic.com/2dhs61c.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hilroy Binders, definitely diggin' it. costs like $8 each!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I cant find my schedule right now so I cant post it here. But lemme tell you, its a bloody one. Its only the first week of school year, yet it feels like the busiest week of the semester. Needless to say, I'm already bleeding. I have:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem 1:&lt;br /&gt;Physics&lt;br /&gt;Accounting&lt;br /&gt;Anthropology&lt;br /&gt;Biology&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem 2&lt;br /&gt;Chemistry&lt;br /&gt;Math&lt;br /&gt;English&lt;br /&gt;Law&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My schedule is pretty balance I guess. But still. And also, my teachers all talks like they're being  chase by maniac enmity of some kind.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Buti sana kung English first language ko.&lt;/span&gt; *Faints.* I need all the help that I could get. AJA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-6125131818322015086?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/6125131818322015086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=6125131818322015086&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6125131818322015086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6125131818322015086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/09/yet-another-one.html' title='Yet another one'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i30.tinypic.com/2dv7ehh_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-9207637316612228842</id><published>2009-08-31T23:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T15:59:35.565-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer-end Survey</title><content type='html'>Last Day of Summer&lt;br /&gt;August 31!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------- Have You -------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a boyfriend : No&lt;br /&gt;Had your birthday: No&lt;br /&gt;Had someone close to you pass away: No! Thank God for that.&lt;br /&gt;Pulled an all nighter: yes. It WAS fun&lt;br /&gt;Drank Tim Horton Soup: No. EEw.&lt;br /&gt;Gone to the movies: obviously&lt;br /&gt;Who was it with : My rents.&lt;br /&gt;Been to the beach: beach-like place, Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Met someone new: For like a day. (Steven)&lt;br /&gt;Been out of your home town: No :(&lt;br /&gt;Done something crazy: What kind of crazyness&lt;br /&gt;Thought about moving: Moving to where? School? Yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------- In The Past Month -------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slept in someone else's bed: no&lt;br /&gt;Snuck out of your own house: no&lt;br /&gt;Been to a bar: no&lt;br /&gt;Been Bullied: by my family&lt;br /&gt;Drove somewhere: no&lt;br /&gt;Done something you regret: I guess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------- Last -------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Person you hugged: my cat&lt;br /&gt;Person to call you: Uhm Deena I think&lt;br /&gt;Person who messaged you: Queena ?&lt;br /&gt;Time you took a bubble bath: I dont, anymore&lt;br /&gt;Time you felt stupid: everytime&lt;br /&gt;Time you walked a mile: Amanda's birthday party &gt;.&lt; ! Person who saw you cry: idk Person who made you cry: no one Person you yelled at: ehh Song you listened to: am i suppose to remember everything? Thing you did yesterday: Slept for like 13 hours  1) Can you take this without deleting any questions? I already deleted one  2) What's going on between you and the last person you kissed? Huh.  3) What was your worst mistake in your life? worst one? every mistake is a mistake.  4) Would you get back with your last ex if they asked you? I dont know? NOT gonna happen. Duh.  5) What's something you really want right now, be honest: Shop for make up.  6) Last time you had butterflies in your stomach? Never had that.  7) Does anything on your body hurt right now? None at the moment  8) Who was the last person to disappoint you? My sister.  9) Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Define deep. Probably my rents or Fang shen and Deena.  10) What are you listening to? Wtf. I said Im not listening to my iPod right now  11) Whats a quote from a song that you are listening to? Idk.  12) Have you ever punched a hole in a wall? No. That would hurt.  13) Do you know someone in jail? Yes.  14) What about in DGA? Eh ?  15) Where were you at 2:00am? My room. Tryin to sleep   16) Who did you copy this from? Amanda Volstad  17) How do you know them? School :)  18) Do you wear glasses? Yeah, since K2 ?  19) Anywhere you'd rather be right now? Mall  20) Are you going anywhere for the next summer? Im hoping to go to Zyra's place since our plans were cancelled for this summer.  21) Do you have plans today? yes  22) Waiting for someone to call? not really  23) Will you call them if they don't call? Ima call Queena, maybe  24) What's a fact about the last person who had their arms around you? Eh? That would probably be Kaitlyn in Amanda's bday party. Fact about her? She dies her hair like kazillion times already.! &gt;.&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25) Where did you get the shirt you are wearing?&lt;br /&gt;Sirens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26) Could you go a day without eating?&lt;br /&gt;Yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27) Do you know anyone that smokes weed?&lt;br /&gt;I can only guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28) How was your day today?&lt;br /&gt;Nothin' major happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29) Have you ever kissed a stranger? If so, how did it happen?&lt;br /&gt;NO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30) Do your parents force you to go to church or let you make the decision?&lt;br /&gt;I make my own decision, thank you very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31) When it comes to the opposite sex what is your type?&lt;br /&gt;Preferably good-looking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34) Can you do splits?&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36) Whats for dinner tonight?&lt;br /&gt;Beef&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37) Do any of your ex's miss you?&lt;br /&gt;How would I know?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38) Does anyone love you?&lt;br /&gt;I can only hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39) How has the week been?&lt;br /&gt;Great. Hang-out with my nerd herd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41) Do you curse in front of your parents?&lt;br /&gt;Uhh. I dont curse excessively but Im sure they have heard me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42) Are you slowly drifting away from someone?&lt;br /&gt;Yeah. Im distancing myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43) What girl/boy can you tell everything to?&lt;br /&gt;I'd wouldn't put all my apples in one basket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44) Have you ever kissed anyone who's name started with an A?&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, obviously no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45) What do you look for in a relationship?&lt;br /&gt;Sincerity and loyalty counts in my books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46) When a friend walks out of your life, do you go after them or let them go&lt;br /&gt;If they're really are my friend, they wouldn't purposely walk out of my life now would they?&lt;br /&gt;And anyways this question doesn't matter because I'm the one who usually does that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47) Have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?&lt;br /&gt;Ehh. When I was young, yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48) Do you still talk to the last person you kissed?&lt;br /&gt;Huh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49) Does anyone hate you?&lt;br /&gt;Idk. Hope not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50) Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?&lt;br /&gt;Depends on the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51) Have you ever seen your best friend cry?&lt;br /&gt;I dont know who I consider as a bestfriend anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52) Do you dance in the car?&lt;br /&gt;Why in the world would I want to do that. I AIR-GUITAR!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-9207637316612228842?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/9207637316612228842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=9207637316612228842&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/9207637316612228842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/9207637316612228842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/08/last-day-of-summer-august-31-have-you.html' title='Summer-end Survey'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-6696972425558025340</id><published>2009-08-31T22:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T15:58:12.447-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer-end</title><content type='html'>Holy Sheezy. Summer time has gone as fastly as you can say fun. It may sounds so cliche but the heavenly bliss amount of relaxation awarded to students was gone in a blink of an eye. I, apparently, didn't blogged any of my summer experiences which was mostly spent pulling an all-nighter, reading manga/s, having fun in the park, swimming and mostly volunteering. This summer is way better than 2008's. I also realized that being passive, lonely and  lazy doesn't do me any justice. Its like hosing down a sizzling fire. I was drowning myself to infinite somber. Though its true that I find peace infront of my laptop, moving makes me feel like I'm in ecstasy. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, September 1st, is my first day of school (grade 11) btw!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-6696972425558025340?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/6696972425558025340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=6696972425558025340&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6696972425558025340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6696972425558025340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/09/summer-end.html' title='Summer-end'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-6075973583121539512</id><published>2009-06-08T20:04:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T20:46:30.300-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Syndrome</title><content type='html'>I am so clueless on what’s been happening to me right now. Hello? Anyone. Feel free to knock me over. Okay? Please &lt;b&gt;wake&lt;/b&gt; me up. For some reason I always had a crush(?) on a guy that I just met for the first time. An infatuation? Blergh! Remember the Spanish kid that I said &lt;del&gt;I liked?&lt;/del&gt; Well, it turned out that he’s a umm. not that inspiring, no offense. Well the thing is, he’s always late and absent im class. Who would like a guy like that?&lt;br /&gt;"Reading back my old posts about him, makes me wanna barf. Double blergh."&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, that’s not the point. This Sunday, I went to my friend’s Baptist Church and she introduced me to HER crush. I dont know. :S Its awkward and strange although I felt at ease and confident talking to him (not a &lt;b&gt;normal&lt;/b&gt; reaction that you'd get from me, seriously.) To be honest, he’s a cool guy, a religious one too. Plus he’s IN French Immersion (which means he’s smart.)  He’s a little bit “White”-washed, he doesn’t know how to speak in he’s mother tongue-Mandarin, but other than that, he’s ALL good. The only problem is, my friend likes him- WHOLEY a lot. I don’t think I have any right or in any position to like him at all. He’s pretty awesome, and this time, I really, really feel like he’s the right guy to fall for. He's no joke. I dont know.? I'm confused. It's too early to judge. Maybe I’m suffering from &lt;b&gt;L&lt;/b&gt;ike-&lt;b&gt;A&lt;/b&gt;t-&lt;b&gt;F&lt;/b&gt;irst-&lt;b&gt;S&lt;/b&gt;ight-&lt;b&gt;S&lt;/b&gt;yndrome all over again, who knows what’s happening to my mumble jumbled insides. Oh, what the heck. I’ll just see and relies on what destiny has on his plate for me. I hope it’s him but if he isn’t, it’s still all good. Or is it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-6075973583121539512?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/6075973583121539512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=6075973583121539512&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6075973583121539512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6075973583121539512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/06/syndrome.html' title='Syndrome'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-2870195312185562274</id><published>2009-05-11T15:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T15:58:02.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Accident Pic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/ShG9KeGMTCI/AAAAAAAAACM/FQ3WVVCZRoQ/s1600-h/1_808209412l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/ShG9KeGMTCI/AAAAAAAAACM/FQ3WVVCZRoQ/s320/1_808209412l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337255020986125346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/ShG9A1CwHnI/AAAAAAAAACE/c3myyfMff5g/s1600-h/1_246300174l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/ShG9A1CwHnI/AAAAAAAAACE/c3myyfMff5g/s320/1_246300174l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337254855347019378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****************************&lt;br /&gt;White box- Undamaged&lt;br /&gt;Red circle - Damaged&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't look really bad. I'm exaggerating. LOL:)&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/9152462153831475389-2870195312185562274?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/2870195312185562274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=2870195312185562274&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2870195312185562274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2870195312185562274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/05/accident-pic.html' title='Accident Pic'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/ShG9KeGMTCI/AAAAAAAAACM/FQ3WVVCZRoQ/s72-c/1_808209412l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-1054667117649467775</id><published>2009-05-10T17:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T20:39:45.210-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tulips Festival</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvW8BndnI/AAAAAAAAABU/3x8JkqW3E-E/s1600-h/1_460519285l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvW8BndnI/AAAAAAAAABU/3x8JkqW3E-E/s320/1_460519285l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334354723504354930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;(Gosh. I'm fugly)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvXIL_6yI/AAAAAAAAABs/4UxHwZT10Uc/s1600-h/1_992180539l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvXIL_6yI/AAAAAAAAABs/4UxHwZT10Uc/s320/1_992180539l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334354726769126178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255); font-style: italic;"&gt;So beautiful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvHEk0adI/AAAAAAAAABE/rIMU7LuipQ4/s1600-h/1_470023254l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 234px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvHEk0adI/AAAAAAAAABE/rIMU7LuipQ4/s320/1_470023254l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334354450921581010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvW-2RMuI/AAAAAAAAABM/XG_NT8vCzj4/s1600-h/1_445375444l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 244px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvW-2RMuI/AAAAAAAAABM/XG_NT8vCzj4/s320/1_445375444l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334354724262064866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;My sister and her future boyfriend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 255, 153);"&gt;(even if she denies it)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvXCzSp3I/AAAAAAAAABk/dNetHNxFsWQ/s1600-h/1_953688351l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 318px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvXCzSp3I/AAAAAAAAABk/dNetHNxFsWQ/s320/1_953688351l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334354725323319154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204); font-style: italic;"&gt;My Dad and I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvXOv9ItI/AAAAAAAAABc/25UgZc65M70/s1600-h/1_818779211l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvXOv9ItI/AAAAAAAAABc/25UgZc65M70/s320/1_818779211l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334354728530551506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdxFqe1XFI/AAAAAAAAAB0/MNthj8pXlhw/s1600-h/1_915709627l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 305px; height: 198px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdxFqe1XFI/AAAAAAAAAB0/MNthj8pXlhw/s320/1_915709627l.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334356625760541778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah. That's how we celebrate Mother's Day, ~ by going at the Tulip Festival. The tulips were absolutely stunning. They beat roses to me since they don't have any torn which can give you blisters and whatnot. There was a fair too, but we didn't go there at all since my mom has to work. She said we would go there next weekend though. Oh how I wish, we will. I've never ever ridden a Ferriswheel before.! (I'm too scared that I'd puke from the air.) The site gave cold breeze. As much as I love the lonely frosted snow, seeing flowers in such rich colors in full bloom makes me wish that winter shouldn't come at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-1054667117649467775?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/1054667117649467775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=1054667117649467775&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/1054667117649467775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/1054667117649467775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/05/tulips-festival.html' title='Tulips Festival'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SgdvW8BndnI/AAAAAAAAABU/3x8JkqW3E-E/s72-c/1_460519285l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-5916028653161249614</id><published>2009-05-03T19:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T20:11:20.254-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Aftershock</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/Sgds8wqgrQI/AAAAAAAAAA8/A_wiA92kgrs/s1600-h/Stop_Sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 158px; height: 206px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/Sgds8wqgrQI/AAAAAAAAAA8/A_wiA92kgrs/s320/Stop_Sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334352074754796802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I must admit that after car accident, or should I say VERY first accident ever (I never had one from the Philippines since my sister and I were over protected by my dad), I had some not so pretty nightmares. The events that took place after the car wreck kept on flashing and repeating on my mind which made me sweat on a silent week night. I can barely think for atleast three days. I missed two days of my classes too. I had to catch up with whatever work they did. The incident stayed quiet though. Only 2 of my teachers knew about it and not a single one of my friends ever heard  the horrible story. It was a really good thing that no one is paying attention or interest to me. I think that reciting my tale over and over again might get extremely boring and tiring. I might not have the evidence to show you, my point here is straight. Driving is a serious business no matter how small the vehicle that you're using. In addition, I would like to quote Alastair Moody &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;"Constant Vigilance"&lt;/span&gt; In case you don't know, that means, "Learn from my mistakes". One thing could led to another. Just look at what happened to us. The accident happened like approximately 10 seconds and it affected my life like a whole lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;PS. Did I mention that we don't have a service car right now?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-5916028653161249614?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/5916028653161249614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=5916028653161249614&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/5916028653161249614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/5916028653161249614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/05/aftershock.html' title='Aftershock'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/Sgds8wqgrQI/AAAAAAAAAA8/A_wiA92kgrs/s72-c/Stop_Sign.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-1765722888560672837</id><published>2009-04-26T19:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T21:06:39.191-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Car Accident :/</title><content type='html'>OMG to the max. We were in a freaking car accident. It was ridiculous. Extremely bad luck. We're suppose to go in a kids party but we were "nadisgraciya" instead.  Its so not cool and its not even funny. Thankfully, nothing happened to me and to my family. I didn't even &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;bleed&lt;/span&gt;, nor did the rest. Damn, we were lucky. Super. If my mom did made one wrong decision, I'd be haunting that place right now. Five seconds of my memory is &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"&gt;missing&lt;/span&gt;, I believe. My mom said that she evaded the car but I dont think she did, I dont know. All I can really remember was when I saw the white mouth of the car bumped us straight. I was dang sure I'll be dead or like blood soaked but I wasn't. Thank GOD a million times. To tell you the truth, I was more scared to carry and bear the scars than to actually die. Coz for me dying is like the eternal heaven and earth right now, is my living personal hell :/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-1765722888560672837?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/1765722888560672837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=1765722888560672837&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/1765722888560672837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/1765722888560672837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/04/car-accident.html' title='Car Accident :/'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-6908401255903470008</id><published>2009-04-19T01:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T01:44:29.652-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Crossing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Dusk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;t was surprisingly dull in the light of a cloudless sky. The tropical birds are fleeting towards their home made of twigs, ready to meet their offspring remotely estranged because of the long rise of the sun. Despite the palpable setting of the day, she, together with her friends and classmates are playing like it was the beginning of daybreak. It was amazing, almost impossible to see that she was displaying the most radiant smile she could ever manage. She was enacting like nothing could ever go wrong and nothing has been wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Damsel Far In Distress&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;he took a deep breath and sighed. She was still wearing her white school uniform, with her pleated skirt. together with her pair of fading socks and leather shoes, Her navy blue neck tie, same colored as her skirt, keeps on slapping the side of her face. she looks like a typical girl-next-door yet provincial-teenage-kid. She has an average look complements to her mixed ancestral descent. Her skin complexion is fairly fair meaning she doesn't possess a sun-kissed skin that most Hispanic girls has. However, she knows that she's not fair enough to be compared to a porcelain doll -although she wish she does. She also deem herself lucky for she didn't had a face full of zits, blackheads and whatnot that most early teenagers are having caused by uncontrollable puberty. Her eyebrows are curved in unnecessary arch giving her a snob look. She has slant-ier eyes for her race, even though her genes are never merged with Chinese blood. She has full lips, though not plumpy. She's almost contented with her looks. Almost. Few, if not no one, ever knows that she despises her nose. Her nostrils are too flared and her nose bridge is too low giving her, what she considers as a "pig" snuffer. Unfortunately, she perceives that she can't do anything about 'it' ,so might as well accept 'it' and leave 'it' alone. No one notices 'it' anyway, and if someone does, they know better than to tease her. It's either to annoy her about it or live your high school social life like hell. Of course, as any rational animal would do, they choose the former than the latter. She's often moody, but everyone knows that everyone loves her, or likes her at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Riot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;he paused from their sport, and to her amusement she found herself laughing, partly because of her childish classmates, but mostly because of their invented game isn't working well, as they thought that it would. Most of them considered it as a more intricate form of the game "tag" . The modified instructions are to stay in a rectangular shape, avoiding all the "ITs" of the opposing group and when you got caught, the group has to move counter-clockwise. By the time she impeded her thought of hilarity, she realized that she had been caught by one of the ITs, earlier at the game, and she did not move to the west as she was opposed to, so she continued laughing to herself. The complications of the weird sport made her classmates to not notice her mistake. She took a second and gazed at the dark steel blue sky and patted her hair away from her profile. Her friends are getting carried by the tension of the game. She skipped semi-gracefully and went at the backside of one of her best-friends to whom she noticed is starting to revolt. She grabbed her friend and loosely hugged her. She knew that by doing so, her friend will ease up. Her friend, however, remained slightly edgy, but stayed composed. They whispered to each other and laughed and continued to play the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Predator&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"H&lt;/span&gt;ow naive and stupid can she get?" She thought to herself located behind a tree, hidden from the group of teenagers playing a uncommon sweaty game. She was looking at a scene that mostly could occur from her past. She was repulsed and somehow flabbergast at how young and how hyper her fourteen year old self is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How long is two years could possibly be?" she thought again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The resemblances between them are bright and clear yet anyone could tell that they're completely different, both inside and out. She was juvenile, happy and alive while she, on the other hand, is torpid, timid and freakishly dull and dead. She was fighting to bury her emotions, ashamed she might cry a river anytime soon, but there's seemingly no need for feeling remorseful her tears never even tried to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Which One?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;he continued to watch her old self, who's now, rubbing her forehead. Part of her dreamed that she could see and touch her forgotten self, and possibly feel how she's feeling right now one way or another. She also wanted to see her old friends up-close - the drifters whom she developed a very secure and open relationship with. The divergent self of her, nevertheless, is too frightened to let her own individual to see how stupid and frivolous she had become. "Strange," she apprehend, just a second ago, she was calling 'her' stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;A Doppelganger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;er old self found her future self unknowingly. She didn't recognize her, or maybe she does but her logic does not admit what she's seeing. Both of them stood silent, both hair swaying from the opposite side of their faces. It was devastating and magical to watch. When both of them realize what the other is doing, the other did nothing. As she predicted, her future self has started to weep silently, while the other, pretends to follow. The old self nodded once, like she knew, like she understands what the other is feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Like the Wind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;hen the future self decided to touch the old self, a large bright consciousness came, both of them and mutually with the twilight disappeared thus REALITY forged itself ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I &lt;/span&gt;opened my eyes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-6908401255903470008?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/6908401255903470008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=6908401255903470008&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6908401255903470008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6908401255903470008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/04/crossing_18.html' title='The Crossing'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-6532913094334909942</id><published>2009-03-17T22:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T22:42:45.511-04:00</updated><title type='text'>He's Gay?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;img style="width: 205px; height: 274px;" src="http://i39.tinypic.com/2rm14p1.jpg" align="right" /&gt;Okay. Slightly big discovery today, So, you guys know, Adam Lambert guy from the current American Idol season, right? Well, uhm, I found some pics on the net about that confirmed some of my suspicions about his sexuality. Yeah. I think he's gay. Bummer. He's just so cute. Oh well. Don't get me wrong though, I perfectly don't have anything against bi or homo people.  I still think he's sexy fine, and I know that most of his fans agree's with me as well. Adam Lambert all the way man, even though his latest performance, kinda creeped me out. Lol. Still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;ADAM LAMBERT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;ADAM LAMBERT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ADAM LAMBERT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out this vid. Man, he's so cute:) Love him! &lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BjCjciG6Lxg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BjCjciG6Lxg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Found it at &lt;a href="http://ariezhilton.blogspot.com/"&gt;ariez hilton diary&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://ariezhilton.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-6532913094334909942?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/6532913094334909942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=6532913094334909942&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6532913094334909942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6532913094334909942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/03/hes-gay.html' title='He&apos;s Gay?!'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i39.tinypic.com/2rm14p1_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-1714216703607731621</id><published>2009-03-14T14:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T15:09:55.879-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Shopaholic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.moviehole.net/img/islaconfessions.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't read if you haven't seen the movie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Seen the movie weeks ago and read the whole series early 2008, so I must admit that the anticipation of seeing the movie made me feel ecstatic. Well, it was an okay movie, funny at some bits. There are too many changes though, and I think they gave more emphasis about Rebecca's debt than her being a &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Shopaholic&lt;/span&gt;.  And, in my dismay Tarquin didn't portrayed his character. It's really different compared to the book, but its still worth the watch:) On the plus side they gave Becky a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;style&lt;/span&gt; on her own.  It's a chick flick, comedy and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fashion&lt;/span&gt; rolled into 1.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-1714216703607731621?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/1714216703607731621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=1714216703607731621&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/1714216703607731621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/1714216703607731621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/03/confessions-of-shopaholic.html' title='Confessions of a Shopaholic'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-303165713340859513</id><published>2009-03-08T21:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T21:40:46.462-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sisi</title><content type='html'>Mangarap ka at abutin mo. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wag &lt;/span&gt;mong sisihin ang sira mong pamilya, palpak mong syota, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;pilay &lt;/span&gt;mong tuta, o mga lumilipad na ipis. Kung may pagkukulang sa’yo mga magulang mo, pwde kang manisi at maging rebelde. Tumigil ka sa pag-aaral, mag-asawa ka, mag-drugs ka, magpakulay ka ng buhok sa kili-kili. Sa banding huli, ikaw din ang biktima. Rebeldeng walang napatunayan at bait sa sarili.&lt;br /&gt;- Bob Ong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn! Sapul aku duon ah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-303165713340859513?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/303165713340859513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=303165713340859513&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/303165713340859513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/303165713340859513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/03/sisi.html' title='Sisi'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-5119353427423696134</id><published>2009-03-04T19:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T20:02:00.119-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='broken'/><title type='text'>Speechless</title><content type='html'>My fragile heart was hammered to pieces.&lt;br /&gt;Tears keep fallin'.&lt;br /&gt;Sobs and sighs keep hearin'&lt;br /&gt;Cant say much&lt;br /&gt;for I know that there's no one to blame.&lt;br /&gt;Thus, I won't be surprised&lt;br /&gt;if I'll never see my reflection&lt;br /&gt;smile again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-5119353427423696134?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/5119353427423696134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=5119353427423696134&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/5119353427423696134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/5119353427423696134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/03/speechless.html' title='Speechless'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-8235149102013525203</id><published>2009-02-28T20:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T21:31:34.762-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poser'/><title type='text'>Ima Break Yo Face</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I feel frustrated and sad right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My sister from anotha mother (aka bezzy) was crushing on &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mr.K&lt;/span&gt; ; Yours truly even did checked out his FS account. He's quite good-looking, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pati nga ako nagwagwapuhan sa kanya eh&lt;/span&gt;. I could tell that my bezzy had fallen for him. Kind of. (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Textmates&lt;/span&gt; sila eh). At ayun sa kanya, siya lang ang tinetextsan nun, yung iba kong trying hard na classmates hindi rinereplyan ni Mr.K &lt;/span&gt;I'm like totally jealous of her, as I learned more about him. HELLo, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;bat dami niyang xota ako wala&lt;/span&gt;? Dont even ask about his other bfs, its a loooong story, so yeah. ayun. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;panay kwentu niya&lt;/span&gt; about Mr.K. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;UNTIL&lt;/span&gt;. now. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nalaman niya na&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;POSER&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pala&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yun. &lt;/span&gt;Its so wrong. It appears that, the picture that he's using is not him at all.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Pin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;aasa lang niya &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ung bezz ko &lt;/span&gt;and its effin retarded. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Makita ko lang yun, hay nakuuuu! &lt;/span&gt;My mom was right.(Pinakita ko kasi yung picture eh), my mom said that he's either &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;manloloko, &lt;/span&gt;or to good to be true for my bezz. I really feel sorry for my bez, I dont think she had done something wrong to deserve this. Its the sickest thing in the world, knowing that some people dare to so such horrendous thing. They dont know how far their actions go, di nila alam na di lang yung taong linoloko nila ang naapektuhan. SO SICK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/Sant5g4hyyI/AAAAAAAAAA0/_dc39ADDIGs/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://i246.photobucket.com/albums/gg90/joyxelle/1-2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang mapanlilang na letrato.&lt;br /&gt;Kayu, kilala niyo kung sino ba talaga to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-8235149102013525203?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/8235149102013525203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=8235149102013525203&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/8235149102013525203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/8235149102013525203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/ima-break-yo-face.html' title='Ima Break Yo Face'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-4919402462414653859</id><published>2009-02-27T21:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T21:53:37.540-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='colorgenics'/><title type='text'>Shocking!</title><content type='html'>I've seen this on &lt;a href="http://www.sarcasticempress.blogspot.com/"&gt;Angel's&lt;/a&gt; kawaii blog, so I tried it out. Boy, was I shocked.!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;       &lt;p&gt;         &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You want to be regarded as an &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;exiting and interesting personality&lt;/span&gt; able to persuade others to comply with your beliefs and ideas. You are charming and able to influence other people who come into your sphere of influence. You like mental stimulation and you are the sort of person who is prepared to 'try anything once'. Your confidence is so much so that others are often swept away by your enthusiasm.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;You are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;totally dissatisfied with your present situation.&lt;/span&gt; Matters are not going right for you and you are seeking a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;means of escape&lt;/span&gt;. Your mental state of mind necessitates that you need to change your thinking patterns. Remember, if one particular modus operandi doesn't seem to work, then try something different.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;At times one is burdened with more than one's fair share of problems and this would appear to be your situation at present. But you are adamant - &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you know what you wish to achieve&lt;/span&gt; - and by giving a little and taking a little you may well find that the realization of your dreams could become a reality.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;You feel that&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; nobody&lt;/span&gt; really appreciates you and this is causing you considerable &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;stress&lt;/span&gt;. You feel that you have to sublimate your emotions and this is depressing you no end. You feel that the only way you can resolve this untenable situation is to get away from it all and re-establish your own individuality. Co-operation is very important in your life, but this has not been forthcoming from anyone. No-one seems to care and it is because of this situation that you are finding it&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; increasingly more difficult to let yourself go&lt;/span&gt; and as a result you are becoming more and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;more isolated&lt;/span&gt; and even, to some extent, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;introverted&lt;/span&gt;. You are displaying a touchy and an&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; over sensitive personality&lt;/span&gt;. Trying to take on the whole world doesn't help - you need to relax.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Resentment and stress, due to your present circumstances and/or your unfulfilled emotional needs, have produced considerable anxieties. You would like to get away from it all to somewhere that could be the personification of sympathy and understanding. That 'somewhere' could be close by: relax and let go - take a deep breath and look around - the situation may not be as bad as it seems.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-!!The only thing that doesn't seem right in here is the over confidence thing. That is sssoo not right, seriously. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Noon siguro, pero ngayun?&lt;/span&gt; nahhh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-4919402462414653859?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/4919402462414653859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=4919402462414653859&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/4919402462414653859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/4919402462414653859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/shocking.html' title='Shocking!'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-3540408380201253861</id><published>2009-02-18T22:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T23:05:00.841-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday Blues</title><content type='html'>Last Wednesday and today (surprisingly another &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wednesday&lt;/span&gt;-again) was excruciatingly painful. After checking  myself in the mirror, (looking for evident imperfection that needs to be fixed,) I rushed off going into our Science classroom. As I've arrived, I scanned the room for that semi angelic face of his. "Darn, he's not here yet. Guess, I have to wait," I thought. I've waited for like, five &lt;s&gt;hours&lt;/s&gt; minutes and he's still hasnt arrived. I'm growing more tense as the time goes by. We only have quarter amount of period of class time left, and he's still not around. I'm beginning to miss and think of his weird yet lovable Mexican accent. The bell rang and I'm still waiting, but it appears to be that there are no signs of him. *Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-3540408380201253861?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/3540408380201253861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=3540408380201253861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/3540408380201253861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/3540408380201253861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/wednesday-blues.html' title='Wednesday Blues'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-5155464214811003792</id><published>2009-02-18T21:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T22:14:19.051-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yikes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Firstly, I wanna sincerely apologize for my immature attitude regarding this blog. Im pretty sure that my angst has been revealed way too much for this past days. I wouldnt make excuses (i.e Im too busy, Im too stressed.) for my rude mind set. Again. Im sorry. PS. Im feeling much better now, now that my blog has been fixed and  Im feeling the urge to delete all my &lt;del&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;procrastination and whiny entries&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/del&gt;(And I think I will.) So much for that crap.&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/9152462153831475389-5155464214811003792?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/5155464214811003792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=5155464214811003792&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/5155464214811003792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/5155464214811003792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-sorry.html' title='Yikes'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-7848499825844468102</id><published>2009-02-17T16:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T22:16:18.138-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dark'/><title type='text'>Quick Update</title><content type='html'>Ima change my layout to a darker one inorder for my blog to match up my shaded mind and aphotic emotions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-7848499825844468102?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/7848499825844468102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=7848499825844468102&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/7848499825844468102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/7848499825844468102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/under-construction.html' title='Quick Update'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-1791586463236038475</id><published>2009-02-09T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T22:05:16.744-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bleeding Death</title><content type='html'>Oh my goodness. It's just the beginning of the second week of the second semester and I'm bleeding already! Floods of homework, tons of due date. Gawd! Can someone help me? Help! I cant even write OK-entries. Too busy. Im dying and bleeding too much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-1791586463236038475?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/1791586463236038475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=1791586463236038475&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/1791586463236038475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/1791586463236038475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/bleeding-death.html' title='Bleeding Death'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-6876840262474187530</id><published>2009-02-07T19:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T23:38:59.323-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ang d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;aming nagpasalam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;at sakin &lt;/span&gt; for this week. Why? Coz they've received the box of chocolates I've sent them. Thank you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;o, salamat doon.&lt;/span&gt; True, I feel cheated, in a way. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bakit nanaman?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Panu sila hindi naman nakakaalala&lt;/span&gt; if it wasn't for that. Parasites? Hey! Careful Jesxe, strong word &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yan&lt;/span&gt;. Not sure. Well, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;anu man lang ang isang&lt;/span&gt; letter &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;man lang sana&lt;/span&gt; for me.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Magkanu lang naman pagpadala ng sulat eh&lt;/span&gt;? P20? Hm. Anyways, besides from my rants. I'm still happy that they're happy.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wala kong &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;agagawa, dapat makuntento&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; na&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; sa salamat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jpHOYmIbRtI/SY74POwbB8I/AAAAAAAAAAk/YvoakOt7mJ0/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-6876840262474187530?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/6876840262474187530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=6876840262474187530&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6876840262474187530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6876840262474187530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/thanks.html' title='Thanks.'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-6703874159606355622</id><published>2009-02-06T10:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T10:09:11.315-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Flood</title><content type='html'>Dang. Too many home work. I can't blog much.&lt;br /&gt;My blog is already dyin, NoOOO!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9152462153831475389-6703874159606355622?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/6703874159606355622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=6703874159606355622&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6703874159606355622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6703874159606355622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/flood.html' title='Flood'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-6677594682178716509</id><published>2009-02-03T21:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T22:27:06.344-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Early Valentine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;    2nd day. (not bad as I imagined that it would be.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;    I never noticed him yesterday for my eyes never left the floor. I am, as usual, is on my routine of hiding my face.  I never knew him. As I've said, I hardly know anyone in this class. I don't recall him from any of my classes, nor from seeing him, around the school. The seating plan said that his name was Rafael. Ah. He was named after an Angel. Well then, I'll call him Angel. Wait, could I trust it? Can I trust that dang projector? Whatever. Im loving that name already. I wanted to talk to him even though I know myself way too much to believe no such daring moves could be made. I told myself to stop. You'll just end up getting hurt, not to mention ignored, I thought.  How many pathetic fishes have caught my shallow attention from the past year alone? 3? 4? 7? Nah. I lost count. I don't even want to remember my silly naive girl that I was. An attention seeking, affection craver that I am. Oh whatever. It's a little too late now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Oh Cupid, how could you stick an arrow on my heart and not on his?&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/9152462153831475389-6677594682178716509?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/6677594682178716509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=6677594682178716509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6677594682178716509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/6677594682178716509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/early-valentine.html' title='Early Valentine'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-2269046638187833609</id><published>2009-02-02T20:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T21:00:16.452-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't you just love beginnings?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i246.photobucket.com/albums/gg90/joyxelle/1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 50px; height: 50px;" src="http://i246.photobucket.com/albums/gg90/joyxelle/1.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I do!&lt;br /&gt;'kay today was the start of my second semester and here's a brief description of my class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Civics and Careers&lt;br /&gt;- I like the teacher, BUT. I don't like my totally foolish and childish classmates. Oh, you think I'm being judgmental? H to the ELL no. They talk every single minute. for goodness sake It's like every single one of them appeared to my class. I'm talking about the "cool", "popular" guys at my school. Sure, they maybe charming or cute but our teacher will surely have a fit. I'll be taking a bet on how long she can stand with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Science&lt;br /&gt;- Fairly fine. Teacher's so-so. I recognized some familiar faces around the room but I don't see any of my friends at all. Well, guess, I have to survive this course, alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tech&lt;br /&gt;- I like the teacher, a lot. She's so nice. I like this class a lot too. Even though, I have a lot of friends with me in this class, I would love to work individually in this course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arts&lt;br /&gt;- My love. A course that requires patience and perseverance(virtues that I lack of), but this course is just pure love, so there's no chance that I'll say hateful stuff's in this one. If only, I have the same passion with Math.*Sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The cherry on top of the start of my the start of my sem?&lt;br /&gt;All of my teachers belongs to the female specie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Simula nung grade 2 ako, may lalake na kung teacher eh),&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so this really excites me.&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck!&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/9152462153831475389-2269046638187833609?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/2269046638187833609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=2269046638187833609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2269046638187833609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2269046638187833609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/dont-you-just-love-beginnings.html' title='Don&apos;t you just love beginnings?'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-1371800839235499959</id><published>2009-02-02T03:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T21:07:01.781-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boy girl friend'/><title type='text'>In my friend, I find my second self</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Remember when I mentioned that I broke up with my bf? Well, guess what? Today was a matter of speaking-of-the-devil thing. (Except he isn't  devil, he's more like an angel.) I'm the bad one. So in any case, even though, it was the beginning of my second semester, next thing in the morning, I stayed up late(again).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's what happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I signed in and stayed logged in(on YM)&lt;br /&gt;2. He signed in&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(di man lang aku pinansin, kahit isang mura lang sana jan eh)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nag log-out xa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(INVI lang pla&lt;/span&gt; but ofcourse he doesn't know that I see people who only turns themselves invisible)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ayun. &lt;/span&gt;It was the most annoying feeling in my life. Knowing what he did was rather childish, I understand why he did, what he did. (Tongue-twister?) He does have the right to despise and hate me. I wouldn't dare to stop him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kung anu mang kaekekan ang nanyari, buti na lang, nag log-in ung elementary bez ko. Kasi kung hindi dahil sa kanya,&lt;/span&gt; I might over react again. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sandali lang kami nagchat at di niya alam kung ano yung nanyari&lt;/span&gt; but it did help to ease my mood. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So, in my opinion, whatever your heartache's is, nothing can make you smile again, like a girlfriend can.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ngek. di man lang nagrhyme yun? Yaan ko na nga.&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/9152462153831475389-1371800839235499959?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/1371800839235499959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=1371800839235499959&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/1371800839235499959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/1371800839235499959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/in-my-friend-i-find-my-second-self.html' title='In my friend, I find my second self'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-9220379175040948899</id><published>2009-02-01T15:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T21:03:03.723-05:00</updated><title type='text'>February</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I know. It is weird to begin a New Year's Resolution on the second month of the year. Hey! It's never too late to make one, right? Believe me, I wanted to make a list last month, but I was too busy -it was our EXAM month. Exams, summatives and Shakespeare got me. Thank heavens, it was all done though. Pheew! To make things straight, my new years resolution is to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Forget my old life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yep. That's right. I want to forget my life in the Philippines. Well not all of it, obviously. I just wanna move on and stop whining. I've been moping and killing myself since I've moved here in Canada. It wasn't pretty. There was a countless nights of tears. I drowned myself in cold depression. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Basang sisiw, ba?&lt;/span&gt; I was a pathetic loser. (Ndi ako Emo ha? Eew.)Thinking all about it, still makes me shudder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But whatever, you know? I'm fine now. I'm back my senses, hopefully. You'll never guess what I did to make a one selfish step closer to my goal. Up to now, I'm not sure if it was the right decision or not. It was either the stupidest or bravest thing I've ever done. With a ten SMS remaining on my cell, I broke up with my 1 year and 5 months LD best boyfriend I've ever had. &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/9152462153831475389-9220379175040948899?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/9220379175040948899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=9220379175040948899&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/9220379175040948899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/9220379175040948899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/february.html' title='February'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9152462153831475389.post-2596461519516400870</id><published>2009-02-01T09:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T21:25:49.052-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Official</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Yesss!&lt;/span&gt; Finally, a blog of my own. I've been wanting to make one ages ago but petty excuses keeps on stopping me. I had one, last year but, I've stop updating it. Laziness took it over. Anyways, so yeah. I've been doing this blog for like since Thursday. It took me a lot of time to finally put things all together. I must say that I was surprised how much time it cost me to do this one. I can only imagine how hard it must be to those people who've been blogging since forever. I hope I'll keep this one up till like I got married. Hah! Kidding. But yeah, seriously, I want to keep this one running as long as I could. Plus, I have to start looking for fellow Bloggers who are kind enough to exchange links and stuffs like that. Uhum. Jesse still have a very long way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh. Well. &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Jesxesparkle.blogspot.com&lt;/span&gt; is officially up and running baby! Yeah!&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/9152462153831475389-2596461519516400870?l=jesxesparkle.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/feeds/2596461519516400870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9152462153831475389&amp;postID=2596461519516400870&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2596461519516400870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9152462153831475389/posts/default/2596461519516400870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jesxesparkle.blogspot.com/2009/02/official.html' title='Official'/><author><name>icheerei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01259548555708738998</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
