<?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-6008372609811343541</id><updated>2012-02-16T22:45:36.983-05:00</updated><category term='starting over'/><title type='text'>Through my eyes</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-8282058050414598986</id><published>2009-02-09T01:16:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T23:52:55.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not understanding</title><content type='html'>Lately, I've been thinking about why things happen the way that they do. Not that I have anything to complain about. It's just that nowadays I'm left wondering what is it about life that makes you want to observe and appreciate it in all its glory? I came back from Spain, and I can't believe that I have to change my speech in order to adapt it to the current reality, the reality that tells me that it's been more than a year since I got there, even though it feels like it was yesterday. And I think about how long will I feel this way, when will the feeling of missing it ever go away?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm aware of the fact that I am not perfect, but I cannot be held accountable for things over which I have absolutely no control over. I've been thinking about people's purpose and what is it that they are meant for in life, and if I had to pick a purpose for my life I would have to say that it would be honesty. Yes, honesty. I will never shut my mouth if it involves me not standing up for what I believe in. I know that I am not perfect, and that a lot of times I end up stepping in my own pile of shit, but I can't shut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am obviously veering away from my initial point, but I feel that my actions have an effect even when my intentions do no entail for them to have one. When I rant and I criticize something that I don't agree with, I do it with the intention of letting things out of my system and, in a way, to teach a lesson. Right, who am I to teach a lesson? I have no need to cause any sort of unnecessary discord if the issue does not pertain to me somehow. Which is why I think that my purpose in life is to show people to be honest. To be honest with themselves, honest with others. Once you are honest you can finally be free, you know? People need to be honest with themselves, regardless of what that entails. One should not have to hide their feelings or their thoughts due to feeling that they should not be. It's as if I am a broken mirror that deflects the lies that others try to present me. It's broken because it shows some distortion, but that intentional distortion is meant to show a different angle, different perspective of your own self. She is right and wrong. I do know you more than you or anyone else ever will. But she's wrong by assuming that there is malice inside of me. You more than anyone should know this. I do not weave a maleficent plan to ruin people's lives. Quite the opposite, I unknowingly show people the things they do not want to see or choose to ignore. Most of the times that gets me in trouble, but you know what, I will take my chances. I don't believe in dishonesty, especially the dishonesty that pains people and causes so much unhappiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even believe I am playing this game and replying to something I should not even be held accountable for. Because we are little kids and have to hide the fact that we communicate with each other without really doing so. Bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I do agree that my act of criticism against what you may call freedom of speech could have been carried away, I do think that everyone is in their right to express their opinions. But when those opinions are expressed in a manner that seek to demean a concept or, worse, a person, then it deserves to be criticized and judged in return. Only then will the one who judges realize that their side is not the only one, and that the ignorance that they preach is invalid and out of place. I tend to play judge most of the time against those things that I disagree with, but it's only because I feel that you cannot criticize things in such a way that insults something and then blame it upon freedom of speech AND on top of that, expect for no one to say a word about it. So many things arise from that act alone that it feeds on anger, and then reciprocity (which is what I've done, you see how that caused my anger).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, you cannot blame a tsunami in Asia by the flapping of a butterfly's wings in Brazil. Don't blame your unhappiness on my words, because we all know that the answer goes way beyond a stupid little blog about vampires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's be real here, we are adults. Let's be honest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-8282058050414598986?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/8282058050414598986/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/02/not-understanding_09.html#comment-form' title='1 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/8282058050414598986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/8282058050414598986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/02/not-understanding_09.html' title='Not understanding'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-4256289835399741626</id><published>2009-02-09T01:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T01:14:34.845-05:00</updated><title type='text'>25 things</title><content type='html'>Rules: Once you’ve been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it’s because I want to know more about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I miss Spain. I never thought I would feel this way about another country other than my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I feel like I have my future plans figured out, but before I settle down to have an adult life I feel like there are many things I need to explore. I'm not ready to give up on my youth just yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I cannot eat anything blue. I simply cannot, it repulses me to my very core. You name it, gum, candy, anything. I can't. Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I am allergic to shellfish, but even if I wasn't I don't think I would like it all that much. It just isn't my thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I live in South Jersey but I could care less about the Eagles. Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I wish I could sing, I actually don't think I sing that bad, but I wouldn't dare open my mouth and bust out a song. Maybe if I was marooned on an island, maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I want a puppy SO bad, I cannot wait. I've realized that I won't be happy until I get one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I don't know how to drive and I am afraid that if I wait any longer I will become fearful of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I really enjoy writing. But I prefer to write in Spanish, things just flow more easily that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I tend to be resentful at times, and I will hold on to that resentment for an indefinite period of time. But I will let go eventually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I am very forgiving, but I never forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I tend to analyze people in a split second. Before I open my mouth, I usually have a good idea of who I am dealing with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Sometimes I think that I am not mentally wired for kids. After some time I just lose all my patience. All of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. I usually decipher people quite accurately, but no one has been able to reciprocate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. I always want what I can't have. Unfortunately, when I do have it I lose interest in it, or them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. I need to watch "He's just not that into you". It was about time someone realized it was necessary!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. I am discovering that learning new languages is something that I really enjoy, even if it gets horribly difficult, I find that I can teach myself the ropes quite easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. I seek a deeper meaning to everything I encounter. I am constantly analyzing different things on different levels. Sometimes the explanation is logical, sometimes it is completely illogical, but it makes perfect sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. I love jazz, and I think that the reason is because I feel that it's one of the few things I can relate to. If you want it to make sense, it won't, but once you allow it to flow freely and admire it as a whole, it is a beautiful thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. I don't believe in soulmates. I used to, hence why I don't anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. I am very critical of myself, and to an extent, of others. Usually because I am aware of my own potential.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. I truly think that one of the reasons why I want to move to NYC is because of Sex and the City. I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. I can't stand people who use poor grammar in their papers. You are in college, you should really know better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. My favorite flowers are tulips. Any color, but particularly pink and yellow. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. I always believe that everything has a purpose. In the end, things turn out the way they are supposed to. The universe works in mysterious ways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-4256289835399741626?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/4256289835399741626/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/02/25-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/4256289835399741626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/4256289835399741626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/02/25-things.html' title='25 things'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-6468091394327863919</id><published>2009-02-02T17:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T18:14:27.305-05:00</updated><title type='text'>O fucking K</title><content type='html'>if you have nothing to say, or you don't know a proper way to say it then, pardon my french, but shut the fuck up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you disagree with a concept, an idea, a thought, you are free to express your discontentment but do NOT judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am more than sure that when everyone was young they had an obsession, hell, I was in love with the Backstreet Boys and would have died to wear anything with one of their faces printed on it. Nowadays there are different obsessions, like The Jonas Brothers, Miley Cyrus, Twilight, and many other things. Now, The Jonas Brothers, what can I say about three 15 year-olds that sing and jump up and down. I would've probably been head over heels if I was that age. No, they are not the next Beatles like a lot of fucking morons say, but they are doing their thing, making money at the expense of little girls' tears. Cool. Miley Cyrus, if it were up to me, she would be a mute by now. But I cannot criticize her, why? because I am not 16. I loved Britney when I was her age, now I listen to Tool. Yeah, you get my point. And Twilight, I can only reference the South Park episode that makes fun of the movie and the whole "vampire" concept. Honestly, I could care less about what little girls are raving about this Edward Cullen guy, I don't give a damn. But all these friggin losers that claim to be "vampires" getting pissed off about the movie and the book need to shut the fuck up. It is a FICTION book, the author was NOT writing about "real" vampires if there's even such a thing. People who randomly decided to look into "vampires" because someone told them a thing or two about them need to look at themselves in the mirror. Who the hell cares what religion she is. IT IS A FICTION BOOK. Learn to be respectful, there isn't such a thing as a "real" vampire, what the hell are you complaining about. Judging the author and her "ignorance" only highlights and expands your own. When will the world learn respect? I wonder, I fucking wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People complaining about an idea being mutilated. Ok, where have these people been for the past two millenniums? Every single idea, once put forth stops belonging to their creator. Once that idea transforms itself into a coherent thought, then words, it seizes to be the creators' and becomes a source for everyone. EVERY single concept, christianity, judaism, paganism, all lifestyles at some point or another are taken and adapted for a particular purpose. Nothing belongs to anyone in this world. Stop complaining about that which was never yours to begin with. People are free to do with their thoughts as they wish. If they want to write a book about Jesus in a pony flying over the rainbow they can, and they should! I would totally read that. But anyway, stop complaining for crying out loud. What's funny is that the very people who complain about being misunderstood are the pure cause and result of all the hype. Please, when Bram Stoker first wrote the novel Dracula in 1897 everyone feared those who seemed to posses certain characteristics, and people started possessing these characteristics, on purpose! Hence, the very first episode of imitation of these "vampires". Why does all of the sudden people feel the need to establish a boundary between what is right and wrong in the "vampire" world. What is this? Give me a break. Yeah, I'm going to start making energy balls and taking pictures with bloody fangs, I guess that's what it means to be a vampire. Maybe that will give me the right to bitch and moan about some petty idiosyncratic movie. Go fuck yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, you may think I am aggravated, or perhaps irritated. The truth is, THAT I AM!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-6468091394327863919?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/6468091394327863919/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/02/if-you-have-nothing-to-say-or-you-dont.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/6468091394327863919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/6468091394327863919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/02/if-you-have-nothing-to-say-or-you-dont.html' title='O fucking K'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-3667808098976803058</id><published>2009-01-30T01:12:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T01:17:42.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yo Yo Ma and Dali</title><content type='html'>And aside from the rant, I found this on youtube. What a marvelous, delightful combination. The most magnificent cello player of our century, Yo Yo Ma, playing Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 in G major and by far my most favorite artist, Spaniard Salvador Dali. I think there was some Picasso in there too (also a Spaniard).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JysJGTUASrQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JysJGTUASrQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;color1=0xcc2550&amp;color2=0xe87a9f&amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-3667808098976803058?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/3667808098976803058/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/yo-yo-ma-and-dali.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/3667808098976803058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/3667808098976803058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/yo-yo-ma-and-dali.html' title='Yo Yo Ma and Dali'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-2890543650462204614</id><published>2009-01-30T01:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T01:05:21.299-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Monster</title><content type='html'>I just finished watching the movie Monster, with Charlize Theron and Christina Ricci, and I must say that it was more intense than what I anticipated. One detail caught my eye, I guess it's not a detail, more like the overall perspective of Aileen (the prostitute). In the movie, although it may be distorted from the actual true facts, she murders those men in order to lead a "happy" life with her girlfriend. The girlfriend is obviously young and feeds off of the fact that someone has cared enough to pay attention to her, so she and Aileen stay together and try to get a life. But what shocked me was to see how much she claimed she loved Aileen, but yet she was the one to testify against her. Granted, she knew all along what was going on, and she chose to stay by her side. She proclaimed all this love for Aileen and in the end it was her who pointed that finger and ruled against her. So that scene got me thinking, to what extent do we love? Do we love to the extent in which we can save ourselves? To the extent to which we can be immune to pain, to time, to trouble? Aileen trusted her, and yet she turned her back against her. (I am aware that she killed 6 men, that's beyond what I would like to focus my attention, I am focusing on love and how far does it reach) So speaking of love and its reach got me thinking about feeling betrayed, you know, when you give your everything to someone after so many sacrifices and in the end that person turns your back on you, either by changing somehow, or by ignoring their feelings. As Aileen stood there in court she sought out her ex's eyes and they looked at each other the love that once resided in her ex was no longer there. So where is the love? I mean, it had to have been in there somehow, right? People just don't stop loving when they choose to. I just thought it was fucked up, because i've been in that situation (NOT the killing 6 men part) and it's like multiple stabs in chest when you seek in someone's eyes the love that burned so strongly, and then just like that they just ignore it and you feel so betrayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How true is love? Seriously. I loved the last lines in the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love conquers all. Every cloud has a silver lining. Faith can move mountains. Love will always find a way. Everything happens for a reason. Where there is life, there is hope.&lt;br /&gt;[laughs]&lt;br /&gt;Oh, well... They gotta tell you somethin'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awfully pessimistic, but really, love is not what people put it to be. None of that "we'll be together for eternity, we were meant to be together, you are my soulmate/twin flame/yin/yang/twix bar, we will have kids and a house and pony with rainbows" bullshit. Life is real, and so is love. I'm not saying I don't believe in it, but all these idealist ways of looking at it simply taint it and ruin its purity. People need to stop playing martyr stop making all these excessive sacrifices that in the end come back to haunt you because they were never fully reciprocated. Making sacrifices for the sake of pleasing someone else, when in the end there are more sacrifices than joy, that's not love. Love is not about sacrifice, it is the utmost representation of balance, of equality, and egalitarian amount of give and take, not take take or give give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rant rant rant. once i start, i can't stop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-2890543650462204614?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/2890543650462204614/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/monster.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/2890543650462204614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/2890543650462204614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/monster.html' title='Monster'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-2557444746058562507</id><published>2009-01-14T23:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T23:15:37.667-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sxe Phil</title><content type='html'>People who are obsessed with the whole 2012 hype, the Mayan calendar ending, and ohhhh our demise, should really watch this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree with what he says wholeheartedly, and think that people should get over the whole 2012 thing. Stop using it as a cornerstone. It is a year, it does not signal the beginning nor the end of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt;. Everything that happens on Earth and within society occurs gradually, not from a starting point nor an ending point. So I think people need to stop talking about the 2012 in a way that implies the beginning or the end to something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DAhNsAX4AcU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DAhNsAX4AcU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-2557444746058562507?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/2557444746058562507/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/sxe-phil.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/2557444746058562507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/2557444746058562507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/sxe-phil.html' title='Sxe Phil'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-2458119226448526666</id><published>2009-01-14T10:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T20:15:01.450-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Artistic inspiration, or just mere obsession?</title><content type='html'>I (somewhat) learned how to play the guitar. I'm getting used to it, it's hard, my fingers hurt like crazy, they don't always stay in the right place. I am also thinking about taking violin lessons, since I already have a violin. But also, I want to get a keyboard so I can resume my short-lived career in piano-playing. Yes, I can tell this is a rather big task. My reasoning behind it is that something is itching at me in the form of artistic oppression, and it wants out. I feel like there's something I need to uncover, some sort of talent maybe, or just creativity that is screaming to get out of me. I am a woman with a purpose and I intend to find a vehicle for it to present itself! Whether that is the guitar, the violin, the piano, painting, photography, more writing, singing.... haha who am I kidding?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking about kidding, it seems that I spent my entire life kidding math professors about my actual abilities. I suck at it. I have to take the GRE's soon and there is a dreaded quantitative reasoning section! This section is gonna make my scores plummet like the economy!! I know that I am an intelligent person, maybe even above average, however my intelligence is in other fields like, sociology, literature, philosophy... Notice the patterns with words and thoughts? Now, numbers is something that I just do not grasp; it's almost as if I was incapable of learning that crap.&lt;br /&gt;It's so beyond me that I think that in my past lives I was never human, and therefore never needed math, so now I have to deal with this bullshit that I do not need. Seriously, I have never needed to find X to figure out anything in my lifetime. I intend to keep it that way!&lt;br /&gt;Now I need to fake-study. You know, when you go over things just so you can solve a couple of problems but in fact you're not really learning it? Yeah, it took me failing pre-calc twice to discover that math+me=disaster. My brain just doesn't grasp it. I'm sure that the left part of my brain that deals with math is just shut down. It went on strike, god knows what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screw math, it does not determine my level of reasoning or my achievement in academia! It does not! I am a perfectly (i)logical person whose worth or value is not determined by stupid little numbers or stupid fractions (don't get me started with the fractions!!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-2458119226448526666?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/2458119226448526666/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/artistic-inspiration-or-just-mere.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/2458119226448526666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/2458119226448526666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/artistic-inspiration-or-just-mere.html' title='Artistic inspiration, or just mere obsession?'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-7111123762862567879</id><published>2009-01-13T11:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T12:06:37.364-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My blog is tainted</title><content type='html'>I had a dream last night that Danielle and I went to Dublin as planned, and from there on decided to take a random trip up to Germany. The problem was that when we got there we didn't have a return flight so we ended up having to stay in Germany and miss the St. Patrick's parade! Blasphemy!&lt;br /&gt;That's NOT happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figured I would write down a couple of ambitions I wish to accomplish prior to the spring break euro-trip. Among those things include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Lose some weight!&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, stop eating so much crap so late at night. And start exercising! For the love of god, I desperately need to exercise, hopefully my asthma will allow it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Figure out a budget for the trip and stick to it!&lt;br /&gt;Can't be spending too much extra money, I still have to eat ya know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Buy clothes!&lt;br /&gt;I need shoes and all that crap. Yes, I am allowing myself to be a consumerist capitalist for the sake of the mean; come on now, I'm going to Paris!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Cut hair!&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm chopping it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Get new glasses!&lt;br /&gt;These old ones suck a lot of ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Reconsider Argentina&lt;br /&gt;Don't know if it seems all that plausible...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Work on Honors thesis for the Spanish Dept.&lt;br /&gt;I have actually been avoiding this much like the plague.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Stop worrying about boys.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, they can kiss my ass. I'm done with this whole giving numbers, never calling back bullshit. You know what, I deserve the best, and I am not settling for immature little bastards that wouldn't even have a clue how to handle me. I am not putting myself through this, no way. So I am letting things transpire smoothly, no efforts on my behalf unless they have proven themselves worthy of it. Yep, that means I will be a bitch. Deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Figure out these headaches, jeez!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Lay back and look up at the sky more often.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone needs to, it soothes the mind and the soul. Every now and then one needs to stop the constant whirlwind produced by incessant thoughts that cram in and out of that inconspicuous brain of ours and appreciate what we have been given. You'll realize how happy it makes you, and how it makes your life worth living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sláinte&lt;/b&gt; !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-7111123762862567879?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/7111123762862567879/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-blog-is-tainted.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/7111123762862567879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/7111123762862567879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-blog-is-tainted.html' title='My blog is tainted'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-5952401085312382300</id><published>2009-01-12T17:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T18:34:33.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ghosts from yesteryear</title><content type='html'>Sometimes you get the feeling that people who are not welcome into your life snoop around your things. It's a similar feeling to the one you get when your younger sibling goes into your room without your permission and starts reading your diary. And the reason why it bothers you so is because this person (your sibling, in this illustration) is not a part of the universe you have created through the words you have printed in that piece of paper, nor do you want him/her to be. In fact, it is almost insulting, unnerving and offensive when they do, because if this person isn't a part of the world you are creating, then why do they bother?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But people can't always put a lock on their diary, or on a blog. Case in point: I've been getting the feeling that there are intruders snooping around my things. And the feeling I just described is reflected in this situation as well. I am aware that this is the internet, and 'tis the main reason why people spill their guts publicly, because they know that someone on the other side of the world will probably read those words and maybe offer some advice, maybe criticize them, maybe relate to them, or maybe do nothing in regards to it. But that's alright, this is the reason why people keep online journals, blogs, and all these things. And what bothers me isn't that people read what I write, please, I love that! What bothers me is that ghosts from times past roam around trying to be a part of a world they no longer belong in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like an actual ghost; ghosts haunt for multiple reasons. Maybe they are not aware that their life is over, maybe they are haunting the person which they roam around due to a wrongdoing or unfinished amends, or maybe they just don't know how to continue without at least being invisible, silent, in the life of someone else. I suspect that the ghost that roams around here falls into the latter category. And you know what, it is ok. But when that concerned ghost brings over some of his current baggage, then it is not ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am ok with the fact that this "ghost" lurks around from time to time to check on me, but why be shady and sneaky. I mean, for all I know I am a perfectly approachable person, a quick line just asking how I'm doing will suffice; it's more personal this way, don't you think? So what bothers me is that you are masking a feeling, an urge. You &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;want &lt;/span&gt;to know how I'm doing, you &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;want &lt;/span&gt;to see what I've been up to. I know that you care, but you are lying to yourself by pretending you have cut all ties with me. What, do you think that it's done? Quite the opposite actually. My theory is that by being up-front you deal with everything, it's is much less disturbing than keeping it inside, like a secret; a secret that eats at you because you know you can't stop doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah blah blah. More rambling, I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-5952401085312382300?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/5952401085312382300/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/ghosts-from-yesteryear.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/5952401085312382300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/5952401085312382300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/ghosts-from-yesteryear.html' title='Ghosts from yesteryear'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-4527687397950656823</id><published>2009-01-11T23:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T23:35:49.101-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My head is about to explode</title><content type='html'>I'm going to be honest, this whole planning for my future thing does not sit well with me at all. I am probably the worst person there is to plan for long-term commitments, my body just reacts against it. And I am aware of the fact that most of the headaches and the anguish arise from doubting myself. I truly believe that I am capable and ready of proceeding with the responsibility of handling a PhD workload and such, but I fear that those who judge won't feel the same way. So there's the part that gives me the biggest headache of all, and that is coming up with a back-up plan. A back-up plan, seriously? Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do my back-up plans consist of? Since I am aiming for the stars going for the PhD, as usual, my best bet would be to apply to a masters program instead.&lt;br /&gt;Now, it would probably be a good idea to explain the background of this whole ordeal. I am broke. The only way I can afford to go to school is if I am given a grant and/or fellowship through the institution that admits me to their program. Which is the reason why I am applying directly to a PhD program as opposed to applying to a masters and then proceeding towards the PhD. Now, most masters programs don't offer any sort of financial aid, which would entail me paying for that out of my own pocket or in the form of loans. Hence, I am avoiding this option at all costs. However, there is a masters program that is cheap and well-respected, in fact it is one of the best in my field, and where do you think this program is?&lt;br /&gt;You guessed it, Puerto Rico.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where should I begin to describe Puerto Rico? Let's just say that Puerto Rico is to me what kriptonite is to Superman. I am pretty sure this illustration suffices.&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't mind living in PR at all, as a matter of fact I would enjoy it very much. But I have changed a lot in the last couple of months and years, but some things from my past still remain the same. I don't want to deal with drama. I dislike this because no one gets in the way of what I desire. If anyone knows me, they will tell you that I have always, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;, gotten what I have wanted. But I also don't step into the pit of what I do not want, and I certainly do not want negativity. Of course, none of this bullshit would stop me if in the end this were most beneficial to me. Everyone else would just have to suck it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decisions to make, somehow I wish I could wave a wand and make it all alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how I feel? Like I am recovering from a lobotomy. Seriously, my head is about to explode.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-4527687397950656823?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/4527687397950656823/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-head-is-about-to-explode.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/4527687397950656823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/4527687397950656823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-head-is-about-to-explode.html' title='My head is about to explode'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-7121421649172568999</id><published>2009-01-08T18:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T18:46:33.209-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I AM GOING TO PARIS!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;uQIWDHFDIFKMC8wefui39r82389~~!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I&lt;br /&gt;am&lt;br /&gt;going&lt;br /&gt;to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SWaPxr92fDI/AAAAAAAAACE/CeQosSV0rTU/s1600-h/Paris2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SWaPxr92fDI/AAAAAAAAACE/CeQosSV0rTU/s320/Paris2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289072896171736114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;PARIS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now back to being civilized. I am going to Paris, France, and I could not be more excited. Paris is probably one of the most famous cities in Europe that I have not gotten to visit; I am ecstatic! I am going to be able to go see the Eiffel tower, L'arc de Triumph, THE LOUVRE (I know you are jealous now).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SWaP2rNX6_I/AAAAAAAAACM/xrUcc4-AkvQ/s1600-h/louvre_pyramid_paris_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SWaP2rNX6_I/AAAAAAAAACM/xrUcc4-AkvQ/s320/louvre_pyramid_paris_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289072981867752434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I booked my ticket today, and after spending St. Patrick's day in Ireland, I am going to Paris! I will post many pictures for your viewing pleasure, worry not. I have danced, I have squealed, I have jumped, I have bounced, I have hugged strangers (not really) but no metaphors or figurative adjectives could possibly explain my over-the-top sense of joy and excitement!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This definitely makes me feel better than yesterday. So, indeed this has been the highlight of my day, and possibly my life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-7121421649172568999?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/7121421649172568999/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-am-going-to-paris.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/7121421649172568999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/7121421649172568999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-am-going-to-paris.html' title='I AM GOING TO PARIS!!!'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SWaPxr92fDI/AAAAAAAAACE/CeQosSV0rTU/s72-c/Paris2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-902316478848767284</id><published>2009-01-08T00:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T12:11:29.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I keep stressing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm stressed, again. But why should that surprise anyone? I've been feeling so overwhelmed lately that sometimes all I want to do is erase everything from my internal hard drive and just forget everything that bothers me. First thing that is itching at me is money, woo hoo. I am paying off my credit cards this year and that is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;! I will pay them off this year even if it means not eating as much as I should. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Second thing that is bothering me is the fact that I need a new laptop, bad. I want to get a Macbook, but resources are very very low. So in the mean time this piece of crap I am using is testing every bit of patience that may reside within me. *&amp;amp;^$%#@!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Third thing that is bothering me is the fact that I need to figure out what I am doing after I graduate. I know I am somewhat thinking way ahead of myself, but I have just been getting my hopes up about this PhD program in NY but chances are I won't be admitted due to what I call paper flaws. My GPA isn't as strong as someone who has gotten straight A's all their life, I haven't been as involved as other people. So all these things just jam up into my brain and fiddle around with my thoughts. I become more and more aware of my flaws than of my strength, and I know it's wrong, but I can't really do anything to stop it. I have a couple of backup plans, I am applying to NY, Miami, California, and Puerto Rico. The latter one is still up in the air due to many, many, many reasons and I don't know if that option will come into fruition, however it IS an option. And I guess that's also another bad thing, the fact that there are so many options and I need to make just one decision. It's tough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;ANOTHER thing that is itching at me is the fact that I am not sure if it would be reasonable for me to go to Argentina. As much as I want to, I don't know if it would make much sense considering my financial situation. I mean, I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;just &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;got back from Spain, and now I'm going to Ireland in march, a trip that will be very expensive, I can tell. I also fear that my reason for wanting to go to Argentina is the desire to somewhat replicate my experience in Spain, but I know that it would be impossible to do so. I don't know what it is, but I am seeking something else. I miss that feeling of freedom, of being unbound. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I'm tired, it's late and, now, I have a headache. I will continue to watch South Park until I fall asleep, perhaps I will have the energy to blabber about my demise tomorrow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;But for now, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;peace&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-902316478848767284?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/902316478848767284/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-keep-stressing.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/902316478848767284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/902316478848767284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-keep-stressing.html' title='I keep stressing'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6008372609811343541.post-1140397201459990471</id><published>2009-01-06T18:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T12:11:49.314-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starting over'/><title type='text'>Starting over</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SWPkvVBnKiI/AAAAAAAAAB8/tH_f-K_suOM/s1600-h/n8829760_43491454_1340.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SWPkvVBnKiI/AAAAAAAAAB8/tH_f-K_suOM/s320/n8829760_43491454_1340.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288321889211984418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 204, 102);"&gt;Sweet remote, sweet chalice... New Year, I am set!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;I am starting over! I'm not going to bullshit and say I have a new year's resolution, because I don't. Every year I start by saying this year will be the year, well no more. I am not jinxing anything this time around for I am aware that changes are bound to happen regardless, so I won't say things that in the end will make me look like a fool. So I'm taking baby steps, because I also know that the big steps are taken on their own. Things will be changing and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 0);"&gt;I love. I won't say I have a feeling this, or that. So, this whole mentality is what drove me to delete my previous blog, because it started as nothing, and ended as nothing. My heart wasn't into it, so I'm ridding myself of all that doesn't faze my heart. Alright, so yeah. Welcome to my blog, hopefully you can learn about me; if that doesn't work then I at least hope you can get some sort of entertainment out of reading some of my crazy thoughts, they will certainly be worth your while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6008372609811343541-1140397201459990471?l=mynervah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/feeds/1140397201459990471/comments/default' title='Commenti sul post'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/starting-over.html#comment-form' title='0 Commenti'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/1140397201459990471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6008372609811343541/posts/default/1140397201459990471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mynervah.blogspot.com/2009/01/starting-over.html' title='Starting over'/><author><name>Yoko</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00766976735747781710</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SZEJKd3AuzI/AAAAAAAAADw/3NG-du0tc88/S220/birthday.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_buKqylKrJ5s/SWPkvVBnKiI/AAAAAAAAAB8/tH_f-K_suOM/s72-c/n8829760_43491454_1340.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
