<?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-19739986</id><updated>2011-08-29T03:56:32.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>gnommic and mantic</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113992066354319208</id><published>2006-02-14T04:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T04:37:43.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>contribute to my johari window?:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll visit yours when you make one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;click:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://kevan.org/johari?name=g%20r%20a%20c%20i%20e"&gt;http://kevan.org/johari?name=g%20r%20a%20c%20i%20e&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113992066354319208?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113992066354319208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113992066354319208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113992066354319208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113992066354319208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2006/02/contribute-to-my-johari-windowd-ill.html' title=''/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113768298644750660</id><published>2006-01-19T06:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T07:03:06.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When the Fashionista Hits the Fan</title><content type='html'>based on a true story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Abbey Ventura: kwento!&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: er&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: oncce upon a time..&lt;br /&gt;Abbey Ventura: tapos...&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: there was a whale&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: named ms pat&lt;br /&gt;Abbey Ventura: wahahaha&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: she was killed by a harpoon&lt;br /&gt;Abbey Ventura: what did d whale do?&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: she tried to eat an island&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: stupid whale&lt;br /&gt;Abbey Ventura: wat island?all by herself?&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: the island... of ac!&lt;br /&gt;Abbey Ventura: oh nooo!!!&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: but the lifeguards harpooned her!&lt;br /&gt;Abbey Ventura: gudthing!&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: BUT&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: she got reincarnated as... a SHARK!&lt;br /&gt;Abbey Ventura: but what?&lt;br /&gt;Abbey Ventura: oh no...something even worse!&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: but the lifeguards caught her again&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: and turned her into SHARKSFIN SOUP!&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: and we all lived&lt;br /&gt;Abbey Ventura: happily ever after&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: the end!&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: dedicated to anne silva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*names withheld to protect the identities of the authors&lt;br /&gt;*title c/o anne silva&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113768298644750660?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113768298644750660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113768298644750660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113768298644750660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113768298644750660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2006/01/when-fashionista-hits-fan.html' title='When the Fashionista Hits the Fan'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113768394315862566</id><published>2006-01-19T06:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T07:37:22.840-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TOP TEN FACTS ABOUT...</title><content type='html'>laughtrip... :D thanks anne!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thesurrealist.co.uk/trivia.pl"&gt;http://thesurrealist.co.uk/trivia.pl&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten Top Trivia Tips about Gracie!&lt;br /&gt;1. You should always store gracie in an airtight container in the fridge!  &lt;br /&gt;2. Fifty-two percent of Americans drink gracie.  &lt;br /&gt;3. A lump of gracie the size of a matchbox can be flattened into a sheet the size of a tennis court.  &lt;br /&gt;4. Olympic badminton rules say that gracie must have exactly fourteen feathers.  &lt;br /&gt;5. The word 'samba' means 'to rub gracie'!  &lt;br /&gt;6. Gracie has little need for water and is capable of going for months without drinking at all!  &lt;br /&gt;7. A bride should wear something old, something new, something borrowed, and gracie!  &lt;br /&gt;8. The pupil of an octopus's eye is shaped like gracie.  &lt;br /&gt;9. Gracie has often been found swimming miles from shore in the Indian Ocean. &lt;br /&gt;10. Gracie can give birth ten days after being born, and is born&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like number 4!!! and number 10 is... uhhhh... :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten Top Trivia Tips about Anne!&lt;br /&gt; 1. Anne can run sixty-five kilometres an hour - that's really fast.  &lt;br /&gt;2. Two thirds of the world's eggplant is grown in anne!  &lt;br /&gt;3. Cats use their anne to test whether a space is large enough for them to fit through!  &lt;br /&gt;4. Native Americans never actually ate anne; killing such a timid prey was thought to indicate laziness.  &lt;br /&gt;5. Anne can not regurgitate!  &lt;br /&gt;6. Devoid of his cells and proteins, anne has the same chemical makeup as sea water!  &lt;br /&gt;7. Anne became extinct in England in 1486. &lt;br /&gt; 8. Anne will give a higher yield if milked when listening to music!  &lt;br /&gt;9. The pharoahs of ancient Egypt wore garments made with thin threads of beaten anne! &lt;br /&gt;10. Peanuts and anne are beans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anne's is one of the best... :P&lt;br /&gt;2 - ew!&lt;br /&gt;7 - coool... parang mutant&lt;br /&gt;8 - MWAHAHAHAHA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten Top Trivia Tips about sabs!&lt;br /&gt;1. Sabs is the last letter of the Greek alphabet! &lt;br /&gt;2. You would have to dig through four thousand kilometres of sabs to reach the earth's core!  &lt;br /&gt;3. Finding sabs on Christmas morning is believed to bring good luck!  &lt;br /&gt;4. Donald Duck's middle name is sabs!  &lt;br /&gt;5. Sabs can be seen from space!  &lt;br /&gt;6. Research indicates that sabs will be attracted to people who have recently eaten bananas!  &lt;br /&gt;7. It is impossible to fold sabs more than seven times.  &lt;br /&gt;8. Americans discard enough sabs to rebuild their entire commercial air fleet every 3 months.  &lt;br /&gt;9. A sabsometer is used to measure sabs. &lt;br /&gt;10. It can take sabs several days to move just through one tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1- not very surprising :P... 6 - keep away from bananas!!! i like 4 and 7 too... :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten Top Trivia Tips about Abbey!&lt;br /&gt;1. Oranges, lemons, watermelons, pineapples and abbey are all berries.  &lt;br /&gt;2. Every day in the UK, four people die putting abbey on.  &lt;br /&gt;3. Some people in Malaysia bathe their babies in beer to protect them from abbey.  &lt;br /&gt;4. According to the story, Pinocchio was made of abbey.  &lt;br /&gt;5. In Japan it is considered rude to talk with abbey in your mouth.  &lt;br /&gt;6. South Australia was the first place to allow abbey to stand for parliament!  &lt;br /&gt;7. The average human spends about 30 days during their life in abbey.  &lt;br /&gt;8. Abbey is physically incapable of sticking her tongue out!  &lt;br /&gt;9. The liquid inside abbey can be used as a substitute for blood plasma! &lt;br /&gt;10. Abbey was the first Tsar of Russia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bubbly_009: #2 of abbey's!&lt;br /&gt;bubbly_009: and 3!&lt;br /&gt;bubbly_009: AND 5!&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: 2 and 3!!!&lt;br /&gt;bubbly_009: AND 8!&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: and 10!!&lt;br /&gt;bubbly_009: i love abbey's!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten Top Trivia Tips about Ms Pat!&lt;br /&gt;1. Human beings are the only animals that copulate while facing Ms Pat.&lt;br /&gt;2. All swans in England belong to Ms Pat.&lt;br /&gt;3. Ms Pat cannot burp - there is no gravity to separate liquid from gas in her stomach.&lt;br /&gt;4. The Aztec Indians of Mexico believed Ms Pat would protect them from physical harm, and so warriors used her to decorate their battle shields.&lt;br /&gt;5. You should always open Ms Pat at least an hour before drinking her.&lt;br /&gt;6. Ms Pat became extinct in England in 1486!&lt;br /&gt;7. It takes a lobster approximately 7 years to grow to be Ms Pat.&lt;br /&gt;8. Ms Pat cannot jump!&lt;br /&gt;9. Half a cup of Ms Pat contains only seventeen calories!&lt;br /&gt;10. Ms Pat is picked, sorted and packed entirely in the field!&lt;br /&gt;BUTI NGA! 1, 3, 6,7,8,9!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 Top Trivia Tips about Mikki!&lt;br /&gt;   1. More people are killed by mikki each year than die in aeroplane accidents.  &lt;br /&gt;2. The Aztec Indians of Mexico believed mikki would protect them from physical harm, and so warriors used her to decorate their battle shields.  &lt;br /&gt;3. Plato believed that the souls of melancholy people would be reincarnated into mikki.  &lt;br /&gt;4. Mikki can fly at an average speed of fifteen kilometres an hour.  &lt;br /&gt;5. Twenty-eight percent of Microsoft's employees are mikki.  &lt;br /&gt;6. If you drop mikki from the top of the Empire State Building, she will be falling fast enough to kill before reaching the ground.  &lt;br /&gt;7. Mikki was first discovered by Alexander the Great in India, and introduced to Europe on his return.  &lt;br /&gt;8. Michelangelo finished his great statue of mikki in 1504&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... number 1!!! and 3 and 4  and 6 :/:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LAST NA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten Top Trivia Tips about Nenen!&lt;br /&gt;   1. Nenenomancy is the art of telling the future with nenen!  &lt;br /&gt;2. Ostriches stick their heads in nenen not to hide but to look for water.  &lt;br /&gt;3. Neil Armstrong first stepped on nenen with his left foot.  &lt;br /&gt;4. Nenen can be found on a Cluedo board between the Library and the Conservatory.  &lt;br /&gt;5. If you drop nenen from more than three metres above ground level, she will always land feet-first.  &lt;br /&gt;6. About one tenth of nenen is permanently covered in ice. &lt;br /&gt;7. If you put a drop of liquor on nenen, she will go mad and sting herself to death.  &lt;br /&gt;8. Nenen has three eyelids.  &lt;br /&gt;9. Originally, nenen could not fly. &lt;br /&gt;10. The military salute is a motion that evolved from medieval times, when knights in armour raised their visors to reveal nenen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; bubbly_009: #2 nenen!bubbly_009: #3  nenen!bubbly_009: #7 nenen!evilest_genius: #7 nenen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MIIIAAAA!!! why'd you have to show me yours???? :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten Top Trivia Tips about Airan!&lt;br /&gt;Devoid of her cells and proteins, airan has the same chemical makeup as sea water.&lt;br /&gt;If you cut airan in half and count the number of seeds inside, you will know how many children you are going to have!&lt;br /&gt;The first toy product ever advertised on television was Mr Airan Head!&lt;br /&gt;Airan can only be destroyed by intense heat, and is impermeable even to acid!&lt;br /&gt;Airan is the only one of the original Seven Wonders of the World that still survives!&lt;br /&gt;In her entire life, airan will produce only a twelfth of a teaspoon of honey.&lt;br /&gt;Airan once lost a Dolly Parton lookalike contest!&lt;br /&gt;Medieval knights put the skin of airan on their sword handles to improve the grip.&lt;br /&gt;A cluster of bananas is called a hand and consists of 10 to 20 bananas, which are individually known as airan!&lt;br /&gt;Airan cannot jump.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113768394315862566?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113768394315862566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113768394315862566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113768394315862566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113768394315862566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2006/01/top-ten-facts-about.html' title='TOP TEN FACTS ABOUT...'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113708896071709925</id><published>2006-01-12T09:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T10:02:40.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>facets syllabus</title><content type='html'>hello world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is 1:55 am, and being the irresponsible student i am, i have only just accomplished my third term facets syllabus (shhh! don't tell robin!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought i'd post because... (i'm online to email it to her) it only hit me now.  sure, i know we're going to graduate, that we're going to leave, but the weight of that finally came crashing down while i was polishing off the syllabus.  especially when i was doing the last session.  i realized i only have seven more meetings with my club, and the seventh is a good-bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the previous years, we've upheld some rituals in facets. this is the first year that they'll actually mean something to me...  every year i thank people, i give members awards, i watch as the editors pass on the torch... but they're all more or less empty actions to me.  i'll always have facets again next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's hard to describe what it's like to end an era.  i've been in facets since the beginning of high school, i've been club head for 3 years.  somehow, i haven't wrapped myself around the idea that i have to let the club go.  it won't be mine anymore.  no more editing, and leading prayers, and assigning activities, and "socializing," and "mentoring" - going around making helpful comments... sigh. it's hard to know that i won't be stepping back into that classroom and taking charge, and being with my writers. i hope i don't cry.  or i do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;teambuilding this year was the best. just a thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113708896071709925?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113708896071709925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113708896071709925' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113708896071709925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113708896071709925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2006/01/facets-syllabus.html' title='facets syllabus'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113673142879694477</id><published>2006-01-08T06:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T06:24:52.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The cryptic and the poet sat talking one day&lt;br /&gt;Neither could grasp what the other would say&lt;br /&gt;But sat they for hours at clever wordplay&lt;br /&gt;Understanding at heart, for that is their way&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113673142879694477?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113673142879694477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113673142879694477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113673142879694477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113673142879694477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2006/01/cryptic-and-poet-sat-talking-one-day.html' title=''/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113638209487215664</id><published>2006-01-04T05:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T05:42:46.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i want these :D</title><content type='html'>eeeeheeeheee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=1396&amp;cat=283"&gt;http://fredflare.com/customer/product.php?productid=1396&amp;amp;cat=283&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they're so cute!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the "check these out" are cute too :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113638209487215664?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113638209487215664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113638209487215664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113638209487215664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113638209487215664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-want-these-d.html' title='i want these :D'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113629394432608305</id><published>2006-01-03T05:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-03T05:12:24.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>long dove white gloves that reach to my elbows&lt;br /&gt;black velvet that swallows light&lt;br /&gt;the crimson of a rose with skin like a whisper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;olives and "a gold feather falling from the windows of chance"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe i'll make sense later&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113629394432608305?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113629394432608305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113629394432608305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113629394432608305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113629394432608305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2006/01/long-dove-white-gloves-that-reach-to.html' title=''/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113629204763729326</id><published>2006-01-03T04:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-03T04:40:47.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>***Your Birthdate: December 21***&lt;br /&gt;You're a restless rebel with an unpredictable nature.Bright but unbridled, you tend to seek out wild experiences over new ideas.People are frustrated by your great potential, but you love your unconventional life.You're a heartbreaker. People get attached to you, and then you're gone.&lt;br /&gt;Your strength: Your thirst for adventure&lt;br /&gt;Your weakness: Not taking time for slow pleasures&lt;br /&gt;Your power color: Hot pink&lt;br /&gt;Your power symbol: Figure eight&lt;br /&gt;Your power month: March&lt;br /&gt;What Does Your Birth Date Mean?&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatdoesyourbirthdatemeanquiz/"&gt;http://www.blogthings.com/whatdoesyourbirthdatemeanquiz/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a HEARTBREAKER???? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;though actually, it &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; quite interesting. take it and tell me what happens!:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113629204763729326?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113629204763729326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113629204763729326' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113629204763729326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113629204763729326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2006/01/your-birthdate-december-21-youre.html' title=''/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113593703612568902</id><published>2005-12-30T01:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-30T02:03:59.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>books</title><content type='html'>i remember now, why i've been so reluctant to step into a bookshop... i think i have an affinity to books (ha-ha, nobody knew that!!!) but really... it's a magnetic sort of thing.  they just... jump into my hands and stick there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;books that would not unglue themselves:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. siglo: freedom&lt;br /&gt;status: finished! :)&lt;br /&gt;i loved the last story... impressive. andrew drilon's work.  they were all very distinct and different and filipino:) SABS! IF YOU ARE READING THIS.... *AHEM AHEM* those stories were ALL ten pages!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. perks of being a wallflower by steven chbosky&lt;br /&gt;status: waiting to be reread&lt;br /&gt;buy it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. inkheart (if that's the first one...) by cornelia funke&lt;br /&gt;status: plasticked&lt;br /&gt;i was reading some crummy circle of magic books because i had nothing better to do over the break (not that they're bad... they're just... not for my age group? hahaha... children's fantasy type) and i thought, since i was reading children's fantasy... i might as well buy a new, critically acclaimed book&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. norwegian wood by haruki murakami&lt;br /&gt;status: read the first coupla pages&lt;br /&gt;it's hard to shift from one style to another so quickly, sometimes.  perks was very blunt and it makes norwegian seem overly ornate. i suppose i just have to get into the rythym of the thing... took me a while to get used to chbosky's style, but once i did, i didn't stop 'til 2 am. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;books i want:&lt;br /&gt;everything mentioned in perks! though i was really meaning to read on the road by jack kerouac anyway...&lt;br /&gt;little nemo in slumberland, taschen edition (coming in the mail!)&lt;br /&gt;siglo: the passion&lt;br /&gt;the guide to reading sandman&lt;br /&gt;fight club&lt;br /&gt;the boxed set of the complete calvin and hobbes!!!&lt;br /&gt;a nice selection of poetry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all i can think of right now. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113593703612568902?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113593703612568902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113593703612568902' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113593703612568902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113593703612568902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/books.html' title='books'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113542349469382844</id><published>2005-12-24T03:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T03:24:54.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>christmas</title><content type='html'>I want to have a meaningful Christmas.  What is Christmas? It's evolved - devolved into a giant moneymaking scheme for a bunch of hedonistic people in a consumeristic world.  What is Christmas? A time to shop? To ask for... things?  Things that you want? An excuse to acquire junk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas... oh dear bob, what has happened to Christmas? What has happened to Your birthday?  Shouldn't Christmas be a time of powerful emotions rather than expected presents?  Shouldn't presents just be manifestations of love?  I'm finally beginning to understand the line, "the essence of  gift giving is the GIVER not the gift."  You buy presents because you love the people you buy them for - to show them they're appreciated, to make them happy.  Gifts are just love in material form - past the price tags, the brands, the usefulness, the prettiness, if you scratch all that away, all that should remain is... love (at the risk of sounding like MME).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, I want to be able to show everyone I love how much I love them at Christmas.  Expensive presents? Is my love to be measured in money? Do my feelings have a price tag?  Certainly not.  Or if they did, then no gift I could buy would be worthy of any of you.  You mean much more to me than any trifle.  Strip away the ribbons, the wrappings, the paper, the boxes, the plastic.  Strip away the thread and cloth and wax and wood and what have you.  Strip it away and remember that I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113542349469382844?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113542349469382844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113542349469382844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113542349469382844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113542349469382844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/christmas.html' title='christmas'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113540519227566522</id><published>2005-12-23T22:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-23T22:19:52.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the woes of a photographer</title><content type='html'>my mom kind of scolded me for using three rolls of film last night (i actually didn't give her the fourth, even). "you do know that this is expensive, and you're just learning... blah blah... and film is expensive and developing is expensive..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "yes, i know"&lt;br /&gt;me in my mind: "it wouldn't be sooo expensive if you'd let me get the digital one to begin with..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want a tripod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For thirty seconds, you aren’t to move- don’t move! Stay completely still, while the lens of my camera etches your imprint upon a glossy piece of film. For thirty seconds, the dim candlelight will scar the virgin surface of the film and leave it marked forevermore. Leave it marked forevermore. Thirty seconds is an eternity if you have to keep still. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll find the rest at where the madness overflows into roses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nyaha. gnommic and mantic talaga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. long posts about water tubing and my bohemian birthday to follow soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113540519227566522?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113540519227566522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113540519227566522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113540519227566522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113540519227566522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/woes-of-photographer.html' title='the woes of a photographer'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113523365801190466</id><published>2005-12-21T22:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T22:40:58.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sleepy musings</title><content type='html'>I’ve cocooned myself into my solitude, wrapped snugly in my comforter with its silken cotton feel, sinking into the warm spongy depths of my cupcake mattress and pillows.  The airconditioning is cold, but that makes the bed more inviting and it drips of sleep and dreams.  Afternoon light walks past my window; the blinds shut the rushing world out.  The watery dusty sunlight dare not even venture past my green blinds, and I’m immersed in a pale half-light.  I’m alone, and I’m waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for lunch. Time to get up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113523365801190466?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113523365801190466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113523365801190466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113523365801190466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113523365801190466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/sleepy-musings.html' title='sleepy musings'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113500715033297864</id><published>2005-12-19T07:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T07:45:50.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>cousins</title><content type='html'>cousins is midnight snacking (on doritos and melted cheese or anything in the fridge)&lt;br /&gt;cousins is playing mah jong to maroon five&lt;br /&gt;cousins is monopoly and tong-its and chess&lt;br /&gt;cousins is being first wives or patrick and spongebob, even if you're a boy&lt;br /&gt;cousins is riding on top of a speeding van and feeling your skin get all warpy&lt;br /&gt;cousins is getting soaked and laughing your head off&lt;br /&gt;cousins is wheel barrow races and disneyworld&lt;br /&gt;cousins is matching but in different colors&lt;br /&gt;cousins is rush christmas shopping&lt;br /&gt;cousins is laughing at mindless movies&lt;br /&gt;cousins is laughing at clever insults&lt;br /&gt;cousins is laughing at mindless insults&lt;br /&gt;cousins is mrs. push-bottom&lt;br /&gt;cousins is singing rudolph the red-nosed reindeer at the top of your lungs complete with second voices&lt;br /&gt;cousins is maki neil diego and me (and the rest:P)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113500715033297864?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113500715033297864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113500715033297864' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113500715033297864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113500715033297864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/cousins_19.html' title='cousins'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113493382595682139</id><published>2005-12-18T11:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-18T11:28:08.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a little night music</title><content type='html'>there's something about typing in these hours&lt;br /&gt;that makes the world seem unreal&lt;br /&gt;i feel like none of this exists and i'm dreaming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's the magic of the morning&lt;br /&gt;surreality reigns&lt;br /&gt;i believe that our minds are much more malleable at this time&lt;br /&gt;being so close to dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe that's why it was taken so well. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dood_c*: just say it dear girl and be done with it.&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius*: but why?&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: what would the point be?&lt;br /&gt;dood_c: does everything need a point???&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: nooooooooo&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: but&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: in a world where nothing has to have a point&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: then everything should be happy&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: and it's not necessarily happy to say it either&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: for, aside from doing things for pleasure or for duty, what other reasons exist?&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: so... NOW&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: what's your take?&lt;br /&gt;dood_c: damn, you do put up a VERY good argument..&lt;br /&gt;evilest_genius: why, thank you&lt;br /&gt;dood_c: you're welcome..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*names withheld to protect the identities of the above&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113493382595682139?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113493382595682139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113493382595682139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113493382595682139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113493382595682139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/little-night-music.html' title='a little night music'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113492133232180934</id><published>2005-12-18T07:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-18T11:32:05.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the cousins</title><content type='html'>maki's 15 and she's like bridget in sisterhood of the travelling pants. VERY much like bridget...&lt;br /&gt;neil's 14, taller than me :( and the nicest one among the four of us&lt;br /&gt;diego's 14, really short, and he and i make beso when we see each other (he's not gay... i hope not...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;note: diego speaks in all sincerity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;diego: do you watch one tree hill?&lt;br /&gt;me: that's such a gay show! (what's it about?)&lt;br /&gt;maki: i read online that in the last season, the two brothers fall in love with each other&lt;br /&gt;diego: you mean they're LESBIANS???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i laid all my christmas gifts out on the bed and asked diego, "based on these, which girl would you want to date?"&lt;br /&gt;diego: what? huh? you mean that's all they're wearing???&lt;br /&gt;(NOTE: i got someone a bag only, etc...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;neil comes in&lt;br /&gt;me: hey neil! i have a question!&lt;br /&gt;diego attempts to ask it ahead: "neil! pretend you were a-&lt;br /&gt;me: he IS a boy!!!&lt;br /&gt;maki: ...not like yooou...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we'll never get sick of each other. :P oooh yeah! i have my mah jong mates!!!:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113492133232180934?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113492133232180934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113492133232180934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113492133232180934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113492133232180934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/cousins_18.html' title='the cousins'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113487897278611172</id><published>2005-12-17T20:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T20:09:32.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'>argh</title><content type='html'>why do parents have to be so unreasonable?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what if i don't want to have my birthday in tita ria's house? what if i want to have it on mikki's rooftop? what's so wrong with that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113487897278611172?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113487897278611172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113487897278611172' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113487897278611172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113487897278611172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/argh.html' title='argh'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113480549053102756</id><published>2005-12-16T23:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T23:44:50.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>bohemian rhapsodies</title><content type='html'>i suddenly have the urge to emerge from the cocoon of my drab life and put on painted wings of gossamer.  i want to swim into a sea of bright beads and citrus soaked threads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss my bohemian manifesto..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't want to take a bath, (but maki won't let me) lest it tamper with my rediscovery of the elements.  a little dirt is not bad, it's earthy.  sweat isn't so bad, it's... hm. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, after my bath, maybe i'll grab the eyeshadow and play a bit.  turn my eyes into monet's waterlillies and then some.. some... da vinci's starry night.  rouge my lips up until they bleed scarlet and roses.  clothe myself in poppy fields and rain.  and toss on my orange espadrilles ;) pile on garlands of beads and ornate fancy accessories that tinkle when i move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, maybe that'll help. maybe..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113480549053102756?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113480549053102756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113480549053102756' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113480549053102756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113480549053102756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/bohemian-rhapsodies.html' title='bohemian rhapsodies'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113479760723613079</id><published>2005-12-16T21:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T21:33:27.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>random notes</title><content type='html'>yellow post-it&lt;br /&gt;sigh. work with what is given? and win!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pink post-it&lt;br /&gt;don't leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeave meeee! :( MEEE! don't leave ME! what am i going to do when you won't be here to hold my hand anymore??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pink post-it # 2&lt;br /&gt;thanks for being my happy thought. ;) let's make new year and celebrate with sandwiches and ice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;green post-it&lt;br /&gt;i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry. don't ask me why. i still love you, i think. i'm sorry i haven't been a better friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;post it with ziggy and hearts&lt;br /&gt;COME BAAACK TO MEEEEEEEEEE!!! I LOVELOVELOVE you! and i MISSMISSMISS you! they don't deserve you over there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;slightly crumpled one-fourth&lt;br /&gt;i miss you terribly...&lt;br /&gt;why no...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*hahaha... you probably know which one y0u are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113479760723613079?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113479760723613079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113479760723613079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113479760723613079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113479760723613079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/random-notes.html' title='random notes'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113474924507628957</id><published>2005-12-16T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T08:07:25.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i flew solo this morning</title><content type='html'>for those of you who don't know, i'm in mindanao right now. (no pun intended!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i flew solo today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i LOVELOVELOVE saying that!:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my dad dropped me off at the airport even before the sun had woken up,  and i checked in, got my boarding pass, and boarded all by my lonesome - i'm a big girl now! hahahahaha!:P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when people ask me how my flight was, my answer is usually: "i don't know, i slept through it."  i figured my seatmate was the chatty type, and i wasn't really up to being polite so early in the morning, so i just slept it off.  i was right; when i woke up, he tried to make polite conversation, asking me if i lived "here" (do i look mindanao-an???) and stuff... darn. he was on my deaf ear... tried to be as polite as possible back... he was pretty nice - he got my bag down from the overhead compartment for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why are my cousins taller than me??? the injustice! good thing i brought my espadrilles (as a safety precaution, nonetheless).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;got a little christmas shopping underway. i thought i was in the shopping mood, but now i'm into the groove.  all it takes is a good shopping buddy. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;incident: i was in a department store, asking about a bag (for pair!) and i thought i couldn't understand what the lady was saying because i was deaf... only later did i realize that she was speaking bisaya! haha, so maybe deafness isn't THAT bad a problem... :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;urgh. missed the cocktail party. :( how was it, friends?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113474924507628957?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113474924507628957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113474924507628957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113474924507628957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113474924507628957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/i-flew-solo-this-morning.html' title='i flew solo this morning'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113465859028345255</id><published>2005-12-15T06:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-15T06:56:30.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'>movies</title><content type='html'>i need a date for memoirs of a geisha and for da vinci code... POPO (ahem ahem) is supposed to come with me to see rent. (ahem ahem)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really really want to see them!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da vinci code = tom hanks and audrey tautou, and yes, i love them both. sigh, forrest gump, sigh, the terminal, sigh amelie... and a very long engagement......... :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;memoirs of a geisha = the trailer's so cool, and the pictures too... and there's something that draws you to "the first megablockbuster hollywood movie with an all-asian cast." i loved the book too, if it counts. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rent = five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes... you gotta love rent!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;any takers?:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113465859028345255?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113465859028345255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113465859028345255' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113465859028345255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113465859028345255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/movies.html' title='movies'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113440232020433907</id><published>2005-12-12T07:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T05:58:31.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>decisions</title><content type='html'>bora or oxford?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;little nemo in slumberland or a digicam?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/3822863009/qid=1134740004/sr=8-20/ref=sr_8_xs_ap_i5_xgl14/103-6444937-1653402?n=507846&amp;s=books&amp;amp;v=glance"&gt;http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/3822863009/qid=1134740004/sr=8-20/ref=sr_8_xs_ap_i5_xgl14/103-6444937-1653402?n=507846&amp;s=books&amp;amp;v=glance&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check that out for little nemo :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113440232020433907?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113440232020433907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113440232020433907' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113440232020433907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113440232020433907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/decisions.html' title='decisions'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113432087440819879</id><published>2005-12-11T09:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-11T11:21:37.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the best one hundred pesos of my life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6646/678/1600/Image(448).1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6646/678/1600/Image(444).0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6646/678/1600/sundaes.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6646/678/400/sundaes.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday my dinner turned into roses. Roses, lilies, and a few sprigs of babies’ breath, to be exact. My caramel sundae? A red ribbon and some sheets of pink tissue. Delicious, don’t you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was quite a scene from Love Actually, really (Nenen pointed this out).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snape: “What is THAT?!”&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Bean: “Hoh-lly, suh”&lt;br /&gt;Snape: “I don’t want any bloody HOH-LLY!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a doubt, that was the best spent one hundred pesos of my life. Last night was a dream. Sitting barefoot at a posh zen table (in a private room!), eating sushi with chopsticks, and laughing at… *ahem* with my closest friends, all decked out in silly finery and smiles. That was on Katya’s parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commercial break: Katya’s parents can be so cool! Maybe it’s because when they’re out with us, they’re never in a rush to leave; you wonder, in fact, who’s having more fun, you or them. It’s as if their first date never ended. In translation: they leave us to our own insignificant devices and immerse themselves in each other. It’s cute. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, to Cold Rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve found the sundae. THE sundae.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6646/678/1600/Image(448).1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6646/678/320/Image%28448%29.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a doubt, the most potent stuff on earth. Dangerous stuff, it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, we had two banana splits (on Pair’s parents!) Truly, the ingredients of fantasy… doesn’t everyone wish they could just point at the flavors and toppings, and watch as your commands are obeyed and the ice cream comes together into a magical concoction of flavors, sauces, gummi bears, chocolate bits, nougat, marshmallows, cookie dough, and everything else you ever wished you could pile onto a sundae?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I mislead. That – THOSE – they were not THE sundae. They were delicious, but they were not THE sundae.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6646/678/1600/Image(444).0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6646/678/320/Image%28444%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The sundae was magic. First we pooled our money together, Jo-Fri style. Then we decided on vanilla. Then, we decided on gummi bears, cookie dough, frozen strawberries, rocky road, violet crumble, mnms and pound cake… I think. Then… then, we watched mesmerized as the ice cream guy swirled our four scoops of vanilla into a nest on the frozen counter, poured our carefully chosen toppings into the center, and proceeded to MASH MASH MASH at everything. All the employees gathered around to watch. Dexterously, he pounded away at everything, slicing, mixing, folding- WITHOUT turning everything into tasteless too-sweet sludge. A round of applause was granted to him when he victoriously scooped the mass into the cup and handed it to us, with six spoons, no less (one extra! It’s always good to have an extra spoon ;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point we were still innocent. We had not yet discovered the wonder of THE sundae. The first spoonful was unforgettable. The second was indescribable. By the third, when the surprises continued, we were spellbound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a doubt the best one hundred pesos of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I went to bed last night wondering if God could be so unfair that he would make you buy me two sundaes.” I think I’d cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113432087440819879?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113432087440819879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113432087440819879' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113432087440819879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113432087440819879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/best-one-hundred-pesos-of-my-life.html' title='the best one hundred pesos of my life'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113431258489112656</id><published>2005-12-11T06:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-11T08:18:09.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a photograph</title><content type='html'>The man and the lady stood in the sepia colored photograph&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man had a mustache that curled upwards, pinstriped pants (bottle green, like a beetle, but you couldn’t tell from the picture), and a slightly creased left cuff&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman’s bottom was enlarged by the pouf of her skirt and a parasol shaded the baby smooth curls of caramel on her head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man and woman both curved their lips upward and showed their teeth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People used the word “happy” when describing them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’d loved her once, when her hair was long, and her feet were light from dancing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’d loved him once, when his breath smelled of sweet words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’d loved her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’d loved her and held her, rocking her gently under the gaze of the stars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were the envy of the lonely moon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’d loved him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’d watch his back disappear into the trees, watch his wolfish saunter, so sure of himself, watch him from up in her gable window, and her breath would catch, her heart would flutter, would beat with the rhythm of his syncophated patent leather steps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She’d loved him once, when his breath smelled of sweet words - not alcohol and cigars, and lipstick that wasn’t hers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man and the lady stood in the sepia colored photograph&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perfect, but for a detail that photographs, fortunately, cannot capture&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113431258489112656?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113431258489112656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113431258489112656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113431258489112656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113431258489112656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/photograph.html' title='a photograph'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113431194859143084</id><published>2005-12-11T06:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-11T08:02:34.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>cherry tootsie pop gelatin red gummi bear bikini</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;in order to fit into the bikini of my dreams, i have to get FATTER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;there is something seriously wrong with this picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113431194859143084?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113431194859143084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113431194859143084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113431194859143084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113431194859143084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/cherry-tootsie-pop-gelatin-red-gummi.html' title='cherry tootsie pop gelatin red gummi bear bikini'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19739986.post-113419394125340042</id><published>2005-12-09T21:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T02:00:58.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>why?</title><content type='html'>to die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to fly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in a frenzy of daff-dandiddlions??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my head hurts&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19739986-113419394125340042?l=pitsandbieces.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/feeds/113419394125340042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19739986&amp;postID=113419394125340042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113419394125340042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19739986/posts/default/113419394125340042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pitsandbieces.blogspot.com/2005/12/why.html' title='why?'/><author><name>the poet</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
