<?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-9018991</id><updated>2011-07-09T02:38:10.649+09:00</updated><title type='text'>My Stupid Mouth</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>214</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-3198474675015345856</id><published>2010-02-11T11:33:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T11:35:15.652+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Rundown</title><content type='html'>1. If you could turn back the hands of time to correct one wrongdoing, what event would you choose and why?&lt;br /&gt;There is no undo key on my life’s keyboard and there is no backspace, thinking I would want to undo a wrong doing by rewinding time is a ridiculous way of accepting guilt. I am not guilty that I lived by an instinct and did what I had to do and moved on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Are you one for tradition? If so, what traditions do you strongly believe in? If not, what makes tradition hypocritical?&lt;br /&gt;Tradition is classic and it makes you belong to something. However, I believe tradition boxes out creativity and passion. And quite frankly, that sucks big time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. You were taking part in an event and you had to crossplay, who would you crossplay as and why?&lt;br /&gt;I think I will crossplay a hippie Carrie Bradshaw, carefree, fashionable, happy, and passionate about love, life, and everything in between. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. If you only had one day left to live, how would you spend your last day? Would you be tempted to live fatally if you knew you were to die the next day, and if so, what extreme measures would you take?&lt;br /&gt;No extreme measures. Just the beach with everyone I love and mini boats off to sail the sea carrying sorry letters to the ones I’ve hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What are your top five sinful materialistic items, ones you’d expect from others including those closest to you? &lt;br /&gt;Cigs. Clothes. Shoes. Bags. Accessories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I am…&lt;br /&gt;my parents’ daughter, my cousins’ best friends, my best friends’ sister, my friends’ greatest support system, my enemies’ worst nightmare, my lover’s eternal sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I feel…&lt;br /&gt;I need to practice and live art more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I see…&lt;br /&gt;that every person is innately good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I need…&lt;br /&gt;every one of us to realize that every day is a battle against our own self, deadlines, aims and ambitions; there is no other competition. We all need to really stop, look, and listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I love…&lt;br /&gt;The idea of being surrounded by people, art, love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I wish…&lt;br /&gt;To get married, have a wonderful life, do charity while still doing the job that Im passionate about, with kids who are smart, good-looking, and down-to-earth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I think…&lt;br /&gt;I’m way better than what my parents think of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I hear…&lt;br /&gt;I look like a morenang Chinese all the time. I don’t and I’m not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. I crave…&lt;br /&gt;For happily ever after. I bet we all do, even if we don’t admit it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. I fear…&lt;br /&gt;Alzheimer’s &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. I hope…&lt;br /&gt;I can be my best self soon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-3198474675015345856?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/3198474675015345856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=3198474675015345856&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3198474675015345856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3198474675015345856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2010/02/rundown.html' title='Rundown'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-735085562591923984</id><published>2009-12-02T19:58:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T19:58:56.157+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Hear ye, MarkProffers!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SxZIXbeXoQI/AAAAAAAAALc/cRkuF0fh-q8/s1600-h/Holiday+Invites.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SxZIXbeXoQI/AAAAAAAAALc/cRkuF0fh-q8/s400/Holiday+Invites.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410591569681555714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-735085562591923984?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/735085562591923984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=735085562591923984&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/735085562591923984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/735085562591923984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/12/hear-ye-markproffers.html' title='Hear ye, MarkProffers!'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SxZIXbeXoQI/AAAAAAAAALc/cRkuF0fh-q8/s72-c/Holiday+Invites.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-6332587250649881960</id><published>2009-10-13T11:55:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T12:37:07.265+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/StPuQiTa8JI/AAAAAAAAALU/GSSN1dn4fWQ/s1600-h/tumblr_kodg2rCqi81qzdr4go1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/StPuQiTa8JI/AAAAAAAAALU/GSSN1dn4fWQ/s400/tumblr_kodg2rCqi81qzdr4go1_500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391915146746196114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starting a new life in miss-halfway.tumblr.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will be updating this from time to time still.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-6332587250649881960?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/6332587250649881960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=6332587250649881960&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6332587250649881960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6332587250649881960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/10/starting-new-life-in-miss-halfway.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/StPuQiTa8JI/AAAAAAAAALU/GSSN1dn4fWQ/s72-c/tumblr_kodg2rCqi81qzdr4go1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-2081413693567760092</id><published>2009-10-05T17:43:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T17:46:46.441+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Ssmx2hyOwDI/AAAAAAAAALM/zvm8k3aYVno/s1600-h/tumblr_kqtla0Ung41qzjgtro1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 280px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Ssmx2hyOwDI/AAAAAAAAALM/zvm8k3aYVno/s400/tumblr_kqtla0Ung41qzjgtro1_500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389033979465613362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-2081413693567760092?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/2081413693567760092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=2081413693567760092&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2081413693567760092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2081413693567760092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Ssmx2hyOwDI/AAAAAAAAALM/zvm8k3aYVno/s72-c/tumblr_kqtla0Ung41qzjgtro1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-6378201898513262791</id><published>2009-10-05T12:20:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T12:21:30.685+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SslmJymmnfI/AAAAAAAAALE/xpYs5O-RTvA/s1600-h/SemperFi1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SslmJymmnfI/AAAAAAAAALE/xpYs5O-RTvA/s400/SemperFi1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388950747514052082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're too sad. Too happy. Too heartwarming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-6378201898513262791?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/6378201898513262791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=6378201898513262791&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6378201898513262791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6378201898513262791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/10/theyre-too-sad_05.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SslmJymmnfI/AAAAAAAAALE/xpYs5O-RTvA/s72-c/SemperFi1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-7990587940702646201</id><published>2009-10-03T19:57:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T20:04:06.306+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SscviYAW0JI/AAAAAAAAAK0/QjViV70aiYo/s1600-h/c1fb27fc53553a76ee552f681784a6ac.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SscviYAW0JI/AAAAAAAAAK0/QjViV70aiYo/s400/c1fb27fc53553a76ee552f681784a6ac.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388327746778091666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Run away, Kar. As fast as you can. Please. Just run away. It's not safe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-7990587940702646201?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/7990587940702646201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=7990587940702646201&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7990587940702646201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7990587940702646201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/10/run-away-kar.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SscviYAW0JI/AAAAAAAAAK0/QjViV70aiYo/s72-c/c1fb27fc53553a76ee552f681784a6ac.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-1298500948996656453</id><published>2009-10-02T00:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T00:13:09.499+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsTG9SunOXI/AAAAAAAAAKs/AJl2KQzAYB4/s1600-h/jericho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 292px; height: 215px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsTG9SunOXI/AAAAAAAAAKs/AJl2KQzAYB4/s400/jericho.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387649810543622514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amidst the storm and the flood, you are still hot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-1298500948996656453?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/1298500948996656453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=1298500948996656453&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1298500948996656453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1298500948996656453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/10/amidst-storm-and-flood-you-are-still.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsTG9SunOXI/AAAAAAAAAKs/AJl2KQzAYB4/s72-c/jericho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-3058173026959785066</id><published>2009-10-01T02:38:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T02:45:18.151+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsOXyEieuII/AAAAAAAAAKk/UnJdPREylfs/s1600-h/9419_146134216922_631171922_3127386_1505224_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsOXyEieuII/AAAAAAAAAKk/UnJdPREylfs/s400/9419_146134216922_631171922_3127386_1505224_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387316465732860034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sticking to Manila forever, flooded or not, simply bec amidst all the drama, there's still overpowering love and support from everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God bless those who donated, helped, rescued, and sacrificed due to typhoon Ondoy. Good karma will always find its way back to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-3058173026959785066?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/3058173026959785066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=3058173026959785066&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3058173026959785066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3058173026959785066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/10/sticking-to-manila-forever-flooded-or.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsOXyEieuII/AAAAAAAAAKk/UnJdPREylfs/s72-c/9419_146134216922_631171922_3127386_1505224_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-2087298436260453507</id><published>2009-09-29T15:00:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T15:03:28.098+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsGjGWsyB3I/AAAAAAAAAKc/RysJQKwe28I/s1600-h/Music_Lives_by_x_Zam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 307px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsGjGWsyB3I/AAAAAAAAAKc/RysJQKwe28I/s400/Music_Lives_by_x_Zam.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386765958879774578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure hope music can save Manila too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-2087298436260453507?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/2087298436260453507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=2087298436260453507&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2087298436260453507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2087298436260453507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-sure-hope-music-can-save-manila-too.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsGjGWsyB3I/AAAAAAAAAKc/RysJQKwe28I/s72-c/Music_Lives_by_x_Zam.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-6008255234243036897</id><published>2009-09-28T11:19:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T11:37:59.273+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsAhQ_yVEyI/AAAAAAAAAKU/AL0jfoXiMuA/s1600-h/trgegt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsAhQ_yVEyI/AAAAAAAAAKU/AL0jfoXiMuA/s400/trgegt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386341730219266850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a rainbow always after the rain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-6008255234243036897?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/6008255234243036897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=6008255234243036897&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6008255234243036897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6008255234243036897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/09/theres-rainbow-always-after-rain.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SsAhQ_yVEyI/AAAAAAAAAKU/AL0jfoXiMuA/s72-c/trgegt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5216773779387258587</id><published>2009-09-24T23:37:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T23:39:59.186+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SruEiLnvLuI/AAAAAAAAAKM/HJTV_nX6Uh0/s1600-h/adfasda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SruEiLnvLuI/AAAAAAAAAKM/HJTV_nX6Uh0/s400/adfasda.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385043502221438690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a commitment. And an assurance that the world can still make you smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5216773779387258587?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5216773779387258587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5216773779387258587&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5216773779387258587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5216773779387258587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-commitment.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SruEiLnvLuI/AAAAAAAAAKM/HJTV_nX6Uh0/s72-c/adfasda.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-884267551448019369</id><published>2009-09-22T11:50:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T11:55:12.827+09:00</updated><title type='text'>24</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Srg7vsAkJuI/AAAAAAAAAKE/sxZ6LH7sUAY/s1600-h/8329_139702277062_584357062_3136674_4566968_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Srg7vsAkJuI/AAAAAAAAAKE/sxZ6LH7sUAY/s400/8329_139702277062_584357062_3136674_4566968_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384119044974847714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all the freedom, exciting adventures, and countless possibilities out there, being a twenty-something is the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a happy birthday, thank God for a charmed life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-884267551448019369?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/884267551448019369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=884267551448019369&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/884267551448019369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/884267551448019369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/09/24.html' title='24'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Srg7vsAkJuI/AAAAAAAAAKE/sxZ6LH7sUAY/s72-c/8329_139702277062_584357062_3136674_4566968_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-3915009294637513331</id><published>2009-09-21T12:22:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T14:19:11.940+09:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Srbxz5T-RxI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/W_YcO-_EVVA/s1600-h/tumblr_kpwnrxeXHi1qzr7ibo1_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 369px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Srbxz5T-RxI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/W_YcO-_EVVA/s400/tumblr_kpwnrxeXHi1qzr7ibo1_400.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383756278428223250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting in the little room&lt;br /&gt;watching you pretend that you don't love me like you used to&lt;br /&gt;I can see the lies inside your eyes, I cry&lt;br /&gt;cause I can't forget all the things that we've been through&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the walls come crumbling down&lt;br /&gt;Dust replaces the magic that we found&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if I told you that once I leave I let go&lt;br /&gt;Would you believe that I am stronger than you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wished it away now I can't stay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember in the little room&lt;br /&gt;the time we thought we had something special no one else had&lt;br /&gt;Well I don't understand how something so good,&lt;br /&gt;something so good can turn out so bad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it hurts you even though you can't show it&lt;br /&gt;I had to knock you down or I would have never known it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wished it away now I can't stay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you&lt;br /&gt;I hate the way you've made me hate you&lt;br /&gt;You couldn't say "stay"&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I move on?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-3915009294637513331?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/3915009294637513331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=3915009294637513331&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3915009294637513331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3915009294637513331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Srbxz5T-RxI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/W_YcO-_EVVA/s72-c/tumblr_kpwnrxeXHi1qzr7ibo1_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-4622645417307586235</id><published>2009-08-16T21:30:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T22:07:25.505+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Of friends and foes</title><content type='html'>There are things I do because I have to, and there are things I do because I want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oftentimes I brush people off for a reason. It was never for good riddance's sake, contrary to popular belief. I brush people off because sooner or later, they'll end up getting more hurt and loved at the same time by me. I don't want that. I can't take that. I've done it too many times that experiencing it again, keeping someone I know I'll hurt eventually, is just too painful and exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sab's mom once told me that the older I get, the easier and faster it would be for me to actually count my true friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to keep close those who can stand me and all my daily ramblings. The people with me now are the ones that were true since day 1. I may not see them often but i know there'll never be no brushing off with them. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To those who I can't keep now, see you in my dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-4622645417307586235?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/4622645417307586235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=4622645417307586235&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4622645417307586235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4622645417307586235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/08/of-friends-and-foes.html' title='Of friends and foes'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-4337784884574736208</id><published>2009-06-07T22:37:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T20:19:17.016+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Just one more moment, one more happy goodnight.</title><content type='html'>I've only lost one real special person in my life and that's my grandpa when I was in Grade School. I cried then but of course, all kids can only understand as much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days come and go as expected but when things go slightly out of direction, your world suddenly stops. Mine stopped this noontime with a call from my brother. It was a simple, simple task. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm grieving, I'm barely believing. I am totally in denial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yoga's been the best, sweetest, and most loving dog. She's always been asking for attention and I denied that a lot of times. I am cruel and insensitive, unappreciative and undeserving of her love. I am sorry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. GOODBYE, BABY. YOU'VE BEEN BEAUTIFUL IN EVERYBODY'S EYES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Sj4Wk1lh50I/AAAAAAAAAJs/ChOi6Z-fKYY/s1600-h/Yoga2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Sj4Wk1lh50I/AAAAAAAAAJs/ChOi6Z-fKYY/s400/Yoga2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349738229478319938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody knows it, but you've got a secret smile and you use it only for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-4337784884574736208?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/4337784884574736208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=4337784884574736208&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4337784884574736208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4337784884574736208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/06/just-one-more-moment-one-more-happy.html' title='Just one more moment, one more happy goodnight.'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Sj4Wk1lh50I/AAAAAAAAAJs/ChOi6Z-fKYY/s72-c/Yoga2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-9075622881785053164</id><published>2009-04-20T16:25:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T16:36:41.201+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Before the Worst</title><content type='html'>Show         +1 Vote upVote down&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while since the two of us talked&lt;br /&gt;About a week since the day that you walked&lt;br /&gt;Knowing things would never be the same&lt;br /&gt;With your empty heart and mine full of pain&lt;br /&gt;So explain to me, how it came to this&lt;br /&gt;Take it back to the night we kissed&lt;br /&gt;It was Dublin City on a Friday night&lt;br /&gt;You were vodkas and coke, I was Guinness all night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were sitting with our backs against the world&lt;br /&gt;Saying things that we thought but never heard&lt;br /&gt;Who would have thought it would end up like this?&lt;br /&gt;Where everything we talked about is gone&lt;br /&gt;And the only chance we have of moving on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is trying to take it back&lt;br /&gt;Before it all went wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the worst, before we mend&lt;br /&gt;Before our hearts decide&lt;br /&gt;It's time to love again&lt;br /&gt;Before too late, before too long&lt;br /&gt;Let's try to take it back&lt;br /&gt;Before it all went wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time that we'd stay up all night&lt;br /&gt;Best friends talking till the daylight&lt;br /&gt;Took the joys alongside the pain&lt;br /&gt;With not much to loose, but so much to gain&lt;br /&gt;Are you hearing me? Cause I don't wanna miss,&lt;br /&gt;Set you a drift on memory bliss&lt;br /&gt;It was Grafton Street on a rainy night&lt;br /&gt;I was down on one knee and you were mine for life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We we're thinking we would never be apart&lt;br /&gt;With your name tattooed across my heart&lt;br /&gt;Who would have thought it would end up like this?&lt;br /&gt;Where everything we talked about is gone&lt;br /&gt;And the only chance we have of moving on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is trying to take it back&lt;br /&gt;Before it all went wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the worst, before we mend&lt;br /&gt;Before our hearts decide&lt;br /&gt;It's time to love again&lt;br /&gt;Before too late, before too long&lt;br /&gt;Let's try to take it back&lt;br /&gt;Before it all went wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the clouds don't clear&lt;br /&gt;Then we'll rise above it, we'll rise above it&lt;br /&gt;Heavens gate is so near&lt;br /&gt;Come walk with me through&lt;br /&gt;Just like we use to, just like we use to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's take it back&lt;br /&gt;Before it all went wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the worst, before we mend&lt;br /&gt;Before our hearts decide&lt;br /&gt;It's time to love again&lt;br /&gt;Before too late, before too long&lt;br /&gt;Let's try to take it back&lt;br /&gt;Before it all went wrong&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-9075622881785053164?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/9075622881785053164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=9075622881785053164&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/9075622881785053164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/9075622881785053164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/04/before-worst.html' title='Before the Worst'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-6406647034325552354</id><published>2009-03-30T00:42:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T01:06:57.563+09:00</updated><title type='text'>10  messages to 10 people.</title><content type='html'>1. Ayusin mo na kasi! Di ko kayang saluhin ka forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I love you and I miss you often. I still think about you in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Feeling mo angas ka? Hanapin mo muna identity mo, please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Grabe na makasakit a. Ako pa ang nagmukang swapang, e hindi naman nakakaintindi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Ang damot mo naman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Thank you for being with me the other day. Reinforced my belief that I still have loving friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I think you're cute. Dreamt about you once, but that's about it. HMMM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Please don't waste your time trying to get me, you won't like me if you get to know me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Don't worry, everything's gonna be just fine. Please, don't let other people hurt you that way. You don't need another person to be happy. I'm here, now and always. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Congratulations, sweetie. I know you'll do well soon. Make everyone proud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-6406647034325552354?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/6406647034325552354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=6406647034325552354&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6406647034325552354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6406647034325552354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/03/10-things-you-want-to-say-to-10-people.html' title='10  messages to 10 people.'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-6547267688092199554</id><published>2009-02-19T01:08:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T15:05:45.213+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Reboot</title><content type='html'>There are countless important days in my life but I wanna claim FEBRUARY 17, 2009 as the date that will turn my life around once again. Finally, I'm back to Marketing. Finally, I've regained my self and showed them that I'm worthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my 2009 goals re-set:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. To organize successful parties and get-togethers for MarkProf as the Chairman of the Events Committee for 2009.&lt;br /&gt;2. To convince my parents to finally get me that well-deserved car.&lt;br /&gt;3. OR to save enough money to buy it myself.&lt;br /&gt;4. To launch a product successfully by the end of the year.&lt;br /&gt;5. To SAVE.&lt;br /&gt;6. To actualize the business that me and Earl are planning by middle of the year.&lt;br /&gt;7. To have at least 3-5 long vacations this year.&lt;br /&gt;8. To get my Ateneo body back [which I hope I'll get from all the future OTs].&lt;br /&gt;9. To get another tattoo to celebrate my lucky year, 2009.&lt;br /&gt;10. To discover a new talent/hobby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-6547267688092199554?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/6547267688092199554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=6547267688092199554&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6547267688092199554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6547267688092199554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/02/reboot.html' title='Reboot'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-6508372820127703099</id><published>2009-02-03T23:02:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T16:25:59.477+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Tumatakbo</title><content type='html'>Tumatakbo ang oras naiiwan na ako ng panahon.&lt;br /&gt;Tila bawat araw pare-pareho, parang kahapon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna feel like I'm getting old, but am I? I'm only 23. Everyday's getting a little more boring than the one before it. Everything's a little predictable. Since I stopped my everyday drinking habit, I just work [or not work and bum instead] on weekdays and drink on weenends. That's basically it. A movie once in awhile and a shopping spree every week's the highlight of my work week. Boring. BORING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna have a vacation and go somewhere interesting, somewhere with a deep history and a great view. I wanna spend nights talking endlessly to different people about their dreams, their fears, their passions, and all the crazy shit that happened to them. I wanna discover new talents and see if I can still pursue them. I wanna go clubbing every weekend again and feel like I can still keep up with those college kids who think they rule the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna go to magic899.fm and look at the latest songs just so my Ipod's updated again. I don't wanna look at my accounts everyday anymore. I just want to experience life the way I did before, the way little things feel so warm on the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, I'm finally up for transfer to Marketing. My dream finally coming true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-6508372820127703099?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/6508372820127703099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=6508372820127703099&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6508372820127703099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6508372820127703099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/02/tumatakbo.html' title='Tumatakbo'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-8409837163687057653</id><published>2009-02-01T23:38:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T01:20:00.208+09:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SYXLnDRNMeI/AAAAAAAAAJk/tKpvr8LjsGw/s1600-h/sadfs.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 136px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SYXLnDRNMeI/AAAAAAAAAJk/tKpvr8LjsGw/s400/sadfs.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297864408424067554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-8409837163687057653?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/8409837163687057653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=8409837163687057653&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8409837163687057653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8409837163687057653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-miss.html' title='I miss'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SYXLnDRNMeI/AAAAAAAAAJk/tKpvr8LjsGw/s72-c/sadfs.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-2453297190564107199</id><published>2008-11-17T12:21:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T12:44:18.429+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Coming Clean</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SSDnLxQrQkI/AAAAAAAAAII/e9lktS4fh78/s1600-h/c1fb27fc53553a76ee552f681784a6ac.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 222px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SSDnLxQrQkI/AAAAAAAAAII/e9lktS4fh78/s320/c1fb27fc53553a76ee552f681784a6ac.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269465753411338818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oftentimes I stare blankly at the ceiling of my room and wonder why I became who I was now. I always end up more puzzled and more hurt than when I started. &lt;br /&gt;I think I’m tired of playing games. I’m finally done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all the people that I’ve hurt before, to those who I’m hurting now, I am genuinely sorry. My heart aches for every heart break that I’ve caused and whatever happened then, whatever’s happening now, I believe all of it were my fault, my own stupid doings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been blessed to have that weird gift of choosing the loyal, innately good ones and that makes everything even worse. You’re all right, maybe I don’t deserve the best of you. Maybe I don’t deserve any goodness any more. But that’s for God to decide. Whatever his decision is though, I’m willing to accept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karma’s a rich bitch. I don’t know when my payback’s gonna come but I have to be ready. I dread the day that it’ll hit me but I guess that’s what I could expect from being the bad, bad person that I’ve been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the people that I’ve hurt, I hope you know that even if I’ve hurt you in any way, I’ve loved you deeply and you’ll always stay in my heart. Every memory is kept, every effort, gift, love gave are valued. I hope that even after all my short comings, my love that I have given is never doubted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 Corinthians 13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. &lt;strong&gt;But the greatest of these is love&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could see past my mistakes, past all the hurt, then you’ll see my heart, my love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-2453297190564107199?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/2453297190564107199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=2453297190564107199&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2453297190564107199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2453297190564107199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/11/coming-clean.html' title='Coming Clean'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SSDnLxQrQkI/AAAAAAAAAII/e9lktS4fh78/s72-c/c1fb27fc53553a76ee552f681784a6ac.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-4611207770624221650</id><published>2008-10-30T22:37:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T22:56:35.468+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Deja Vu</title><content type='html'>Can't believe I'm back on board again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haven't told Splash yet that I want to leave though. I can't believe I still have this same feeling of anticipation that I had before I started working. I wanted to be pressured, to be busy and all that jazz. Turns out, I'm the complete opposite. I'm very pampered. I get paid really high for doing nothing. I get a 16k allowance that I actually cannot monitor because I spend too much money on clothes, food, beer, and other miscellaneous stuff that I don't really need. The company pays for almost everything I need - lunch, transpo, cellphone bill, visibility plan, etc. HOWEVER, they haven't given me that one thing that I need yet: relevance to the company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, I'm on a search again for that next company. Didn't expect it to be that fast, though. I sent an email blast the other night about me showing my interest to work for other companies and the day after that, I got calls already. I just had an interview and exam with Unilab. Plus, I met with a head hunter from Ward Howell at Starbucks the other day. Funny, cool guy. Haha Feels like I have an agent now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope everything turns out better this time around. Golly, how I hope so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-4611207770624221650?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/4611207770624221650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=4611207770624221650&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4611207770624221650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4611207770624221650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/10/deja-vu.html' title='Deja Vu'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-4719724266477344162</id><published>2008-10-16T00:17:00.016+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T22:25:30.125+09:00</updated><title type='text'>My favorite QCS (Quezon City Spots).</title><content type='html'>1. Cubao X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPbQeEZb1RI/AAAAAAAAAF0/KAYa_cj2wy0/s1600-h/cubao-x.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPbQeEZb1RI/AAAAAAAAAF0/KAYa_cj2wy0/s320/cubao-x.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257618829996709138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I think this is a lot of people's favorite but I love it too much that I just have to mention it first on my list. A lot of magazines, blogs, journal entries, and columns have already described this place and must I say, they all captured the real essence of this captivating, magical place right at the heart of one of the deadliest streets in Manila. It's so fascinating how one small turn inside the Expo can bring you to a world full of culture, history, art, passion, and love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's true, THE X really does marks the spot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Katipunan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPwHefzTuEI/AAAAAAAAAGc/tV1HeZJcp_E/s1600-h/1_794864113l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPwHefzTuEI/AAAAAAAAAGc/tV1HeZJcp_E/s320/1_794864113l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259086685376067650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that whooole stretch. I've had most of my life's favorite moments there, may it be up north near UP or down south at the new Meatshop 2. Food's great, crowd's great, culture's great. Here's a list of my favorite places in Katip: Flaming Wings, Perspolis, Starbucks, Cantina, Bo's, Chickenboy (even if it's at Xavierville), Banapple, Cafe Xocolat, AZTA Urban Salon, Eagle Star Condo, Prince David Condo, Petron Gas Station, and My Cool Mint Spa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like home there. Now that I'm working, I still see to it that I go to Katipunan, whether alone (Then again, Katipunan is like New York. You always see or bump into and eventually drink with someone you know) or with my friends, once in awhile to have that feel of youthfulness and carelessness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Katipunan, everybody's a young rebel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Tomato Kick, Maginhawa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPbSYhkdogI/AAAAAAAAAF8/-HvIcaLXdKY/s1600-h/CTC-2384-image13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPbSYhkdogI/AAAAAAAAAF8/-HvIcaLXdKY/s320/CTC-2384-image13.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257620933771633154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steady kung steady. The place is small but it's quite great enough to have that quiet, steady inuman with friends. Tomato Kick also features acoustic artists in its humble abode from time to time that’s why aside from painters and designers, the resto attracts musicians too. Oh and the food there's one of my favvoooorrriiitttees! My all time loves from the place? Chicken Alfredo and Pesto Pizza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. 77 Cafe, Kamuning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPwdUF8swbI/AAAAAAAAAGs/AAU3uC6UQmE/s1600-h/IMG-2066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPwdUF8swbI/AAAAAAAAAGs/AAU3uC6UQmE/s320/IMG-2066.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259110695893254578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lola's inuman spot. This bar/resto is not your typical drinking place. On weekdays, yuppies go here to unwind after a long day's work. It's homey feel can automatically make you feel at ease and relaxed, ready for a night (and maybe morning) of drinks with friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Quattro, Timog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPyCnRBwLAI/AAAAAAAAAHE/S3MIpsQnasU/s1600-h/bnr-promenade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPyCnRBwLAI/AAAAAAAAAHE/S3MIpsQnasU/s320/bnr-promenade.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259222075959159810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, the old school macho mug. Haven't been there in awhile but it's always nostalgic everytime I'm there. Food's not awesome, the place is not as comfy, but for some reason, I like it there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. UP Diliman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPv-3-pJ9FI/AAAAAAAAAGM/5szPJoultoQ/s1600-h/000002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPv-3-pJ9FI/AAAAAAAAAGM/5szPJoultoQ/s320/000002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259077227547063378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This University has more to offer other than its top education. It is current Philippine culture personified. It's a venue where actual freedom actual exists, I think. I've been to two universities and trust me, UP people are way different from others in a good kind of way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people are smart and cultured. Their lifestyles are diverse and it would be heaven if I could experience all of it. It's like your typical high school chic flick setting. There's the musicians, the skaterboarders, the nerds, the athletes, the artists, the dancers, the cooks, the philantrophists, the activists, the religious; name it, they have it. The only difference though is that, unlike in chic flick movies, UP people actually get along pretty well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The closest that I got to this University was through my EXs and when I had to cross-enroll for a subject. I didn't push through with it though. Sayang naman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Mr. Kebab, West Ave&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPvy_66msfI/AAAAAAAAAGE/6P66zYWYU2s/s1600-h/mr-kabab-sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPvy_66msfI/AAAAAAAAAGE/6P66zYWYU2s/s320/mr-kabab-sign.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259064169845928434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing beats the original Persian love. Even after their most recent expansion, people still line up for the place. It's not even airconditioned! Goes to show how good tasting, old school food can be successful even without all the glamour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. EDSA Shangri-La Hotel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPyAm11NbaI/AAAAAAAAAG8/KRDhqqNaAu4/s1600-h/slh_overview_homepage_05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPyAm11NbaI/AAAAAAAAAG8/KRDhqqNaAu4/s320/slh_overview_homepage_05.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259219869635538338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's still my favorite hotel in Manila, or even in the country, I believe. It has great service and it's rooms are one of my favorites. Plus it's beside a very lovely mall that me and my family loves to go to. But of course that is subject to change because I haven't tried Discovery Shores and Amanpulo yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Seven Corners, Crowne Plaza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPwfj7Gc5QI/AAAAAAAAAG0/10KWLk99nqs/s1600-h/100-3207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPwfj7Gc5QI/AAAAAAAAAG0/10KWLk99nqs/s320/100-3207.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259113166882530562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We usually spend occasions here. It's sinful, actually. You go on a hunger strike for months then the minute you're in Seven Corners, it's gluttony once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Greenhills Shopping Center&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPyCnRBwLAI/AAAAAAAAAHE/S3MIpsQnasU/s1600-h/bnr-promenade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPyCnRBwLAI/AAAAAAAAAHE/S3MIpsQnasU/s320/bnr-promenade.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259222075959159810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently had my phone fixed there. Sabi na e, Greenhills will save me once again. I think of Greenhills as my go-to place, my hero every so often. Why? Because I end up buying clothes and accessories there after touring and looking for clothes in all the malls in the metro. Because it's where I have my techie stuff fixed. Because it's usually where we meet our South based friends. Because it's where we usually watch movies. Because it's where choose to eat whenever we plan to shop, tricking whoever that the only reason why we're there is because of the food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Route 196, Katipunan Extension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPwIPluouzI/AAAAAAAAAGk/s076LkwXtRs/s1600-h/DSC-0861.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPwIPluouzI/AAAAAAAAAGk/s076LkwXtRs/s320/DSC-0861.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259087528780675890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love the pizza. Love the interiors. Love the bands. Hassle lang there's entrance fee. Haha! I usually drink a lot that's why entrance fees to me are downers :( &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Xaymaca, Timog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPwC7G5UkFI/AAAAAAAAAGU/O_4BKpG5SkU/s1600-h/DSC-0991.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPwC7G5UkFI/AAAAAAAAAGU/O_4BKpG5SkU/s320/DSC-0991.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259081679348469842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For that reggae, fun, sabog vibe, Xaymaca is home. People's all sabog (for sure) and crazy, AHLAVET! This is the place where people dance to the music because they actually feel the music, unlike in bars where people dance to be sexy and attract other people. Here, even the left-footed people dance their nights away. Nobody's judged, nobody's sued for dancing in a weird way. Everybody's just out and about having fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Tomas Morato&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like Katipunan, I love the whoooole stretch. I just hate the bars along Tomas but other than that, I love the place. I love it too much that I think I've been in almost all the restos and coffee shops there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-4719724266477344162?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/4719724266477344162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=4719724266477344162&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4719724266477344162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4719724266477344162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-favorite-qcs-quezon-city-spots.html' title='My favorite QCS (Quezon City Spots).'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SPbQeEZb1RI/AAAAAAAAAF0/KAYa_cj2wy0/s72-c/cubao-x.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-7136188140924857237</id><published>2008-09-16T18:09:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T18:17:01.793+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Tis the season to be jolly!</title><content type='html'>Every year is different, fun, and unpredictable.  I love birthdays. It gives you enough reason to party, be conceited, be selfish, buy something new, and demand from other people.  THEREFORE,  here’s my wish list for my 23rd birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. FILMS. One year supply, please, especially 120s ‘cause they’re so expensive. Although. . . considering that I’m gonna spend more time with Vivitar and FE as of the moment, Holga could wait. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. GRAY BENCH PANTS. I’ve been eyeing that for 6 or more months already. It’s kinda pathetic, actually. It’s the one I need to buy but everytime I attempt to buy it, I see something useless and unneeded and buy that other thing instead. And to think the Bench pants is not even expensive! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. HAIR EXTENSIONS. Yes, I want them badly, I think. And again, I’m bored with my hair. It just recently went back to Burgundy but the excitement didn’t last that long. My hair’s in that awkward “Magpapahaba ka ba or maiksi lang yan tapos humaba kaya tikwas” stage now and I hate hate hate it. I want a super super short ala Rihanna one although I know that if I get that type of cut, my face will be popping out like a monay.  Therefore, I want suuper long locks instead and I want it asap. Don’t know if I have the real guts to actualize it though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. JACKET. I always want one, whether it’s my birthday or not. I saw a neon yellow/green motorcycle-ish jacket and I’m obsessed. I think I’m buying myself this one for my birthday.  Oh and I want a Mara one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. My baby, COULTURA IMELDA. I hope this business venture of mine will go a long way. The molds are done already. Time for shoe making! I hope one of the samples are in before I celebrate my birthday so that I could use it and show it to everybody on my birthday! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. SHOWROOM. I know I should start small but I want a showroom for the shoes. It should be an artsy fartsy, culture-related type of showroom. Might talk to F*art or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. LAPTOP BAG. I NEED a new one. I’m currently using my big royal blue bag for my office laptop and it tears up my heart everytime I use it for the laptop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.      MULTI-COLORED HIGH CUT NIKEs. Only because I think they're cool. Haha I have a white one already and I refuse to color them myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-7136188140924857237?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/7136188140924857237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=7136188140924857237&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7136188140924857237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7136188140924857237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/09/tis-season-to-be-jolly.html' title='Tis the season to be jolly!'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-1201801541832390930</id><published>2008-08-28T12:02:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T12:19:41.435+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Seven things I hate about you</title><content type='html'>1. You make me feel the worst. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. You make me laugh, you make me cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. You don't socialize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. You're insecure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Whatever I do isn't enough for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. You blame or sue me for things I don't do. My family does that. I thought you knew me well enough? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. You make me love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-1201801541832390930?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/1201801541832390930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=1201801541832390930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1201801541832390930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1201801541832390930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/08/seven-things-i-hate-about-you.html' title='Seven things I hate about you'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-2913692105345174174</id><published>2008-08-06T21:12:00.004+09:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T22:09:44.400+09:00</updated><title type='text'>To be the Witch of Portobello</title><content type='html'>Okay, breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am totally loving my job! After I cried my heart out and took all the time in the world to think about things, the head of the Sales Dept said that I'll be handling consecutively all the accounts of the National Accounts Group, the most elite of the Sales groups, PLUS I get to do my own Marketing and Brand Activation activities without anyone stopping or limiting my ideas. I'm not out of Marketing after all! Plus I get to get all the perks that Splash Sales people get. Life's good, God's great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First stop: SM Account. I haven't been sleeping well these past nights. I want to start with a blast. Sir Rico wants me to do Marketing programs per account that have never been done before. E ANO PA KAYA PWEDE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not giving up, though. &lt;em&gt;I get too scared, sometimes, but it's at such moments that I discover a wisdom that is beyond me, and I go forward.&lt;/em&gt;   Now it's my choices that would create my destiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SJmieeBi9RI/AAAAAAAAAFs/0nfgSOeb-aI/s1600-h/hgfk.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SJmieeBi9RI/AAAAAAAAAFs/0nfgSOeb-aI/s400/hgfk.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231391086506865938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SPEAKING OF choices, I recently chose not to fill my life with work and whatever it is that's been bugging my life. Paulo Coelho said: &lt;em&gt;Relax and feel good. That is sometimes all we can hope for from this life.&lt;/em&gt; So I'm starting to reconnect with myself again, with my roots. I've been reading again and it feels soooo good. I feel enlightened everytime I end one and totally excited by the time I'm about to start a new one. I'm into arts again - photography, drawings, music, the works. I'm about to travel to Bacolod with my loves and I'm very excited about that. I'm going back to Cubao Ex again soon. I love it there. I feel like a different person there, and it's really liberating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what everybody needs, I think. Liberation. Liberation from every rule that's been laid out by society. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When we dare to see things differently, life opens up to our eyes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-2913692105345174174?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/2913692105345174174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=2913692105345174174&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2913692105345174174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2913692105345174174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/08/to-be-witch-of-portobello.html' title='To be the Witch of Portobello'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SJmieeBi9RI/AAAAAAAAAFs/0nfgSOeb-aI/s72-c/hgfk.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-3842581557403821778</id><published>2008-07-17T22:19:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T23:02:02.817+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Luck Schmuck</title><content type='html'>Unlucky people are generally more tense than lucky people, and this anxiety disrupts their ability to notice the unexpected. Therefore, they miss opportunities because they are too focused on looking for something else. They go to parties trying to find a perfect partner and so miss opportunities to make good friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky people are more relaxed and open, seeing what's there rather than just what they are looking for. They generate good fortune via four principles. They are skilled at creating and noticing chance opportunities, make lucky decisions by listening to their intuition, create self-fulfilling prophesies via positive expectations, and adopt a resilient attitude that transforms bad luck into good.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what happened to me? Why am I in Sales?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently learned that instead of being assigned to Marketing, I was assigned to Sales. I hate it. Like any other unlucky person, I was too focused to see the unexpected. And boy was it shocking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like my world just stopped. Everything that I've worked for the last three years of my life seemed to have vanished in that 30-min conversation with Ms. Vanessa. I've long been waiting to go to Marketing, to  handle a brand and claim it as my own. It's the reason why I joined MarkProf. It's the reason why I studied Marketing in the first place. And now, everything's just messed up. So messed up in fact that I'm considering the idea of resigning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting a car, high comission every month, unexpected salary raise (aside from the raise that is planned soon, too), 250 liters of gas per month, a new laptop, a company card, unlimited free time, the works. The downside? Nothing there seems tempting to me. I don't care about the money, me and my family have that. I don't care about the car, I hate driving. I'd rather ride with Kuya Willy forever. I don't care about a laptop, my personal laptop is way better than what they're giving me, I think. I don't care about the free time, I want to be pressured, to be challenged. I don't care about the company card either. All I want is the experience. That certain feeling that I've long been wanting to feel since I started this career path to Marketing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I'm banking on now is the idea of becoming a better person through this Sales experience. Everybody's been saying that this would be the best move for me if I want to become a really really good Marketing professional someday. That I'll be making better decisions when I go into Sales first. God, I hope they're right. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as my tat implies, I have to make a choice and see if it really does contribute to my destiny. Am I really for Marketing? Let's see. I hope I am (coz my heart's still with it) but let's see. I won't block my heart anymore, though. I'll venture into the world of Trade Marketing and see if I'll grow there. Who knows, I may be lucky this time around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-3842581557403821778?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/3842581557403821778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=3842581557403821778&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3842581557403821778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3842581557403821778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/07/luck-schmuck.html' title='Luck Schmuck'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-6529894427935195237</id><published>2008-06-26T22:36:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T22:44:02.260+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Every Filipino has a 24/7 humor</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;The Philippines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only place on earth where...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.   Every street has a basketball court.&lt;br /&gt;2.   Even lawyers and engineers are unemployed.&lt;br /&gt;3.   Physicians study to become nurses for employment abroad.&lt;br /&gt;4.   Students pay more money than they will earn after.&lt;br /&gt;5.   School is considered the second home and the mall considered the third.&lt;br /&gt;6.   Call-center employees earn more money than teachers and nurses.&lt;br /&gt;7.   Everyone has his personal ghost story and superstition.&lt;br /&gt;8.   Mountains like Makiling and Banahaw, are considered holy places.&lt;br /&gt;9.   Everything can be forged.&lt;br /&gt;10.  All animals are edible.&lt;br /&gt;11.  Starbucks is still more expensive than gas.&lt;br /&gt;12.  Driving 4 kms can take as much as four hours.&lt;br /&gt;13.  Flyovers bring you from the freeway to the side streets.&lt;br /&gt;14.  Crossing the street involves running for your dear life.&lt;br /&gt;15.  The PC at home is mainly used for games and Friendster or Myspace.&lt;br /&gt;16.  Where colonial mentality is dishonestly denied!&lt;br /&gt;17.  Where 4 a.m. is not even considered bedtime yet.&lt;br /&gt;18.  People can pay to defy the law.&lt;br /&gt;19.  Everything and everyone is spoofed.&lt;br /&gt;20.  Where even the poverty-stricken get to wear branded clothes and come home to an empty fridge.&lt;br /&gt;21.  The honking of car horns is a way of life.&lt;br /&gt;22.  Being called a bum is never ever offensive. In fact, said with pride.&lt;br /&gt;23.  Floodwaters take up more than 90 percent of the streets during the rainy season.&lt;br /&gt;24.  Where everyone has a relative abroad who keeps them alive.&lt;br /&gt;25.  Where wearing your national colors make you baduy.&lt;br /&gt;26.  Where even the poorest of the poor have the latest cell phones stolen or snatched or pick pocketed from those who can afford.&lt;br /&gt;27.  Where insurance does not work.&lt;br /&gt;28.  Where water can only be classified as tap and dirty.&lt;br /&gt;29.  Where bottled water is sosyal.&lt;br /&gt;30.  Where the government makes the people pray for miracles. Harharhar!&lt;br /&gt;31.  Where University of the Philippines where all the weird people go.&lt;br /&gt;32.  Ateneo University is where all the nerds go.&lt;br /&gt;33.  La Salle University is where all the Chinese go.&lt;br /&gt;34.  College of Saint Benilde is where all the stupid Chinese go&lt;br /&gt;35.  University of Asia and the Pacific is where all the irrelevantly rich people go and Cebu Doctors’ University aka Cebu Dollars University, where the wannabe-rich go.&lt;br /&gt;36.  Fast food is a diet meal.&lt;br /&gt;37.  Traffic signs are merely suggestions, not regulations. &lt;br /&gt;38.  Where being mugged is normal and happens to everyone.&lt;br /&gt;39.  Rodents are normal house pets.&lt;br /&gt;40.  The definition of traffic is the 'non-movement' of vehicles. &lt;br /&gt;41.  Where the fighter planes of the 1940s are used for military engagements.&lt;br /&gt;42.  The new fighter planes are displayed in museums. Lol!!!&lt;br /&gt;43.  Where cigarettes and alcohol are a necessity, and where the lottery is a commodity.&lt;br /&gt;44.  Where soap operas tell the realities of life and where the news provides the drama.&lt;br /&gt;45.  Where actors make the rules and where politicians provide the entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;46.  People can get away with stealing trillions of pesos but not a thousand. &lt;br /&gt;47.  Where being an hour late is still considered punctual. Harharhar!!! Grabe!!!&lt;br /&gt;48.  Where the squatters complain (even if they do not pay their tax) than those    employed and have their tax automatically deducted from their salaries.&lt;br /&gt;49.  And where everyone wants to go to another country even to war-stricken ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;FILIPINO SIGNS OF WIT:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  The sign in a flower shop in Diliman called Petal Attraction.&lt;br /&gt;2.  Anita Bakery&lt;br /&gt;3.  A 24-hour restaurant called Doris Day &amp; Night&lt;br /&gt;4.  Barber shop called Felix the Cut;&lt;br /&gt;5.  A coffee shop named Brews Almighty&lt;br /&gt;6.  Fast-food place selling 'maruya' (banana fritters) called Maruya Carey.&lt;br /&gt;7.  Then, there are Christopher Plumbing&lt;br /&gt;8.  A boutique called The Way We Wear&lt;br /&gt;9.  A video rental shop called Leon King Video Rental&lt;br /&gt;10. A restaurant in Cainta district of Rizal called Caintacky Fried Chicken&lt;br /&gt;11. A local burger restaurant called Mang Donald's&lt;br /&gt;12. A doughnut shop called MacDonuts&lt;br /&gt;13. A shop selling ‘lumpia’ (egg roll) in Makati called Wrap and Roll&lt;br /&gt;14. And two butcher shops called Meating Place and Meatropolis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Smart travelers can decipher what may look like baffling signs to unaccustomed foreigners by simply sounding out the 'Taglish' - the Philippine version of English words spelled and pronounced with a heavy Filipino such as:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. At a restaurant menu in Cebu. The sign read and spelled, “We hab sopdrink in can an in batol?”&lt;br /&gt;16. Then, a sewing accessories shop spelled Bids and Pises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There are also many signs with either badly chosen or misspelled words but they are usually so entertaining that it would be a mistake to 'correct' them like.......&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. In a restaurant in Baguio City - Wanted: Boy Waitress Lol!!!!&lt;br /&gt;18. On a highway in Pampanga - We Make Modern Antique Furniture&lt;br /&gt;19. On the window of a photography shop in Cabanatuan - We Shoot You While You Wait&lt;br /&gt;20. And on the glass front of a cafe in Panay Avenue in Manila - Wanted: Waiter, Cashier, Washier&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the notices can even give a wrong impression such as: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. A shoe store in Pangasinan - We Sell Imported Robber Shoes&lt;br /&gt;22. A rental property sign in Jaro reads - House for Rent, Fully Furnaced&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Occasionally, one could come across signs that are truly unique - if not altogether odd.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. City in southern Philippines - Adults: 1 peso; Child: 50 centavos; Cadavers: fare subject to           negotiation&lt;br /&gt;24. European tourists may also be intrigued to discover two competing shops selling hopia (a Chinese pastry) called Holland Hopia and Poland Hopia - which are owned and operated by two local Chinese entrepreneurs, Mr. Ho and Mr. Po respectively believe it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Some folks also 'creatively' redesign English to be more efficient. The creative confusion between language and culture leads to more than just simple unintentional errors in syntax, but in the adoption of new words?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Says reader Robert Goodfellow who came across a sign..... House Fersallarend (house for sale or rent). Why use five words when two will do?&lt;br /&gt;26. According to a Manila businessman, there is so much wit in the Philippines because? We are a country where a good sense of humor is needed to survive? We have a 24-hour comedy show here called the government and a huge reserve of comedians made up mostly of politicians and bad actors.&lt;br /&gt;27. A restaurant in Quezon City with the name - “Cooking Ng Ina Nyo!”&lt;br /&gt;28. Because business was good, another restaurant on the next block opened with the name “Cooking Ng Ina Nyo Rin!”&lt;br /&gt;29. A certain Susan opened a flower shop south of metro manila… and the name of the shop is "Susan’s Roses”&lt;br /&gt;30. A bakery named Bread Pitt&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-6529894427935195237?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/6529894427935195237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=6529894427935195237&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6529894427935195237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6529894427935195237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/06/every-filipino-has-247-humor.html' title='Every Filipino has a 24/7 humor'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5921307382229210046</id><published>2008-06-26T21:46:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T22:22:21.648+09:00</updated><title type='text'>To growing up and feeling young-er</title><content type='html'>I updated my resume awhile ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Previous CV Objective&lt;/em&gt;: To excel in Marketing in a progressive, Multinational company&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Recent CV Objective&lt;/em&gt;: To excel in Marketing in a progressive company without sacrificing my love for beauty and the arts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I look at a summary of my life in approximately 1-2 pages, I knew then that I am a lot different from who I was about 3 months ago. It's sad, actually, that even if I have the job that I've always wanted, I'd have to sacrifice time with my friends, with alcohol, with cigs, and with everything else that's related to simple, everyday fun. We all have to grow up at one point and I guess this is my time to shine. Or unshine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just so hard to accept sometimes, especially when I'm home at around 6.30 in the evening already. I don't want to grow up that fast. I refuse to. That's why I try to wear as much sleeveless tops as possible now (because I can't at the office). That's why I'm out almost everytime a person invites me to go anywhere, anytime. That's why I'm into art again (Hello, Ces Drilon). That's why I buy cameras. That's why I love hanging out at Cubao X. That's why my Tyler corporate pieces are just inside my cabinet, waiting to be used. I don't want to grow up and be fat and be boring. I want to live, love, and be loved. I want to explore, to experience everything and I will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my work, I know I will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some say work makes you feel and look older than you actually are. Right now, with my expanding body, I think so too. But I promised myself (yesterday) that I shouldn't just jump in the bandwagon. Come Monday, I'm giving myself a diet diary. No overtimes for me EVER too: time at the office = food. No more batugan blues and hello to exercise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to be ready. I have to ready for my "growing up" come July because I will be handling a brand at that time and ready for my "feeling young-er" come August when I go back to Bacolod! Hello, Wenki!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5921307382229210046?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5921307382229210046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5921307382229210046&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5921307382229210046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5921307382229210046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/06/to-growing-up-and-feeling-young-er.html' title='To growing up and feeling young-er'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-2684675950767289697</id><published>2008-06-10T18:39:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T18:43:07.655+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaning Tower</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SE5MIUElrNI/AAAAAAAAAEI/WdnWw7q7SZg/s1600-h/000032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SE5MIUElrNI/AAAAAAAAAEI/WdnWw7q7SZg/s400/000032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210185524624862418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I've been feeling uninspired, blank, weird. Come inspire me again, like this photo that radiates. Love me, hold me close. Be my inspiration please, and not my downfall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you on most days but I love you everyday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-2684675950767289697?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/2684675950767289697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=2684675950767289697&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2684675950767289697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2684675950767289697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/06/leaning-tower.html' title='Leaning Tower'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/SE5MIUElrNI/AAAAAAAAAEI/WdnWw7q7SZg/s72-c/000032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5909749793097465559</id><published>2008-04-24T13:48:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T13:52:49.910+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Restless in Seattle (weh)</title><content type='html'>Work hasn’t been as challenging as I thought it would be, considering that we’re still in the Classroom phase of our Training Program. I can’t wait to handle my own brand, to create its image, build its positioning, and do events and ads for it. I can’t wait to brag about my ‘baby’, the one I actually created from scratch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t wait to rant about how stressed I actually am with work ‘cause I know that however intense my rants would be, I know that by the end of the day, I’m fulfilled. I can’t wait to work overtime and chit chat my way to the wee hours of the night with the other fab and fasyon people of Splash. I can’t wait to meet the push girls who think they’re all so pretty and fab and laugh my heart out. I can’t wait to meet the yummy Brazilian boys that I see loitering around this big Splash office (that has no elevator, wow).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that’s one reason why I had to decline a lot of Advertising Agencies. I knew I wanted to own something and not just market it the way my clients would want me to. I want to be in that world of battling perceptions, where every audience can be moved with just one set of words, one great packaging material, and one distinctive product quality. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I’m just waiting for that adrenaline rush to actualize, I’ll just be spending my money on useless stuff and going on vacations with the people who invite me. I have a lot of catching up to do. I’ve only been to Galera (never again talaga, or at least in a long time) and Pagudpud for this summer. My overnight trip to Balay, Indang does not count ‘cause even if the place is surprisingly wonderful, peaceful, and serene, it’s still not a vacation. I missed Bora this  year with my bitches (don’t you wanna go again anytime after June?). On Friday I’m going to Mt. Pinatubo for Ning’s birthday then the weekend after that, Im off to Bangkok. After that, nada! Invite me, people! I’m trying my best not to spend so that I could buy important stuff (my Fisheye 2 Holga, that adorable checkered jacket) on my second sweldo ever as a real employee. So… I don’t really wanna pay for out of  town trips. Waha! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing Bobby’s coming home on Tuesday from New York. I cant wait for my bilins! Bring it to me, Bobby! All those stuff made me stop buying for more clothes. I wanna see my Uggs, new sandalsssss, bags, and all the other goodies!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5909749793097465559?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5909749793097465559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5909749793097465559&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5909749793097465559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5909749793097465559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/04/restless-in-seattle-weh.html' title='Restless in Seattle (weh)'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-9060604981553189329</id><published>2008-04-03T18:38:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T20:30:50.461+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Secrets II</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"Although it's wonderful that you recommend 1(800) SUICIDE for suicidal people, not all people with secrets are depressed, oppressed or scared. I think secrets are a good thing. It makes a person more mysterious, sexy and unique. Secrets are fun, liberating; they make people who they are."&lt;/em&gt; - Canada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been gloomy these past few days that is why the moment I knew I had the liberty to do out-of-base work today, I headed to the bookstore for some "research". I scanned through different books, found so-so stuff and realized that all I needed can be found in Euromonitor already (Thanks Steph for getting them for me). Bottomline is I ended up reading about two other editions of my favorite book Post Secrets instead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't feel entirely sad when I go through the postcards, or rather, I still feel sad, but I feel like there are a lot more people going through the same thing with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading them for about two hours (or more) made a whole lot of difference. I adore you, Frank Warren that is why I'm letting go of five of my secrets. Not that a lot of people would care, really. I just hope someone's touched by them in one way or another, the way I was touched by a lot of the secrets in the Post Secrets book. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My planner is half the story. Everything is in my diary (Yes, I have one) and nobody knows where it is because if someone finds out, I'm pretty sure it's to my detriment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I sleep in a house that feels like a dorm room. When I'm out of it, I feel more free, more me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm scared because everyday I become more and more like the person I swore I'll never be. I see it, they see it. I'm terrified day after day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. The absence of love in my dorm room makes me selfish with outside love. I'm so numb at being wrong that I oftentimes do what I want to do, thinking that if I don't get that love instantly, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. I have never been officially single since 2000.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I look at the accounts of those people that I miss a lot. I don't want them to know that I check them though because I want them to check mine first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there. No judging, please. Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-9060604981553189329?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/9060604981553189329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=9060604981553189329&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/9060604981553189329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/9060604981553189329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/04/post-secrets-ii.html' title='Post Secrets II'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-3043431039974286441</id><published>2008-03-12T13:22:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T13:24:57.313+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Missies of Pinoy's Rich and Famous</title><content type='html'>http://delfindjmontano.blogspot.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sad, sad tale of Pinoy elites.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-3043431039974286441?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/3043431039974286441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=3043431039974286441&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3043431039974286441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3043431039974286441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/03/missies-of-pinoys-rich-and-famous.html' title='Missies of Pinoy&apos;s Rich and Famous'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-3380770577213330294</id><published>2008-03-03T18:13:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T18:18:32.104+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Too fast, too furious</title><content type='html'>Just when I thought I was okay. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when I thought today was just a rest day, two companies suddenly called me for more job offers. I hate, hate it. What to do? I want to accept Unilab too?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-3380770577213330294?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/3380770577213330294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=3380770577213330294&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3380770577213330294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3380770577213330294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/03/too-fast-too-furious.html' title='Too fast, too furious'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-8910117493903011243</id><published>2008-02-24T22:18:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T07:31:02.836+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Learn it, live it, love it.</title><content type='html'>All my life I've been wondering what my job would be the moment I’m done with college. Like many others, I've always had my preferences. I don't want a job that would eat me totally. A great job, for me, may require some overtimes here and there, but it shouldn't stop me from doing my own things. A great job's salary should compensate the workload assigned because then the company should've just hired another person to do the other extended tasks. A fantastic company should give its employees fast, or at least steady, opportunities to grow because that is a sign of the company's growth as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first worked for Tyler as a part time stylist because I wanted to. I love clothes, I love them on people, I love them on me. The people I met were terribly amazing, fasyon, couture, lovely, and adorable. The relationships I made with the people and the people I styled are irreplaceable. The job was not so much of a challenge as I first thought it would be because even during stressful moments, I knew I was doing something I loved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working for Tyler made me more idealistic when it comes to my very first real job. Tyler was a hobby, not a job, anyway.  There have been a lot of interviews and screening processes from different companies within the last 2 months but Splash Corpation's offer was the most compatible with my own Career Objectives. God, I hope I made the right decision. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to the Management Trainee Program because from what I’ve heard, I was the only person to be assigned to the Marketing Department after training, making me the only trainee lucky enough to handle one Splash product after the program. The others were assigned at Production, Sales, or Finance. I can't wait to show them all I've got.  I can’t wait to apply everything I’ve learned  from all the lessons, seminars, trainings, and real-life life experiences in the tasks that I will be doing.  I've waited and prepared for this my whole life, I hope I don't fuck it up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John Nip Cua (Former PnG President) once said during our training days at MarkProf: "Love your job and you'll never work the rest of your life." I can't wait to work. It's too exciting I can't keep it to myself!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-8910117493903011243?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/8910117493903011243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=8910117493903011243&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8910117493903011243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8910117493903011243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/02/learn-it-live-it-love-it.html' title='Learn it, live it, love it.'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-4374075707259374507</id><published>2008-01-14T23:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T00:05:21.718+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Im claiming 2008 as MY year of years!</title><content type='html'>Things to look forward to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Management Training Program at Splash Corporation. How can I resist? I'm gonna be dumb if I let the opportunity pass. Great job, good position, greaatt salary. I can't wait. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Agora Awards results on Feb. If ever I get the award, I can literally die. I'm willing to trade all of my Marketing awards just to get one. Ay, wait, probably not. Basta, all I want is that for this year. I hope I get it.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't completed all the requirements yet. I'll probably do that on Thursday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- My condo. My parents are buying me one, that's sure already. My mom said: "Ginagawa namin to para makapag-simula ka na sa future mo." Funny. They were to buy one at the Fort already (thinking that I'll be working at Makati) but now that I want to work for Splash (located at Mindanao Ave), they're probably buying me a condo somewhere else. OR they could just buying me another big thing (A car would be great ahem)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Maroon Five concert. Come on Vamvi! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Sept 17. Since I lost my phone last year on the day of my birthday, I was not able to celebrate it. This year, I'm gonna make sure that there's a big celebration. One that people will not forget. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Out of the country trips with friends and family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- More out of town adventures with the people I loove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- A new laptop. My dad just bought my second one last year with the whole highest level of Vista thing plus other cool specs that I don't really use. Now that I'm working, my dad said that I'd have to give it my brother since his laptop crashed AGAIN just recently. I'm gonna get one in Splash naman daw e. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- My updated Ipod. Haha! It's such a  high knowing that you're Ipod is updated. I crashed my Ipod early last year that's why it took me awhile to put almost all of my favorites. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- A better body. It's about time I become very serious with my health. When I start working again, I'll make sure I eat healthy and drink healthy. Wait, maybe the I'd have to pass sa drinking healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VuhVye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-4374075707259374507?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/4374075707259374507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=4374075707259374507&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4374075707259374507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4374075707259374507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/01/im-claiming-2008-as-my-year-of-years.html' title='Im claiming 2008 as MY year of years!'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-2898260878722862016</id><published>2008-01-08T11:34:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T11:44:30.829+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Pinoy Third World</title><content type='html'>I love my country. I'm staying here because I love it here. Gorgeous beaches, warm, friendly people, fiestas left and right, cheap clothes, cheap standards of living in fact!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This video, however, sums up everything I hate about Pinas: non-sense everyday crimes, prevalence of drugs and lack of education. It's entertaining, I swear. Too entertaining, however, that we fail to find solutions for the problems considering that they've become somewhat normal and even funny already. Grabe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vvrrooom vvrroomm! Watch it and enjoy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ym8nSJF4QAk&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ym8nSJF4QAk&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&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/9018991-2898260878722862016?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/2898260878722862016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=2898260878722862016&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2898260878722862016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2898260878722862016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2008/01/pinoy-third-world.html' title='Pinoy Third World'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-127027061530101914</id><published>2007-12-27T23:15:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T12:46:07.624+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Karen recommends.</title><content type='html'>FOR THE FIRST TIME, just so you know! I'm definitely not techie and I really don't believe in recommending people the clothes that I like (Because 1. I'm selfish and I want to wear something different from that of the others 2. I believe in finding one's uniqueness through his/her clothes making other people's suggestions a LITTLE irrelevant) that is why do not expect anything related to innovation or retail here. These are the items/locations that I've found interesting, effective, and genius in the past month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Cream Silk Precision Repair Treatment&lt;br /&gt;One of the best features that I've had since birth was my hair and I was always proud of it. Sadly though, I've had too many haircuts and too many right and wrong hair colors done in my hair enough for it to be damaged this much. Don't get me wrong, it still looks nice (bleahahaha!) but I just knew that something was different the minute I dyed my hair black. I kept on complaining how it became sad-looking and lifeless to people simply because it's like not having a cellphone for a month. My aunt gave me a box of that Cream Silk Precision Repair Treatment and my God, &lt;em&gt;repair kung repair&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You just have to use it once a week. Must I say, one try was enough for me to get hooked. I'm really going to use it again. It brought back my love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Splash Corporation's Baby Spa Liquid Powder&lt;br /&gt;This product is genius. I'm giving this to my preggy friend. FINALLY, a company realizes that loose powder is terribly bad for babies! This liquid powder is perfect because it nourishes and protects the baby at the same time. It comes in different scents to! I think I'll try all actually. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. TALC&lt;br /&gt;Okay, fine I said there's nothing fashion-related here but Talc is so cool (I can't believe I used that term) that I just have to say it. They have the most gorgeous and fun bags that you'll ever see. I have the "Seoul" one thanks to my Momma Alexa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Laptop sleeves/bags/envelopes&lt;br /&gt;Laptops are definite must-haves now that is why it's important for someone to buy a a protector for your laptop that would look good anywhere, anytime too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Belle de Jour &lt;br /&gt;This planner is fit for all the Sex and the City girls out there. Other than the fact that I know the owner of this planner (Hi Dar!) and that I'm so amazed by how much her product has gained market through the years, I think that this planner is Cosmo mag made more organized. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Gloria Jean's Planner&lt;br /&gt;For the not so kikay, I prefer this planner. The Starbucks planner has become so overrated and yucky through the years that buying it is kinda useless already. The Gloria Jean's planner is perfect for highschool-college people. It's really cool inside. While the Starbucks planner has Deviant art-ish pictures of coffee and coffee shops in between months inside, Gloria Jean's has pop-art. I love love love it. I'm so happy my dad gave me one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Bobby's File Case/Trapper Keeper&lt;br /&gt;I honestly don't know what it's called but it's like a trapper keeper with flaps inside where you can put all your files/handouts/important documents. On the side, there's space and pouches for all your necessities like pens, post its, Ipods, etc. It's really cool 'cause the skin's all leather and it's sold for ONLY Php450. They have it in different colors - pastels, neutral, etc. I'm excited for the Gold, Bronze and Silver edition. I want the bronze one. But if Bobby follows my animal skin ideas, I'll buy either the zebra or the leopard print.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so proud of my brother. It was supposed to be solely for his LS project but it got so famous and big in Ateneo that he's been negotionating with Fully Booked already because they want to sell his products as well. For inquiries, please message me at my Tagboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Gossip Girl&lt;br /&gt;Ugh, so ditsy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Ugly Betty&lt;br /&gt;Okay, my frieds have been watching this since the first episode but I only had the chance to watch this just recently. It's so addicting. Betty is soooooo adorable and irritating at the same time. I love Amanda, she's such a typical blonde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. 77 Cafe at Kamuning for QC people and 19th Bar and Grill for South people&lt;br /&gt;They both have the same feel - cozy. Both establishments serve delish food and alcohol like others. What I love about these two places are their homey setups. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current bands play at the 19th Bar and Grill. I don't know if 77 does the same thing but as far as I know, it just plays music fit for chilling (wataword).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. F*art &lt;br /&gt;Indicated by the name itself, F*art is a fusion of fashion and art. Conveniently located in the heart of Quezon City, near ABS-CBN and GMA-7 studios, it is where young, fast-rising fashion designers and artists showcase their creations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F*ART offers funky fashionable finds fit for fun Filipinos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Fashion ART anything is possible and what you imagine is within your reach. That is because Fashion ART allows you to interact with Filipino fashion designers and artists so you can customize the products you really want to have, according to your taste and needs. That’s right because Fashion and ART is a place where young, fast rising Filipino fashion designers and artists showcase their freshest creations. Fashion and ART offers funky fashionable finds fit for fun fab Filipinos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's cool to spend the whole day there and experience all the interesting goodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Mr. Kebab&lt;br /&gt;I don't know anyone who hasn't been to this place yet (not that I asked everyone I know if they've been to Kebab). This place will always be my favorite. There's a runner up though - Grilled Tomato at Tomas Morato.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Piedra, Fort&lt;br /&gt;For that fun night of Hifhof and RnB. It's where I usually have fun with my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Inihaw na Chicken at Chicken Boy, Xavierville&lt;br /&gt;They're not called Chicken Boy for nothing :) Eat it with Bacolod rice and you're solved for the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Bath and Body Works' Warm Vanilla Lotion&lt;br /&gt;It can work wonders. A person can be addicited to this smell in a second, I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Olay Total Effects&lt;br /&gt;I've been using it for more than a year now and must I say, I've never had any complaints. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Colloidal Lotion&lt;br /&gt;For the very very very dry skin, use colloidal lotion. Trust me, I've had my own taste of going to the derma because I shaved my legs the wrong way causing my legs to dry (up to a point when it looked like a snake skin! can you believe that?!) and itch. When my derma gave me this colloidal lotion and that other lotion whose name I completely forgot. They are really effective. My ugly skin was gone in days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colloidal lotion, from what I've heard, is a combination of fats and some other ingredients needed to make lotions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There. Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-127027061530101914?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/127027061530101914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=127027061530101914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/127027061530101914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/127027061530101914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/12/karen-recommends.html' title='Karen recommends.'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-1647141685003207710</id><published>2007-12-26T15:58:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T23:39:34.066+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrap up</title><content type='html'>This year was the most intense, exciting, and fulfilling year of my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't usually do year-end summaries but this year is so exceptional that I just have to write about it. 2007 was a year of firsts and a year of lasts, a year for things to finally happen, and a year for old things to develop into new ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one's taken from a survey my friend Ria answered too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Did you fall in love?&lt;br /&gt;I always do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Did you get any new best friends?&lt;br /&gt;I’m lucky that I was able to keep all the friends that are worth treasuring. Meeting new friends are wonderful, I must say. I’ve met quite a lot this year and I’m very thankful for them but I’m more thankful for those who stayed. Adults are right, 'the older you get, the less true friends you have'. I'm still lucky to have true friends to keep me happy and (sometimes) sane, thank God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Did you start disliking someone?&lt;br /&gt;I hate disliking someone this bad but I guess I do hate someone right now, I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Did you get your heart broken?&lt;br /&gt;Yes and I'd rather not talk about it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. If you could change something about this past year, what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Are you happy of how things turned out?&lt;br /&gt;I am more than grateful for everything's that happened. I love my life because of 2007. I'm pretty sure that I'm more mature and more driven this year. It feels so good to know that you're assured of your future because you're on the right track to personal success/happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Did you get any thing pierced? Where?&lt;br /&gt;Other than my normal ears and navel piercings, I haven't had any yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What's your new favorite color(s)?&lt;br /&gt;Blue will always be my favorite color. It makes me think of the sky and the beach everytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Did you do anything life changing?&lt;br /&gt;I joined MarkProf Foundation's search for the Top25 Marketing Trainees for 2007 plus I've been recently nominated for an Agora Award. I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Favorite piece of clothing?&lt;br /&gt;Oh God, I don't know where to start. I've been collecting dresses for the past months so I guess Im inlove with all of them. I'm addicted to my scarves and my big fasyon tops although I think I'm wearing them less from now on because I can't monitor my weight with those clothes. I love my grey tights too. They're so cute :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now starting to collect officey clothes. It's not really my preffered type but I have to buy because society dictates that of me. Good thing my dad pays for all of it. He's soo cute. He's into buying me Zara and Tyler clothes because he wants me looking all professional. Haha! I love you, Papa, and thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Did you go to any parties?&lt;br /&gt;Tsss, there was a time when I haven't seen my family for months because of parties/booze sessions. Before, they'd complain about the fact that I'm never home but they joke about it now. I'm trying to catch up on the things that I've missed out on (like regular Sunday reunions with cousins) that is why I TRY my best to lessen the going-out-routine-every-night thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Did you have any surgeries?&lt;br /&gt;How I wish. Im so open to cosmetic surgeries that is why when I have enough money to pay for my own surgeries, I'll have my legs and arms done in an instant. Oh and I'll try getting those deep dimples that I've wanted for so long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Do you like our president?&lt;br /&gt;I don't really give a crap, to tell you honestly. The Philippine Government has always been so fucked up that to care for it is kind of useless already, in my opinion. In fact, I pledged to my family that I'll only get my Voter's Id when Bayani Fernando runs for President. I really hope he does. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Do you support our troops?&lt;br /&gt;I do not care at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Did you get engaged/married?&lt;br /&gt;Im too young to get engaged/married. I'm gonna marry when I'm sure of my extravagant future already. Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. How many bf/gf's did you have?&lt;br /&gt;Around 8, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. What's your favorite thing you got for christmas last year?&lt;br /&gt;Post Secrets book from Ley, shopping spree from my dad, and the Ipod case that Bobby gave me. Oh and DORA doll 'cause I look like her daw :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What's the thing you want the most this year for Christmas?&lt;br /&gt;Assurance and piece of mind. And that black and gold hoope earrings that I saw the other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Has anybody you loved passed away?&lt;br /&gt;Nada, fortunately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. How's school going so far?&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally done with college! Imagine, after 5 years!! Im proud to say though that I graduated with honors and that I graduated from a course that I'm totally inlove with. I can't wait to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Did you get any pets this year?&lt;br /&gt;Nope. I want a dolphin when I'm super rich but for now, I think I want another Hammy (a hamster). I miss him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Did you have any "new" members added to your family?&lt;br /&gt;Haha, I don't think we're that viable to have another one added to our family. Indirectly, however, I think Len, our maid, who has been really sweet and wonderful for the past 3 months is the new addition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. What's your favorite song?&lt;br /&gt;Crank dat! Kidding! I don't know. I have so many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Who's your favorite band?&lt;br /&gt;Fallout Boy, Vertical Horizon, Incubus, Maroon Five, The Fray, Death Cab, Rooney, Something Corporate, Matchbox 20, etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Favorite person in your family?&lt;br /&gt;Dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Have you had a job?&lt;br /&gt;I've been a stylist 3 times for the past year and I loved every minute of it. 7 months for Tyler, 3 days for the Globe event, and 2 days for La Copa, Fort. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Have you been arrested?&lt;br /&gt;Haha, there's so need for that! I'm crazy but not stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Have you been in trouble?&lt;br /&gt;All the time. I'm always in trouble, I swear. But it's all good! Being in trouble makes day to day activities more fun and exciting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Have you thought about suicide/murder?&lt;br /&gt;Before, but it was like a 30-second commercial in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Are you emo?&lt;br /&gt;Haha, a loot of times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Favorite trend of the year?&lt;br /&gt;Tights and indie films! Plus long necklaces. It's really wonderful to find one long necklace that is totally different from all the others that are usually sold in Greenhills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. What decade do you wish you could live in?&lt;br /&gt;My decade! It's so full of everything plus the people are less traditional and more carefree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Do you have a crush on someone?&lt;br /&gt;Wow, it's been a long time since I've encountered the term CRUSH. NOw that I think about it, I don't know if I've had one in months OR years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. New Year's resolution?&lt;br /&gt;Lose the fat, get a nice job, give more and demand less, try going to events on time, and be honest to people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-1647141685003207710?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/1647141685003207710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=1647141685003207710&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1647141685003207710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1647141685003207710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/12/wrap-up.html' title='Wrap up'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-1515188181098334988</id><published>2007-12-20T14:54:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T14:57:29.856+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Unbubbly</title><content type='html'>Makes me crinkle my nose&lt;br /&gt;Where ever it goes&lt;br /&gt;I always know&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-1515188181098334988?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/1515188181098334988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=1515188181098334988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1515188181098334988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1515188181098334988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/12/unbubbly.html' title='Unbubbly'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-1581466546697393448</id><published>2007-12-18T01:22:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T01:48:06.562+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleigh bells ring, ARE YOU LISTENING?</title><content type='html'>It's the very first Christmas time that I don't feel that Merry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You say "sana karmahin ako", I say you don't know how much I gave up for you that I think I deserve something more than just that line. I'm not saying this to make you feel thankful / grateful that I gave up things for you coz I did that without your influence but I hope you know that I started counting on you the day I made that decision. I think I deserve something more than "Bat kita aalagaan? Malaki ka na, kaya mo na alagaan sarili mo Kar. Di ka dapat umaasa sakin." Why can't I?!?!?! What the hell is the point if I can't actually count on you!?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I heard the most hurtful things that any special person can tell me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You say I'm selfish, I say you've known that ever since we became a couple actually. My selfishness was never an issue to you before, why is it such a big deal now?! I thought you love/d me for being so demanding and so needy, what's the difference with then and now?! One tip honey, you get into a relationship with one person because you love that person for who he/she is, and not for who he/she can become.  You're trying to turn me into someone Im not by making me understand that you cant fucking come to me when Im sick because you wanna buy car parts. You compare with your officemates and accuse me of being less of a girlfriend as compared to them. You tell me that Im the only reason why you feel that way about yourself when, in fact, I have no intentions of doing that to you at all. I am hurt, I hope you know that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you to the people who are always there for me whenever needed. I ALWAYS LOVE YOU, NO MATTER WHAT. Zham-fong LOVE TO YOU, DARLING!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-1581466546697393448?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/1581466546697393448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=1581466546697393448&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1581466546697393448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1581466546697393448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/12/sleigh-bells-ring-are-you-listening.html' title='Sleigh bells ring, ARE YOU LISTENING?'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-741104698000203435</id><published>2007-12-10T00:58:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T02:26:31.230+09:00</updated><title type='text'>'Tis the Season</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/R1wRPP4SxsI/AAAAAAAAAEA/2z_eGp56hDU/s1600-h/IMG_3893.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/R1wRPP4SxsI/AAAAAAAAAEA/2z_eGp56hDU/s400/IMG_3893.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142003828208617154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tis the season, really :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everythings's been great for me this year, thanks to those lucky stars. It's that time of the year once again, the time of gift giving, hot chocos, endless fasyon parties and guiltless shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Christmas wishlist for this year is totally blank. Not that I don't want anything at all, I just don't know if I want something that specific right now (kaw kasi bambi e). I feel like I've got every material thing that I could actually want (I havent been to the malls yet so maybe that would change). I'm focusing more on the things that I'm giving to my dearly beloveds. I want them to get something special, unexpected, unique, and spectacular this holiday season from me. I want them to be happy. In fact, I wish everyone's happy this Christmas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a fast year and to be honest, I barely realized that the year's coming to an end once again. From the Arcadia suprise party to Cyler gift giving (I miss you, Cyler) to losing / gaining friends to Lara's Crowne moments to Bora with the bitches to Tagaytay mis/adventures to sudden Puerto moments to Laiya debuts to LaCopa moments to Playa, Calatagan to bestfriends' graduations to pick-a-fight moments to stressful thesis nights to everyday drinking (at Xavierville, Grilled Tomato, Katip, Tomas, 77 Cafe) to Piedra nights to Holiday Inns to homecomings to I heart Katipunan to Ponte Fino Batangas to sucky retreats to Wii moments to high school reunions to Graduation pictures and write-ups to happy halloweens to going back to black hair (but shifting again to brown soon) to MarkProf to Subic Adventures to dolphin loving to double graduation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year was a year of great movies, impulsive (and sometimes unnecessary) closet filling, beach loving, booze overflowing, awards winning, network expansion, and love never-ending. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait for the next round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night marked the end of our MarkProf training. The theme of the program was: "Top 25 Marketing Trainees: Ready for the World". Am I really? It's so scary for me. I dreaded the day the training would end coz it means that I finally finally have to face the real world and look for a job, support myself, and save my own money. I'm scared of the unknown and the unfamiliar. Last night, however, reassured me that I am actually ready and that I can take on any challenges that come my way. I celebrated that realization. I celebrated not only the idea of being one of the best Marketing trainees in the country, but I also celebrated the person that I could be someday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I make my parents proud, my country thankful, and myself happy and contented. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;---&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-741104698000203435?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/741104698000203435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=741104698000203435&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/741104698000203435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/741104698000203435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/12/tis-season.html' title='&apos;Tis the Season'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/R1wRPP4SxsI/AAAAAAAAAEA/2z_eGp56hDU/s72-c/IMG_3893.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-7882001298361596140</id><published>2007-11-04T21:14:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T22:28:19.918+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Booyah</title><content type='html'>I miss them. I miss hanging out with them doing nothing. Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-7882001298361596140?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/7882001298361596140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=7882001298361596140&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7882001298361596140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7882001298361596140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/11/booyah.html' title='Booyah'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5671283822789519929</id><published>2007-10-30T00:50:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T00:59:53.471+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Results are out!</title><content type='html'>Karen Sangalang: Ranking = #1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A text from my dad: "Congratulations. I'm very impressed, keep it up"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still can't believe it. Out of the Top25 of the Philippines, I was #1 for the first week. 6 weeks more to prove to myself and to others that I can really be someone great. I have to work harder for the next week. I know the others will be more competitive than ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God be the glory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5671283822789519929?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5671283822789519929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5671283822789519929&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5671283822789519929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5671283822789519929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/10/results-are-out.html' title='Results are out!'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-6679254796905254276</id><published>2007-10-29T01:45:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T02:23:30.009+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Ray of Light</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;The crazy ones are those who think that they can rule the world. More often than not, they are the ones who do.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to my previous DepartmentHead, Marketing people are innately crazy. Ding Salvador, another founder of MarkProf said that the 25 trainees for 2007 are all crazy for joining the program. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, I am crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to change the world, too, like most crazy people do, and I know I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day was our first training day for MarkProf. My God, everyone was so competitive. I kinda expected that already, though. We were branded as "The Dream Team of New Marketers" anyway so I knew that the people with me would be wanting that valedictorian spot on graduation day. I've never met a group of people more thirsty for glory and to tell you honestly, I feel so honored to be with a group that is so driven and goal-oriented. Healthy competition is always nice. I just hope it'll remain healthy come December.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 1st trainor was the 1st Filipino Pres. of P&amp;G. The second was Mr. Josiah Go and the third was from Unilever. I was amazed with Josiah's intelligence but was overwhelmed by Dondi's (from Unilever)creativity and imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm more Dondi than Josiah. I'm more on the creative side of Marketing. I'm good with the other parts but brand conceptualizing and the likes are my forte. Out of the three trainors, it was with Dandi that I felt most inspired. I want to be like him. I want to be him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to change the country, if not the world, through my ideas. I have so many of them that I just can't wait to start working already. I want my ideas to have an impact to the people. I want my ideas to demand attention and create a revolution. My goal is to effectively market brands that will be assigned to me by my future supervisor and at the same time allow people to see, realize, and discover a part of themselves in the brands that I will market. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that it's not right to block yourself from the possibilities of seeing other horizons but I can't help sealing myself in the world of Marketing. It is my calling that is why I'm gonna do everything to excel in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note to self:&lt;br /&gt;-review for next week's topic in order to be ahead of others&lt;br /&gt;-research on the case study&lt;br /&gt;-do homework about Blue Ocean Strategy&lt;br /&gt;-book Bora tickets  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-6679254796905254276?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/6679254796905254276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=6679254796905254276&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6679254796905254276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6679254796905254276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/10/ray-of-light.html' title='Ray of Light'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-4652941578855396489</id><published>2007-10-21T14:42:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T14:44:49.521+09:00</updated><title type='text'>STC (Stop The Crap)</title><content type='html'>Dear fellow Theresians,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to share with you what happened to my cousin Janthina Pamela "Janpi" Oliveros, daughter of my tita Osang Jopson - Oliveros (HS 77). Janpi is a 4th year student at STC. She has been consistently on top of her batch the past 3 years, and the top candidate for valedictorian until this case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sharing this with everyone because I feel that she was not given due process by the high school administrators. As a former Theresian, I cannot just sit and not do anything about what they did to Janpi. The Theresian community including the alumni ought to know about this. Although she's not interested to go back to STC anymore, I feel we have to do something to stop this from happening again to another student of our dear alma matter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please take note that Janpi, #1 in the batch is class president, model student, dance prod director, etc. Alison Bayle her classmate is #6 in the batch. She is the daughter of Mrs. Teresa Bayle HS Principal. She is a goddaughter of Mrs. Sacdalan and a some of the 4th year HS teachers.. Who wouldn't think this happened because they are desperate for Alison to be valedictorian. OR ELSE WHY NOT GIVE JANPI HER DAY IN COURT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please read on, this is her account of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Janthina Pamela Jopson Oliveros a 4th year student of STC. I have been accused by the high school administration of committing forgery. The whole process was very traumatic for me. I am writing this letter to present my side of the story in the hope that these things would not happen to any other student again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was last March 2007 after classes had ended that Mrs. Guinevere Sacdalan, the coordinator of PEHM and head of the Young People Management office, called us for a two-day planning session to prepare for our dance production. The director, costume designer, script writer, and music in-charge of each class were called. During that planning session we chose the music for our production, made the costumes designs, assigned the sectors to represent, and finalized the order of presentation for the Family Day. Everything was done except for the dance itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last August, I asked my PE teacher Mrs. Josefina Yalong if I could borrow our costume designs because we, the directors for the dance production, were already asked to assign the character and costume for each person in the class. When I got the costumes during dismissal time, almost half of the class were still inside the classroom. They saw the costume designs for the first time and there were a lot of violent reactions: they said it was ugly, it was not appropriate, the skirts were too short, there should be no sleeves, they don't want to wear shorts, etc. They wanted almost all costume designs to be changed by our costume designer Dianne. I said to them that it couldn't be done anymore because Mrs. Sacdalan had already signed each costume design. Someone from the group shouted "Edi i-forge" other classmates suggested "I-scan nalang!" "I-photo copy!" I was in a hurry to go home that time because it was raining so I just said, "Cge bahala na kayo diyan" and&lt;br /&gt;left the costume designs with my classmates because I was assured that Dianne would keep the costume designs since it was she who made those. Classes were suspended the next day, and we had a long weekend. Sunday night, I even texted Dianne so she wouldn't forget to bring the costume designs because I was already going to submit them to Mrs Sacdalan. The next day during homeroom period, our class adviser Mrs. Rhodora Formalejo gave us time to discuss about our dance production. So I got the designs from Dianne and went in front of the classroom to show it to the class. While showing the designs, I noticed that two costumes were already changed just as what my classmates suggested the previous week. I just continued showing them, and since not all of my classmates were there the previous week when I first got the costumes, a lot saw the costumes for the first time and there were violent reactions again. Alison Bayle, the daughter of our principal, and script writer of our&lt;br /&gt;class, even wanted another costume to be changed but I said it couldn't be done anymore since a lot of the costumes were already changed. Someone from the class asked to see the designs so I gave them, and the designs were passed around the class. Some of my classmates, especially our choreographers, were already talking to Dianne asking her to change and alter the designs once more. Since Dianne was seated beside one of our choreographers, Isabelle, she was forced to adhere to the changes they wanted. During recess time, I saw Dianne inside the classroom busy doing something. A lot of my classmates were walking around the classroom, so I went to look at what Dianne was doing and I saw that she was busily cramming another costume. After she finished drawing the costume, she forged Mrs Sacdalan's signature, and smudged it with ink. I was just standing there watching her, and I said "Dianne, masyado ka na mahahalata nyan." It was so obvious since she even smudged the&lt;br /&gt;forged signature. So I got the design and tried to rub it off but it was done with ink so there's nothing I could do about it. I was called by Mrs Sacdalan after recess, so I hurriedly got the costumes and placed it on her desk in her office. I didn't tell her that our costume designer changed and forged her signature since I didn't want Dianne to be the one punished because she was just forced by the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch, Mrs Sacdalan already knew what Dianne had done, and Dianne was called for in the office. She was made to write an incident report, and she wrote a short report that says it was I, the director of the class, who forced her to change and forge the signature. I was also called to Mrs Sacdalan's office. While on the way to the office I asked Mrs. Yalong our PE teacher what the problem was. Mrs.Yalong showed me the drawings of the costumes which were changed and told me the signature was forged. Mrs. Yalong asked me what happened. I did not immediately tell them what happened because I was afraid. But when our guidance counsellor Miss Karen talked with me I told her what happened. I was then asked to tell everything to Mrs. Sacdalan. I couldn't remember all the details and all the events that had happened at once. The events were slowly coming back to me as I was trying to recall them when I was asked to tell the story for about three times that one&lt;br /&gt;afternoon. I stayed in Mrs. Sacdalan's office for almost 5 hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dianne and I were never called to the office again. After about two weeks, Mrs Sacdalan already gave me a letter for my parents. They were asked to come to STC and talk to Mrs Sacdalan. After two weeks they were called again, and after one week they were called for the last time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excerpts of the incident reports which Dianne and I wrote were read to them and they were shown the drawings of the costumes which were changed. They were told that an investigation was underway and that they would be called again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the second meeting with my parents, they were told that Dianne was consistent in blaming me and that the administration committee decided that Dianne and I were guilty of forgery. My parents asked whether there was an attempt to make Dianne and I issue our statements face to face in order to flesh out the truth regarding who really asked her to change the costumes. Mrs. Sacdalan said it was not part of their procedures. My parents replied that it was part of due process. My parents also questioned why there were no witnesses interviewed regarding what really happened and why the class was not called to a meeting to really get to the bottom of things. My parents said that majority, if not the whole, class knew most especially the class officers. They also questioned why I was charged with forgery when I did not actually forge any signature and why Dianne and me were meted the same degree of penalty. My parents also questioned the gravity of the penalty on&lt;br /&gt;Dianne and me when it was not done to defraud or cheat the school; but we merely yielded to peer pressure. They asked why it was only the two of us being punished and not the whole class. They even suggested that the penalty should be appropriate to the infraction such as disqualifying the class from the dance production and relieving me of my role as director, and not to judge our whole conduct. My parents also said that my behaviour for the last ten years in STC should have been considered in meting out a penalty. Mrs. Sacdalan said that these would be considered and that they would be called to a meeting again. After a week, they were called to a meeting and were told that the decision was final. My parents felt that all the points they raised were not even considered. And my father threatened to bring the case to court. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The administrative committee of the high school department had made their decision to give me a failing grade in my conduct grade for forgery. That would mean I would lose all the awards and recognitions until I graduate. When I learned that Dianne blamed everything to me, I talked to her and told her that isn't it, it was not I who forced her to change the costumes and forge the signatures? I even have witnesses, classmates who can attest to that because they were there when it happened. Dianne affirmed that it was not my fault. But Mrs Sacdalan claimed to my parents that Dianne was consistent in her statements that it was I who made her change the costumes and forge the signature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the months of August and September after the incident happened and while the investigation was supposedly still underway, my PE teacher was already spreading false stories about me in the faculty room. Mrs. Yalong claimed that I admitted to doing everything and that she felt betrayed. Mrs Sacdalan would make indirect remarks about me during meetings with the directors, choreographers and costume designers such as " O baka mamaya may palitan na naman kayo diyan." I also learned that the admin even made a new rule that students with failing grades in conduct cannot compete in inter-school contests. And for the past year I was already trained and I already competed and won in several contests. My math teacher-trainer was disappointed by this new rule since he already had competitions in mind where he would let me join.&lt;br /&gt;I cried a lot since the whole case began. I dreaded going to school, hearing the side remarks, the false stories and accusations being hurled against me by some of my teachers. After the final decision was made, our family talked about what happened. I cried and told them I do not want to go back to STC again. We discussed all the options and they allowed me not to go to school while they were exploring the options available and while they try to have an audience with the school directress and the provincial superior of ICM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We learned that to strengthen their case against me and attribute a "motive" they twisted facts about what happened during our 4 th year retreat last July. They invented the story of how I was told to inspect the bags of my class and list down those who brought cell phones, which was not allowed during STC activities. They said that I listed the names of all my classmates who brought their phones but purposely left out my name. They claimed that this angered my classmates and to make up I relented to changing the costumes and forged the signatures for the dance production.&lt;br /&gt;But this is not true. What really happened was our Religion teacher Mr. Valencia made a surprise inspection of some of our bags and temporarily confiscated the cell phones of some of my classmates. After the retreat our class adviser Mrs. Rhodora Formalejo called us one by one because she said she felt that there was something wrong or there was an issue with the class. She asked us who brought their cell phones during the retreat. I and my classmates who brought their phones admitted to it. Mrs. Formalejo replied, " O sige sa atin-atin na lang iyon tapos na naman." &lt;br /&gt;I also learned from my classmates that Alison Bayle was spreading gossips and bad things about me to my classmates while I was absent. She was also telling my classmates that Mrs Maria Teresa Bayle our principal was able to talk with some alumni who, she claims, told her that my mother was telling the alumni that I was being forced out of STC. &lt;br /&gt;We also learned that right after the last meeting between Mrs. Sacdalan and my parents, a faculty meeting was called. We learned that our principal and the admin painted a bad picture of me before my 4th year teachers and that because of this, most of my 4th year teachers are angry at me even though I didn't do anything to them. We also learned that Mrs Sacdalan asked my PE and Music teachers to lower my grades for the 2 nd quarter.&lt;br /&gt;We still hear that the gossips and the bad mouthing about me inside the faculty room continue. &lt;br /&gt;I am so devastated by what happened and what is still happening. I really dread going back to STC. For weeks after the incident happened, I would drag myself to school every morning. It's as if everything I worked hard for, for the past 10 years I've been studying in STC was all gone in a snap. I've never had any infraction since Prep, and with that one incident, my life in STC was crushed. I couldn't take it anymore. I have been absent for two weeks, and I didn't take the quarter exams. But my two-week break from school did not lighten my feelings. How can I go back to STC knowing that the principal, the head of the Young People Management office, and majority of my 4th year teachers are angry at me and are bad mouthing me inside the faculty room? &lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless I am still grateful to STC. I have been a scholar during my last three years at high school for being the top of the batch. More importantly, I enjoyed my first nine years at STC and I learned a lot. It has taught me to be responsible, to be concerned about our less fortunate brothers and sisters, and to be God-fearing. It has helped shaped me into who I am today and it has given me the opportunity to develop as a person and as a leader. But what happened is very traumatic for me. I have talked with my classmates recently to clarify the false stories being told about me, to thank them for their support and cooperation, and to tell them that I have enjoyed my time with them. It broke my heart seeing them cry and I cherish the hugs I received from them. Now, I just want to move on and to leave these things behind me. - Janpi Oliveros &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;************ ********* ********* *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not trying to ruin STC by coming out with this story. I just cannot afford to have STC's good name and reputation be ruined by some individuals with personal interests. And of course I feel the alumni ought to know about what happened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Janpi is okay. She has taken college entrance exams in UP, Ateneo and DLSU. My tita has confirmed with DepED that to be eligible for college she just needs to pass the univ entrance and have a high school diploma. She is going to be home schooled til she gets a diploma. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our family regret that Janpi will not graduate in STC. Too bad because she's supposedly my tita Osang's 1st daughter to graduate from STC HS and supposedly a valedictorian at that. Her elder sisters Celina Pia and Katrina Gianina went to STC grade school but graduated in Phil Science HS and QC Science HS respectively. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why didn't they make those involved come face to face to settle the issue? It was really just a simple case which they used to bring Janpi down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would you do if you were in our shoes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Joyette Jopson HS96&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-4652941578855396489?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/4652941578855396489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=4652941578855396489&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4652941578855396489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4652941578855396489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/10/stc-stop-crap.html' title='STC (Stop The Crap)'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-3003831299760938429</id><published>2007-10-14T23:39:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T23:47:46.563+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Grad Wish List</title><content type='html'>Wishing is the first step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;em&gt;Lifetime of Secrets book &lt;/em&gt;- How wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;em&gt;My own Car&lt;/em&gt; - Otherwise, I'm driving Bobby's Mazda 3!&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;em&gt;A new phone&lt;/em&gt; - I miss Cyler&lt;br /&gt;4. That very HSP &lt;em&gt;dress&lt;/em&gt; I saw awhile ago&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;em&gt;Zara / Topshop / Dorothy Perkins Overload&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;em&gt;Grand SURPRISE Grad party&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. &lt;em&gt;My own place&lt;/em&gt; - Whatevs.&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;em&gt;Fab job&lt;/em&gt; - c/o MarkProf already. Whew!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-3003831299760938429?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/3003831299760938429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=3003831299760938429&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3003831299760938429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3003831299760938429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/10/grad-wish-list.html' title='Grad Wish List'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-7601432495546579944</id><published>2007-10-14T22:54:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T23:03:12.609+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Invisible</title><content type='html'>I've never felt more unappreciated my whole life than today. How I wish I didn't do well in my recent activities. At least by then it wouldn't hurt this much. How I wish I didn't give it my all so that when they tell me those hurtful words, it wouldn't hit me this hard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good thing I'm not married to them. Just wait til I get my promising job this December / January. I'll be out in no time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-7601432495546579944?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/7601432495546579944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=7601432495546579944&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7601432495546579944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7601432495546579944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/10/invisible.html' title='Invisible'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5893834894036972904</id><published>2007-09-30T14:09:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T14:18:05.109+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess who's part of the Top 25 Marketing Management Trainees of the Philippines headed by none other than THE Josiah Go!?!?!?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greatest achievement of my life so far! LIFE IS SO GOOD TO ME. To God, be the glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://markprof.org/home/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rv8xUxmvy0I/AAAAAAAAAD4/3jz9uSWcEJM/s1600-h/2007%2520poster%2520jpeg%2520v2%2520small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rv8xUxmvy0I/AAAAAAAAAD4/3jz9uSWcEJM/s400/2007%2520poster%2520jpeg%2520v2%2520small.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115861934699170626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5893834894036972904?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5893834894036972904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5893834894036972904&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5893834894036972904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5893834894036972904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/09/guess-whos-part-of-top-25-marketing.html' title='Guess who&apos;s part of the Top 25 Marketing Management Trainees of the Philippines headed by none other than THE Josiah Go!?!?!?!?!?!'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rv8xUxmvy0I/AAAAAAAAAD4/3jz9uSWcEJM/s72-c/2007%2520poster%2520jpeg%2520v2%2520small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-8065062928234961382</id><published>2007-09-11T22:14:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T12:11:30.416+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Law of Sacrifice: You can't give everything to everybody</title><content type='html'>I learned that "law" during a Marketing competition that I joined last weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, I am part of the top hundred up and coming Marketers of the Philippines and I am so proud of it! Thing is, so is my YOUNGER brother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, he joined the same competition and I knew about it only days before the 2nd phase. I hated the idea of him being there. I hated the idea of me being so scared that I might lose my chances of becoming part of the last batch standing because of him. Why does he even have to consider the idea of joining a competition that is so MINE? Or so I think it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's always been VERY successful in all his endeavors. He's running for suma cum laude. He holds top positions in all his organizations. He won almost all the competitions that he's been into during his whole stay in Ateneo. He has organized countless successful events such as parties, fashion shows, etc PLUS everybody loves him. What's worse is that I do too. Hard as it may be for me to admit the idea, I know I do love him and that I am so proud of everything that he has accomplished. In fact, during emo moments, I feel so proud to be his sister. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the night before the 2nd phase of the competition, I despised him. I can't accept that he's gonna be part of someting that I've been wanting to have for months. I was such a chicken shit because I knew that he could actually be part of the chosen group. I knew then that I had to do everything I could to win, not against all the other participants, but against my own brother. Losing is hard enough, but losing while you're brother gets accepted was so unacceptable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything changed when he started doing all those sweet gestures during the competition. "Good luck, ate" "Tabi ka nalang sakin" "Good luck! :)" Ugh! He's so good at that that I just couldn't resist! What's worse is that I knew he was sincere. I hate it. I like it. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did my best and I am very sure he did his part too. I feel less selfish now that's why I'm ready to actually say this: I'm fine as long as one of us gets in the Top 25. If it's the two of us who are chosen, then lucky us. I am proud of how far we've come in terms of our goals in life and I hope that we'll both be successful in our chosen fields. Next time though, let me know about the competitions that you'll be joining so that I can join too. Boo yah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-8065062928234961382?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/8065062928234961382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=8065062928234961382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8065062928234961382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8065062928234961382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/09/law-of-sacrifice-you-cant-give.html' title='Law of Sacrifice: You can&apos;t give everything to everybody'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-6485886436453446268</id><published>2007-08-30T22:09:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T02:07:20.202+09:00</updated><title type='text'>I haven't slept with a falloutboy so all I got is this blog</title><content type='html'>Here's an UPDATED list of self-realizations. Im looking forward to reading this 10 years after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I've been to a lot of super expensive restaurants here and abroad but nothing beats the taste of fast food and good 'ol Mr. Kebab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Nice clothes make me really happy but unique,lovely pieces from ukay ukay give me that unexplainable high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm obsessed with plucking, fixing my bedsheet (making them so crisp is so addictive, and organizing my Ipod (titles should all be in small letters, etc.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I thought I didn't like watching TV but when I finally had one in my room, I was hooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I may not seem like it but I actually love alternative and punk music. They make me steady happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Pink looks best on me than any other color. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I can never be on a strict diet. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I am better than I actually think I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. The only people who could actually make me laugh my heart out are Conan O Brien, my bestfriend Ning, Melo Jose, Ramon Bautista, and the famous yet non-existent Ben.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I can never walk on icky, rocky, lumot-y, wet floors. Ugh. Thinking about it makes me shiver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I am one jealous girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I will never age. I just know it. I have a heart of a hippie!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-6485886436453446268?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/6485886436453446268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=6485886436453446268&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6485886436453446268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6485886436453446268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-havent-slept-with-falloutboy-so-all-i.html' title='I haven&apos;t slept with a falloutboy so all I got is this blog'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5586179610781776115</id><published>2007-08-24T02:27:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T02:44:35.950+09:00</updated><title type='text'>My new job as a Beckham groupie</title><content type='html'>I still consider the Olsen twins as my first love though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rs3GSTCNx3I/AAAAAAAAADQ/wB0U6cp0W5s/s1600-h/normal_OUT921770.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rs3GSTCNx3I/AAAAAAAAADQ/wB0U6cp0W5s/s200/normal_OUT921770.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101951970530150258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't resist loving Victoria Beckham. She's way too adorable! I love her! After watching her "documentary", I was hooked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rs3G6DCNx4I/AAAAAAAAADY/uEhkyB8RS0Q/s1600-h/3971.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rs3G6DCNx4I/AAAAAAAAADY/uEhkyB8RS0Q/s200/3971.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101952653429950338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rs3HDDCNx5I/AAAAAAAAADg/IXPAxCwYkn8/s1600-h/3968.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rs3HDDCNx5I/AAAAAAAAADg/IXPAxCwYkn8/s200/3968.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101952808048773010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rs3HNDCNx6I/AAAAAAAAADo/-ABGLUxkDWE/s1600-h/3973.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rs3HNDCNx6I/AAAAAAAAADo/-ABGLUxkDWE/s200/3973.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101952979847464866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rs3HaTCNx7I/AAAAAAAAADw/yho5MVhbcJg/s1600-h/3970.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rs3HaTCNx7I/AAAAAAAAADw/yho5MVhbcJg/s200/3970.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101953207480731570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need I say more?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5586179610781776115?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5586179610781776115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5586179610781776115&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5586179610781776115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5586179610781776115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-new-job-as-beckham-groupie.html' title='My new job as a Beckham groupie'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rs3GSTCNx3I/AAAAAAAAADQ/wB0U6cp0W5s/s72-c/normal_OUT921770.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-7520838022718381358</id><published>2007-08-24T00:09:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T00:32:26.046+09:00</updated><title type='text'>This ain't a scene, it's a goddamn arms race</title><content type='html'>My friend is getting married and I, along with all others, am very shocked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we that mature enough to engage in such agreements? I don't think so. In fact, I feel so young that I'm finally getting my tattoo after my birthday. Bwaha. My long time idea is finally happening. How mature. Fine, the bride-to-be and I have different lifestyles already but I doubt that we have way different levels of maturity. In fact, I sometimes feel more mature than her when it comes to decisions regarding matters of the heart. But then again, I may be wrong.  Honey, why?!?!?!?! Hinay lang, wag kang papasok sa di mo makakayang labasan pag kailangan na. I better get a superb explanation 'cause otherwise, I won't be believing in that marriage that much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We once danced to Backstreet Boys and Moffatts songs. What happened to the whole "Let's have fun before marrying?"idea? God, I'm scared to even buy a dress that I'm gonna wear for THE (one and only) wedding that's (SUPPOSED TO) happen next year. Come on friends, we are still so young and free! Who would want to let go of that?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am totally tripped out by the whole thing. I can't let go of it that I had to call my in-a-relationship-but-definitely-not-married friend about it.  Good thing she's on my side. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodluck 3cx. Hope you're happy. I will be if you are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-7520838022718381358?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/7520838022718381358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=7520838022718381358&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7520838022718381358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7520838022718381358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/08/this-aint-scene-its-goddamn-arms-race.html' title='This ain&apos;t a scene, it&apos;s a goddamn arms race'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-6394499958309059159</id><published>2007-08-22T11:41:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T14:21:12.018+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall in love with..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RsvHrTCNx2I/AAAAAAAAADI/NGOJU_e2IMI/s1600-h/523-4182005-62211.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RsvHrTCNx2I/AAAAAAAAADI/NGOJU_e2IMI/s400/523-4182005-62211.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101390549585086306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falloutboy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sept. 21, 2007, Araneta Coliseum: It's a date! Thank you Bibi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I CANT WAITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-6394499958309059159?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/6394499958309059159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=6394499958309059159&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6394499958309059159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6394499958309059159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/08/fall-in-love-with.html' title='Fall in love with..'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RsvHrTCNx2I/AAAAAAAAADI/NGOJU_e2IMI/s72-c/523-4182005-62211.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-7026494479246195687</id><published>2007-08-16T23:48:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T00:06:23.969+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Time after time</title><content type='html'>I am sorry for hurting you that much. You don't deserve any of it but I know I just had to tell you sooner or later. There were a lot of things unsaid, a lot of issues not discussed. I must admit, I don't usually give out the secrets of my heart and mind, and I know that's totally unfair to you. I'll be waiting for the next time we're given the chance to talk.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're lost, you can look and you will find me, time after time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-7026494479246195687?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/7026494479246195687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=7026494479246195687&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7026494479246195687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7026494479246195687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/08/time-after-time.html' title='Time after time'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-1949071406663665865</id><published>2007-07-23T23:41:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T00:28:51.883+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Circles</title><content type='html'>I had a realization the other day: The only way for a person to be happier or close to being contented with life and everything else is to be surrounded by different things, experiences, people, etc that make them happy all at the same time. It's not healthy to let yourself be sucked up by one "fulfilling" "self-gratifying" activity, one set of friends, work, etc 'cause in the end, when that so-called dependable thing/person lets you down, you have nowhere to go but back where you started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually envy and have high respects for those who pursue something that they have wanted to do ever since. All I'm saying is that it's nice to have other things going for you too instead of just one, because when certain unexpected and unnecessary things happen, you may not be able to absorb the idea that you'd have to stay away from your obsession for awhile. And when that happens, you'll be going through a difficult detoxification. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"People, people, please!!!" - Raven Ah lav dat layn! The only people that you need in your life are the ones who prove that they need you in theirs. If someone makes you feel like she/he doesn't need you, then you are wasting your time on one person when you could be making another person feel more important. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that life is about taking chances, but life is also about being happy. The more you crave for unnecessary things, the more you'll end up getting frustrated with the world, and then with your life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-1949071406663665865?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/1949071406663665865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=1949071406663665865&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1949071406663665865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1949071406663665865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/07/circles.html' title='Circles'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-4355339598965683692</id><published>2007-07-20T12:16:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T12:18:52.156+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Rise</title><content type='html'>You should believe me&lt;br /&gt;And everything I choose to do&lt;br /&gt;You should believe that I’ll&lt;br /&gt;Always come back to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is discovering&lt;br /&gt;The love that we create&lt;br /&gt;Life is a mystery&lt;br /&gt;We need to embrace&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In every way&lt;br /&gt;You need to let go&lt;br /&gt;You’ll see all your dreams will follow&lt;br /&gt;In every way&lt;br /&gt;You need to let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People rise together&lt;br /&gt;When they believe in tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Change the day to forever&lt;br /&gt;This life keeps movin’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Open your mind and see&lt;br /&gt;We have everything we need&lt;br /&gt;Dream or reality&lt;br /&gt;Fulfill its destiny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In every way&lt;br /&gt;You need to let go&lt;br /&gt;You’ll see all your dreams will follow&lt;br /&gt;In every way&lt;br /&gt;You need to let go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You need to let go…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I miss Tyler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im happy that everything's so easy for me right now. Im on my road to success,I know it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People rise, I rise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-4355339598965683692?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/4355339598965683692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=4355339598965683692&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4355339598965683692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4355339598965683692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/07/rise.html' title='Rise'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-4111622321592092414</id><published>2007-07-13T00:23:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T03:46:56.524+09:00</updated><title type='text'>A Healthier Me</title><content type='html'>I've been doing pilates AND taebo recently and I feel great! Suprisingly! I swear, everything I've read in magazines about how physical activities can actually make a person feel a lot better are actually true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a long time I hated working out 'cause I thought there's no point in sweating that much if you can do something way easier. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. There's pills for the ultimately tamad people who want fast results. I took chances with the diet pills and mind you, they do work. Thing is, diet pills give you fast results but fast comebacks. The moment you stop taking those deceiving pills, all the fats come back with vengeances! I took these diet pills that were so effective people were shocked with the results with only 10 days of trying them. Unfortunately, I was the one shocked 10 days after those 10 days. The moment I stopped taking the pills, I gained every bit of the fats I lost and so much more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, I didn't stop there! I took another set of diet pills. This batch of pills made me say "No more tabs/pills/capsules from now on" (at least for now). My body shaked the whole time and my head throbbed so bad that everytime I took them, it felt like waking up from a drunken party the night before. Well, it said "for obese people" at the back of the box so I guess I'm partly to blame for everything that happened. I mean I think I'm fat but I'm definitely not obese and yet I didn't listen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Of course there's the other type of drugs that people could rely on to for thinner bodies and happier moments. Shabu, cocaine, etc. - I won't go that far anymore, sorry. I only wanna be thinner, not dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Not eating must be the most stupid thing a person can do in order to be thin. First of all, not eating would only make you think of food twice as much as you do normally. Second, thinking of food twice as much would make you double your intake of food. Third, even if you actually fight the urge of eating too much, the moment you munch that favorite food of yours would make you forget you promised not to eat anymore. You'll chug everything in by the time you get to taste one of your favorite foods again.  So much for the so-called discipline. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reasons why I love working out now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. It makes me feel more alive during the day. I'm already way energetic, but working out makes me feel so awake that I get to do more things. More energy mas happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I don't pressure myself to be thin like most people I know. My goal now is to be healthy. Side wishes nalang na I get to be thinner too. All I have to do now is eat healthier and then I'm off for sure to a better me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I get to laugh at myself after doing all those stupid moves and breathing techniques that the instructor wants me to do. "Remember, you have to push your powerhouse up to your ribs as you breathe out to get better results." and "Squeeze those buns as you circle your legs to your back." If only people could see me with my focused face..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Working out makes me glow. I know, I know. I swear, SOME people say I'm glowing right now. Maybe it's because of the workout. Or maybe it's Olay. Oh well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I don't get bored after a few months. I've been pretty consistent and I'm proud of that. I just wish I will be able to keep this up. Who knows, I might get that Jessica Alba body I've been wanting to have. (Tsssss, whatever!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-4111622321592092414?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/4111622321592092414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=4111622321592092414&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4111622321592092414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4111622321592092414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/07/healthier-me.html' title='A Healthier Me'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-2039349738461678217</id><published>2007-07-10T23:20:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T23:28:52.583+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Way back into us</title><content type='html'>No matter how far we all go, we will always go back to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will miss you John Milton. We will always be the classics. It will never be the same without the feeling of you just a text or phone call away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you! The bitches love you! When you come back, gimik bastos na to!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-2039349738461678217?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/2039349738461678217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=2039349738461678217&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2039349738461678217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2039349738461678217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/07/way-back-into-us.html' title='Way back into us'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5790029919796142252</id><published>2007-06-24T23:03:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T00:16:17.637+09:00</updated><title type='text'>30 Activities that make me happy</title><content type='html'>1. Getting a haircut - My short hair gives me that lame excuse to have a haircut even if don't necessarily need it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Putting stuff in my scrapbook / stress reliever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Watching gigs / concerts - I haven't done this in a long time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Shopping for happy clothes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Drinking - It's fun to drink especially when you're with your pep squad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Preparing for my long-awaited graduation - Finally, my last hoorah! Ima make this sweet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Eating - Contradictory to my long-life dream to go on a strict diet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Being surrounded by people - I don't have to be surrounded by friends per say; Seeing other people is enough to make me sane&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Gobil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Going out of town or out of the country&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Attending parties&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Working for Tyler and Aspac Ad Agency&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Starting pilates&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Getting a massage - I AM ALWAYS STRESSED.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Looking at myself in the mirror doing everything imagineable from singing to dancing to crying to talking to acting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Dancing alone in the shower with the music in full blast &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Listening to my happy songs - My Ipod had to be replaced with a new one because of overusage, according to the people in MAC center&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Receiving stuff from people - I am one materialistic person, and I love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Going to Theme Parks &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Swimming&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Sleeping &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Making other people laugh - I'm confident to say that I'm so good at this already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Watching TV Series - Current obsessions include Grey's Anatomy, Heroes, One Tree Hill, L Word&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Taking pictures&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Getting my nails done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Shopping for other people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. Going inside a Party Needs store&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Watching sappy-crappy Tagalog movies - I love movies in general but Tagalog "romantic" movies make me ecstatic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Riding a fast car at night and at a free-flowing road with the windows down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Cleaning my room with my closet as the first priority&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5790029919796142252?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5790029919796142252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5790029919796142252&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5790029919796142252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5790029919796142252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/06/30-activities-that-make-me-happy.html' title='30 Activities that make me happy'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5065727897636000510</id><published>2007-06-15T00:06:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T23:28:15.438+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Ms. Halfway goes all the way</title><content type='html'>But these places and these faces are getting old, so I'm going home to the place where I belong - CLOTHES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I got hold of that magazine that featured people with success stories ages ago, I've had countless attempts to actualize my small dreams with friend/s. &lt;br /&gt;Sure, the passion for the dream mini businesses was so there, but the willingness to finalize the ideas was not present at all. Laziness got the best of us before so now that I'm giving a go signal to this new idea, I'm not letting stupid laziness get in the way again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a good team with me and if ever God tests me with people who will eventually become lazy at the middle of the whole process, I know I can still count on one person to go with me all the way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cross your fingers and wish us luck. It's not gonna be easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m gonna burn, I’m gonna shine and multiply&lt;br /&gt;I’m gonna fill up the great divide&lt;br /&gt;You’ll never break me with all the things you say&lt;br /&gt;“Miss Almost, Miss Maybe, Miss Halfway”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5065727897636000510?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5065727897636000510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5065727897636000510&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5065727897636000510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5065727897636000510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/06/ms-halfway-goes-all-way.html' title='Ms. Halfway goes all the way'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-2197770240260642613</id><published>2007-06-14T01:34:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T02:22:35.144+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Makes You and I Wonder</title><content type='html'>I'm sick of people putting all their doubts on me. I DO NOT LIE ALL THE TIME. My lies are selective. I lie so as not to hurt other people. They are not white lies though. They are lies to prevent me from hurting the people closest to me, plus it makes me get away with the little nasty deeds that I USED to do. You're right, there's no point in lying. So I'll try stopping for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to change that "habit" now. I don't wanna add more CSIs on my list. Can't you see me trying? Don't I get at least an appreciation statement or something? I love you, I always do. I NEVER lie about my feelings, everybody knows that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe when I get to have that chance to be someone else and have a relationship with myself for a month, I'd be terrified and paranoid as hell too. I wouldn't know when and how to believe me when things get too suspicious. I'd check text messages and call registers too. In fact, I'd do everything you do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you oftentimes think that it's way better when we just enjoy our moments together instead of spending too much time interrogating OR fighting over who called me, who texted me, yada yada yada?! It's becoming a bit dragging, just so you know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wanna know how to catch me when I'm lying? Shout at me. I get scared when someone does that to me 'cause it reminds me of my angry mom. Go no holds barred shouting until you feel like you've said all your frustrations. If you're lucky, maybe I'll tell you the truth (assuming I'm lying at that particular moment).  Wanna make sure what I told you was true? Ask the same questions to me after a month. The true answers are the ones that linger in my Dory-ish memory. If I don't give you the same answer, then for I'm sure dead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There. Case closed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-2197770240260642613?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/2197770240260642613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=2197770240260642613&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2197770240260642613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2197770240260642613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/06/makes-you-and-i-wonder.html' title='Makes You and I Wonder'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-8243840759953469834</id><published>2007-06-08T19:02:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T19:27:53.475+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Cupcake</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rmkt8n0GiMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/gTLj2-odXs8/s1600-h/173912569_b00da0b834.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rmkt8n0GiMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/gTLj2-odXs8/s200/173912569_b00da0b834.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073636974712490178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never knew a simple cupcake would make things a lot better. Nice save Sonja!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-8243840759953469834?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/8243840759953469834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=8243840759953469834&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8243840759953469834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8243840759953469834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/06/cupcake.html' title='Cupcake'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rmkt8n0GiMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/gTLj2-odXs8/s72-c/173912569_b00da0b834.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5295780268072669122</id><published>2007-06-06T23:51:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T23:52:43.643+09:00</updated><title type='text'>My Visual DNA</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed allowScriptAccess="never" allowNetworking="internal"  enableJavaScript="false" src="http://dna.imagini.net/friends/swf/widget.swf"  quality="best" bgcolor="#000000" width="340"  height="240" name="widget" align="middle" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"  pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"  flashvars="bgcolor=#000000&amp;i1=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_7ABFFADA.jpeg&amp;c1=&amp;i2=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-630463AC.jpeg&amp;c2=&amp;i3=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-6781E621.jpeg&amp;c3=&amp;i4=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_488D5931.jpeg&amp;c4=&amp;i5=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-536C6BFB.jpeg&amp;c5=&amp;i6=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-3A16A102.jpeg&amp;c6=&amp;i7=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-6514DF33.jpeg&amp;c7=&amp;i8=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-CB873F5.jpeg&amp;c8=&amp;i9=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_631B702E.jpeg&amp;c9=&amp;i10=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_1BCD47AD.jpeg&amp;c10=&amp;i11=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_368EAF3E.jpeg&amp;c11=&amp;i12=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_-5DD0E519.jpeg&amp;c12=&amp;i13=http://dna.imagini.net/i/RESIZE_791C6076.jpeg&amp;c13=&amp;moodlabel=WILD CAT&amp;lovelabel=LOVE BUG&amp;funlabel=ESCAPE ARTIST&amp;habitslabel=HIGH TIME ROLLER&amp;uid=409204-04da&amp;srv=iwebhd6" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;div style="text-align:center; width:340px;height:25px;margin-top:0px; border-top:1px solid rgb(150,150,150);background-color:rgb(0,0,0);padding:5px 0 0 0; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://networking.imagini.blueorange.co.uk/vdna.php?uid=409204-04da&amp;srv=iwebhd6" style="color:rgb(255,255,255)"&gt;Read my VisualDNA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10px;color:#cccccc"&gt;&amp;trade;&lt;/span&gt;     &lt;a href="http://imagini.net/" style="color:rgb(255,255,255) "&gt;Get your own VisualDNA&amp;trade;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5295780268072669122?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5295780268072669122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5295780268072669122&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5295780268072669122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5295780268072669122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/06/my-visual-dna.html' title='My Visual DNA'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-8114361917556399839</id><published>2007-06-06T23:27:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T23:31:04.925+09:00</updated><title type='text'>La Copa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RmbFAX0GiKI/AAAAAAAAACo/wJ1Rk_UZrmM/s1600-h/Picture%2B1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RmbFAX0GiKI/AAAAAAAAACo/wJ1Rk_UZrmM/s200/Picture%2B1.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072958640462661794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La Copa will behaving a private sale and I will be participating there again as an event stylist. I will be having private invitations so if you guys want to come just let me know! The clothes are to die for, trust me! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In preparation for our new collection, La Copa is having a sale event at Mancor Corporate Center, the Fort on June 15-17. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't miss the chance to get a hold of the last few pieces of our present collection - unique items only La Copa has to offer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Message me on my tagboard for more details or check out lacopastory.blogspot.com.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-8114361917556399839?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/8114361917556399839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=8114361917556399839&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8114361917556399839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8114361917556399839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/06/la-copa.html' title='La Copa'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RmbFAX0GiKI/AAAAAAAAACo/wJ1Rk_UZrmM/s72-c/Picture%2B1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-1359873678954059409</id><published>2007-05-18T00:22:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T21:55:18.693+09:00</updated><title type='text'>He is so back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rkx2b6HZtxI/AAAAAAAAACg/2hmC4tE7gf0/s1600-h/512%2B04twyDL._AA240_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rkx2b6HZtxI/AAAAAAAAACg/2hmC4tE7gf0/s200/512%2B04twyDL._AA240_.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065553902713812754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elliot Yamin!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't let this day pass without giving him credit. He is so hot with that "Im a neanderthal" look! Who would have thought?! Seriously, I can't believe he's back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's one of the few people in AI with a pure and humble heart that's why it's so nice to see him really make it in the music industry! (unlike those old contestants who would bet on their lives just to prove to the world that they'll make it big after being booted off the show but ages after, still no single from them!) I love love love Yamin! Remember his grandma? Or was it his mom? Either way, I love her too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't see it coming, swear. Katherine McPhee and Chris Daughtry would be automatic stars but Elliot? Wow! The moment he sang on AI, I got my laptop and downloaded it! It's the very first time I've ever done that while watching the show. I didn't do it when Kelly Pickler sang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess dreams do come true to some people. Good for them! Good for that cutie Elliot! I will so support him, I swear.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three posts in one day. Oh wow. Bored as hell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-1359873678954059409?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/1359873678954059409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=1359873678954059409&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1359873678954059409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/1359873678954059409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/05/he-is-so-back.html' title='He is so back!'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rkx2b6HZtxI/AAAAAAAAACg/2hmC4tE7gf0/s72-c/512%2B04twyDL._AA240_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-3552553500618738570</id><published>2007-05-17T22:08:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T22:37:44.158+09:00</updated><title type='text'>I Take It Back</title><content type='html'>Everything I've said on the previous post, I take it all back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not living the life that I want. I want the best of both worlds. In fact, I always do. But norms, values, and all that crap tell me I can't. Why can't I just be happy with everything? Why do I have to be happy on one side, and depressed on the other? People think I've mastered the art of living two lives. Contrary to popular belief, I still consider myself an amateur. I don't wanna get used to spending my life divided. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's your laughter that won't let me go. God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna be everyone's "favorite mistake". Im tired of that. I wanna be someone good to them. Now everything's so wrong. I feel so bad. As in really. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I feel like Meredith: dark and twisty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still wanna be Tori Amos though. I wanna be free from all this and do everything without people telling me I've gotten out of my mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-3552553500618738570?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/3552553500618738570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=3552553500618738570&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3552553500618738570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3552553500618738570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-take-it-back.html' title='I Take It Back'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-8137259221079561664</id><published>2007-05-17T16:36:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T16:58:05.457+09:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sorta Fairytale</title><content type='html'>While waiting for Vir for lunch awhile ago, I overheard two friends talking. They were both a little old but from the way they sat, talked, and laughed, it was very evident that they were pretty strong and still energetic for their age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: "Nakakainis my kids! They kept on calling and calling! They're now in America living the lives that they wanted. They wanted to be independent and so I finally let them go. For once I want to live my own life. Now that Im pretty old, Id like to travel! I want to go places and I have enough money for it! I have provided all my kids their own houses in La Vista and in the US and now all I want is a condo where I can relax everytime I go home from a vacation. I need one, you know!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: "Then I'll go with you! Punta tayo Milan next week you want?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl: "Sige!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They didn't seem like lovers to me. They just looked like two old friends who have remained that way since forever.  I would love that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im happy Im living my life the way I want it to be right now. There might be little disappointments on the side, but at least I get to live my life the way I want it to be. I don't want to grow old and imagine the what couldve been life. I want to take things slow, absorb every thing that's happening and let it all sink in. I dont want to forget. I dont want to be forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at how free Tori Amos is. She's such a goddess. I love her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/STPiH7B9WEk"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/STPiH7B9WEk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&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/9018991-8137259221079561664?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/8137259221079561664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=8137259221079561664&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8137259221079561664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8137259221079561664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/05/sorta-fairytale.html' title='A Sorta Fairytale'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-4520684151526445119</id><published>2007-05-12T11:56:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-05-12T13:10:29.769+09:00</updated><title type='text'>A Certain Romance</title><content type='html'>The point's that there ain't no romance around there, and there's the truth that they can't see. They'd probably like to throw a punch at me and if you could only see them, then you would agree that there ain't no romance around there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They'll never listen 'cause their minds are made up and, OF COURSE, it's all okay to carry on that way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over there there's broken bones, and it don't take no Sherlock Holmes to see it's a little different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have said:&lt;br /&gt;No! Oh no!&lt;br /&gt;Well you won't get me to go!&lt;br /&gt;Not anywhere, not anywhere&lt;br /&gt;No I won't go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as expected, I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over there there's friends of mine. What can I say, I've known 'em for a long long time and yah, they might overstep the line but I just cannot get angry in the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck. I'll be going to some place I know I'll be too uncomfortable to even talk. Guardian angel, be with me tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-4520684151526445119?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/4520684151526445119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=4520684151526445119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4520684151526445119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4520684151526445119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/05/certain-romance.html' title='A Certain Romance'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-2565198241836394210</id><published>2007-05-10T00:22:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T01:44:38.272+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Caring is creepy</title><content type='html'>One minute we're the best of friends, or so others assume we are, next minute we can't bear seeing each other. It's never gonna end, huh? Sometimes I wonder why I even bother reaching out. It's so useless that from now on, I'd rather do my own pedicure and manicure than reach out to you guys. And to think I hate doing that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do deserve pretty things because.. well I just do. I'm your fucking daughter for crying out loud! I  have the right to leech  from your  so-called riches and   use it to my advantage in any way possible. But do I actually get to have that luxury? Sige, fine, sometimes. But when you compare my status with Bobby's, or Patricia's even, God, you wouldn't even consider me part of the family anymore! I swear. I was jealous before but now, I don't even know what to feel. I hope I'm that jaded but I'm still not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pucha, SO WHAT. Fine, buy Bobby his second car. Fine, give him my new laptop 'cause you think he needs it more than I do. Go ahead, looks like he's missing out on a lot of things anyway.  I'm happy being the person you don't text anymore. I'm happy that I get to go to anywhere I want to, whenever I want to. I'm finally free from you guys. Finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is so relaxing. Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long live comfort in strangeness! I want you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-2565198241836394210?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/2565198241836394210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=2565198241836394210&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2565198241836394210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2565198241836394210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/05/caring-is-creepy.html' title='Caring is creepy'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-8461683199934131292</id><published>2007-04-19T00:56:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T02:42:43.111+09:00</updated><title type='text'>La Copa</title><content type='html'>"Karen, would you like to be a stylist for the La Copa Sample Sale?" - Warner&lt;br /&gt;"Kelan?!" - me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fab couture + Fab, fun friends and familiar faces = Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a stylist was more of a hobby than a job to me. After the call from Warner, I literally jumped for joy. I was gonna do the one thing that I learned to love - being a stylist! Call me shallow, maarte, feeling, superficial, whatever! I do not care. I get to be surrounded by pretty clothes plus I get to see the former Tyler people again! Who would wanna miss that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working for 7 hours waiting for elite, stylish customers was nothing compared to what I've been through before so the whole event was a stroll in the park. Wawa the other girls though who weren't used to the demands of the job; they all looked so tired after the first day. There's so many ugly things in the world that being surrounded by beautiful creations is an opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally convinced myself that the pregnant look is so not for me. I actually look pregnant whenever I wear those items so I guess I'll stick to the body-shaping clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pieces I love&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZTx9Ne-FI/AAAAAAAAACQ/G47MN8mjIbQ/s1600-h/_DSC0383.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZTx9Ne-FI/AAAAAAAAACQ/G47MN8mjIbQ/s200/_DSC0383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054819749479774290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZTm9Ne-EI/AAAAAAAAACI/iEPPrwvUcB0/s1600-h/_DSC0313.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZTm9Ne-EI/AAAAAAAAACI/iEPPrwvUcB0/s200/_DSC0313.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054819560501213250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZTFdNe-CI/AAAAAAAAAB4/R-w_mMQc5EM/s1600-h/_DSC0226.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZTFdNe-CI/AAAAAAAAAB4/R-w_mMQc5EM/s200/_DSC0226.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054818984975595554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZTXtNe-DI/AAAAAAAAACA/JVSPE_jkAXU/s1600-h/_DSC0150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZTXtNe-DI/AAAAAAAAACA/JVSPE_jkAXU/s200/_DSC0150.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054819298508208178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;   oh  and Rej's shoes too! To die for!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZT9NNe-GI/AAAAAAAAACY/8uaJKgqQLI4/s1600-h/IMG_3351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZT9NNe-GI/AAAAAAAAACY/8uaJKgqQLI4/s200/IMG_3351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054819942753302626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Tyler faves: Di, Warner, Rej, Sugar, Sid, Jorja, Ida, Na, Abby, Nica, Lala&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZSK9Ne-BI/AAAAAAAAABw/4cLh9mlt9MY/s1600-h/IMG_4339.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZSK9Ne-BI/AAAAAAAAABw/4cLh9mlt9MY/s200/IMG_4339.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054817979953248274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I missed you guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-8461683199934131292?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/8461683199934131292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=8461683199934131292&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8461683199934131292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8461683199934131292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/04/la-copa.html' title='La Copa'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RiZTx9Ne-FI/AAAAAAAAACQ/G47MN8mjIbQ/s72-c/_DSC0383.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-8215913934191804865</id><published>2007-04-11T22:03:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T23:56:40.636+09:00</updated><title type='text'>On a High</title><content type='html'>Overtime on the very first day at work. Crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was assigned to the Planning Department and I love it! It's way better than the Creatives, I think. I love love love iiiitttt. Pucha need I say more?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment I sat down on (take note) my desk, (Yes, I have my own space and Im proud of it. E so kung mababaw?!), Sir Ray said: "Ok, here's what we're gonna do." Imagine, not even 30 mins spared for company intro and the crap! We were rushing for the deadline tomorrow. He showed me everything that I was to do and to tell you honestly, the more he enumerated everything that I had to do, the more I got kilig. Who wouldn't?! I was even solely assigned to that one project that's due on Friday and I haven't started anything yet! It's such a high I can't stop daydreaming about what's gonna happen tomorrow! Going to work is way better than any drug out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and the other newbies are way fun too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. I believe I have to stop now. I look like a person who hasn't eaten in months salivating over a piece of bread.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-8215913934191804865?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/8215913934191804865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=8215913934191804865&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8215913934191804865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8215913934191804865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/04/on-high.html' title='On a High'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-3260598177350538217</id><published>2007-04-10T14:54:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T14:59:45.358+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Aspac Advertising: Global Creative Business</title><content type='html'>Our Philosophy :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who We Are&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;We are communication partners focused on brand creation and re-creation. We strive to create a compelling market advantage for our &lt;a href="http://www.aspac.com.ph/clients.htm" class="link-gold"&gt;Clients&lt;/a&gt; by leveraging the tools of marketing communications.&lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What We Do&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;We constantly seek out ways to do things better not for the sake of being different, but in the pursuit of business success for our &lt;a href="http://www.aspac.com.ph/clients.htm" class="link-gold"&gt;Clients&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What We Believe In&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                   &lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;We believe that a great agency can &lt;span class="link-gold"&gt;outsmart&lt;/span&gt; the competition without needing to outspend them.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We believe that &lt;a href="http://www.aspac.com.ph/work.htm" class="link-gold"&gt;brilliant creativity&lt;/a&gt; is an unfair advantage in the marketplace.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We believe that constantly challenging the status quo ensures the best and most &lt;a href="http://www.aspac.com.ph/work.htm" class="link-gold"&gt;effective work&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;That a &lt;a href="http://www.aspac.com.ph/clients.htm" class="link-gold"&gt;client list&lt;/a&gt; should be handpicked and small, so agency principals and key people can stay neck-deep in client business.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;www.aspac.com.ph&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow's my first day. Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-3260598177350538217?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/3260598177350538217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=3260598177350538217&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3260598177350538217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/3260598177350538217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/04/aspac-advertising-global-creative.html' title='Aspac Advertising: Global Creative Business'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5769479436574681530</id><published>2007-04-03T22:15:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T23:27:38.118+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Sumammer na!</title><content type='html'>And to think I expected this summer to be a boring one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reasons why I should my summer is worth a one biiig smile from ear to ear:&lt;br /&gt;1. BEACH&lt;br /&gt;    a. Bora with my bitches: 6 days, 5 nights all expenses paid! It was all perfect - fab group, fab beach, fab crowd, fab resort, not to mention the fab picnic we had while watching the sunset (complete with sparkling and red wine, blue cheese, and chocolates courtesy of Raffy). Beer + beach + friends = perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    b. Puerto: Oh yes, my MC lovies will be there. Can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    c. Calatagan: Only girlies are allowed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. OJT&lt;br /&gt;    San Miguel was the first to accept me. They wanted me to start asap because they needed someone like me daw. What the hell did that mean? Anyway, I turned it down 'cause I had to go to the beach first. Haha. Sayang but sokey! Then there's GMA. I did almost all the processes already; I sent the letters, got my good moral for the company and attended the orientation. In the end though, I had to turn the offer down again. They were gonna place me at their Legal Division. COME ON. I am not up for that. Then there's Six Degrees Strategic Design. It's an Ad Agency that focuses on low budget advertising. I am really interested. I might try there if there's time left this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally. Right when I was feeling sad because I didn't have a multinational company to go to (Oh yes, it should be multinational. Otherwise, my dad will get so disappointed), ASPAC Advertising texts me to say that I have an interview the very next day! Everything went well. I love it. Im part of the Creatives and I'm so fucking proud of it! Yey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5769479436574681530?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5769479436574681530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5769479436574681530&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5769479436574681530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5769479436574681530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/04/sumammer-na.html' title='Sumammer na!'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-8395186878834884316</id><published>2007-03-24T15:32:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T16:46:39.672+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Secrets</title><content type='html'>Every single person has at least one secret that would break your heart. If we could just remember this, I think there would be a lot more compassion and tolerance in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some secrets of strangers that I believe can be mine as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTQrM6Ev6I/AAAAAAAAABE/gd3C9pV_6B8/s1600-h/aging.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTQrM6Ev6I/AAAAAAAAABE/gd3C9pV_6B8/s200/aging.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045386923179556770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't want to grow old. If possible, I want to die when I'm 50 already. Ok fine, at most is 55. I'm afraid to be useless. I'm terrified that someday, nobody will ever want me anymore, and that I will have no value to anyone, not even to the ones I consider as my family. I want to be remembered as someone who loved life and not someone who, in the end, became a depressed looking-out-the-window type of old person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTQxs6Ev7I/AAAAAAAAABM/Uo0wiOU1HrE/s1600-h/smoke.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTQxs6Ev7I/AAAAAAAAABM/Uo0wiOU1HrE/s200/smoke.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045387034848706482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've been lied to so many times in my life, but lying to someone is, for some reason, the worst feeling. It's not the lying that's hard 'cause truth is , lying is one of the easiest things to do in the world. It's the thought of the person that's been lied to finding out about the whole lying thing. It's never gonna be easy and fun to hurt someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTQlM6Ev5I/AAAAAAAAAA8/2kv8k-yvyL8/s1600-h/fabulous.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTQlM6Ev5I/AAAAAAAAAA8/2kv8k-yvyL8/s200/fabulous.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045386820100341650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cmon, I bet everyone's done this already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTRWs6Ev8I/AAAAAAAAABU/nXQKa0XOwxs/s1600-h/33.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTRWs6Ev8I/AAAAAAAAABU/nXQKa0XOwxs/s200/33.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045387670503866306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I usually tell this to myself when I'm drunk and I see someone cute. I just can't help it sometimes. What more if all the guys in the world are 300-ish?! My God, I'll be a slut then, and I won't be ashamed of it. For now though, I'll be settled with dirty thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTVvM6Ev9I/AAAAAAAAABc/OPX4FiFUKMo/s1600-h/screwed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTVvM6Ev9I/AAAAAAAAABc/OPX4FiFUKMo/s200/screwed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045392489457172434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thank God! If they're not as screwed up as they are now, I could have committed isolation due to no fun from the outside world. I love that my friends are drunkards. I love that they are magnets of problems. I love that we are all crazy, fucked up people. That makes us one hellava fun group! I don't care whether or not they really are bad influences. As long as I'm happy and as long as they're not ruining my studies, I'm fine with the everyday drinking.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTWo86Ev-I/AAAAAAAAABk/dlaJ8JgfSsI/s1600-h/vain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTWo86Ev-I/AAAAAAAAABk/dlaJ8JgfSsI/s200/vain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045393481594617826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Who isn't?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-8395186878834884316?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/8395186878834884316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=8395186878834884316&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8395186878834884316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/8395186878834884316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/03/post-secrets.html' title='Post Secrets'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/RgTQrM6Ev6I/AAAAAAAAABE/gd3C9pV_6B8/s72-c/aging.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-4412255055960670610</id><published>2007-03-21T23:29:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T23:50:34.511+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Naked and Sacred</title><content type='html'>This world can be so cold, I wanna hold you naked and sacred 'til I grow old. I wanna be good for you, I wanna be true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am, sadly, needy by nature. You say I am not easily contented with what I have, but if you'll look a little closer, you'll see that all I actually need is you. And with you, I have peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is nothing wrong with being needy, more so materialistic. There are so many beautiful things in this world and it's up to us to appreciate them. Haha BULL! Look, even the Pope wears Prada!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He may never make the best-dressed lists, but Pope Benedict XVI is nothing short of a religious-fashion icon, riding in the Popemobile with red Prada loafers under his cassock and Gucci shades. But his penchant for designer wear and a move to ditch the papal tailors who have dressed popes for more than 200 years are causing new wrinkles in the Vatican. Benedict has favored his tailor from his days as cardinal, Alessandro Cattaneo, and the 20-year-old religious-fashion house of Raniero Mancinelli, which has provided the pope with dazzling new vestments (some with shimmering, sequinlike details). At risk of losing the papal-dress contract are the Annibale Gammarelli tailors, who have made papal wear since 1792. But they blundered when Benedict had to make his debut blessing in a cassock that was too short, ending just above his ankles. Subsequent celebratory vestments made by Gammarelli are reported to have made the pope uncomfortable.&lt;p class="textBodyBlack"&gt;&lt;span id="byLine"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The Vatican won't comment on papal attire, and Gammarelli denies it is getting the ax: "We are still in contact with the Holy Father. Perhaps there was only an occasional gift by some friend of the pontiff," the tailor says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;—Barbie Nadeau, Newsweek&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="textBodyBlack"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="textBodyBlack"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;HEYYYY ARNOLLDD!!**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-4412255055960670610?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/4412255055960670610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=4412255055960670610&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4412255055960670610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4412255055960670610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/03/naked-and-sacred.html' title='Naked and Sacred'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-2733442763464540855</id><published>2007-03-15T02:54:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T02:55:19.728+09:00</updated><title type='text'>This is Sparta!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7RQm37K-clg"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7RQm37K-clg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&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/9018991-2733442763464540855?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/2733442763464540855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=2733442763464540855&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2733442763464540855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/2733442763464540855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/03/this-is-sparta.html' title='This is Sparta!'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-7966184248589145991</id><published>2007-03-07T10:48:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T10:56:16.210+09:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF</title><content type='html'>"The MC Basketball Team has witnessed your skills in the recent intrams. We would like to invite you to tryouts tomorrow, 6pm at the college court. We also encourage you to bring friends who are intrested. We hope to see you tomorrow. Thank you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oha! They invited me to try out! Bull!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-7966184248589145991?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/7966184248589145991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=7966184248589145991&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7966184248589145991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/7966184248589145991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/03/wtf.html' title='WTF'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5901169977926577917</id><published>2007-03-06T00:45:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T09:17:57.502+09:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sweet Escape</title><content type='html'>If I could escape, and recreate a place that's my own world and I could be your favorite girl forever, perfectly together. Now tell me, wouldn't that be sweet?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5901169977926577917?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5901169977926577917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5901169977926577917&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5901169977926577917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5901169977926577917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/03/sweet-escape.html' title='The Sweet Escape'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-144735633102180706</id><published>2007-03-01T20:34:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T20:43:05.969+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Bittersweet Symphony</title><content type='html'>"You deserve much much worse for all your lies and bullshitting.. You don't love me, you just love lying, two-timing, and destroying every relationship you get into 'cause you're too into yourself that you never think of anyone else. You never try to please anyone else unless it benefits you or serves a purpose for you. I thought you changed nung naging tayo pero hindi rin pala. Hinintay mo lang magsawa ka then you moved on and never ever tried to work things out. Have fun destroying your new relationship. Hope matagalan ka nya."&lt;br /&gt;- from one special person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just be waiting for karma. Hope it strikes me bad. I deserve it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you always, I'm sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-144735633102180706?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/144735633102180706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=144735633102180706&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/144735633102180706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/144735633102180706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/03/bittersweet-symphony.html' title='Bittersweet Symphony'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-5747520281893270790</id><published>2007-02-27T04:48:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T04:56:14.493+09:00</updated><title type='text'>One Word</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;1. Yourself? selfish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend?  complicated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;3. Your hair? short&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;4. Your mother? scary&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;5. Your Father? smart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;6. Your Favorite Item:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;7. Your dream last night: forgot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;8. Your Favorite drink: water&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;9. Your Dream Car: nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;10. The room you are in: mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;11. Your Ex's: friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;12. Your fear: isolation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;13. What you want to be in 10 years: rich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;14. What You're NOT? loyal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;15. Muffins: nya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;16: One of Your Wish List Items: swimsuit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;18: Time: fast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;19. The Last Thing You Did: powerpoint&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;20. What You Are Wearing: daster (Haha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;21. Your Favorite Weather: sunny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;22. Your Favorite Book:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;23. The Last Thing You Ate: noodles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;24. Your Life: interesting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;25. Your Mood:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;26. Your friends: love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;27. What are you thinking about right now? future&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;28. Your cellphone: L6&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;29. What are you doing at the moment? printing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;30. Your summer: anticipating&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;31. Your relationship status: complicated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;32. What is on your tv? none&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;33. What is the weather like? humid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;34. When is the last time you laughed? kanina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="justify"&gt;35. What do you do when you can't sleep? secret&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-5747520281893270790?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/5747520281893270790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=5747520281893270790&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5747520281893270790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/5747520281893270790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/02/one-word.html' title='One Word'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-6636053720538769049</id><published>2007-02-22T23:39:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T00:06:49.456+09:00</updated><title type='text'>My Addiction is Back!</title><content type='html'>American Idol Season Six Baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite: LAKISHA JONES. My God, can this girl sing or what?!?! I love her facial expressions when she sings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rd2vDU6ke1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kzOUJTl4jvg/s1600-h/lakisha_jones.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 176px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rd2vDU6ke1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kzOUJTl4jvg/s320/lakisha_jones.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034372430158920530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My special favorite: CHRIS SLIGH. His humor is soooo out of this world! I lalalalalove it! He's like Conan O'Brien!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rd2xOU6ke2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/rzlnu5NN5dY/s1600-h/chris_sligh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rd2xOU6ke2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/rzlnu5NN5dY/s320/chris_sligh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034374818160737122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Chris Sligh Interview:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;What would people be surprised to learn about you?&lt;br /&gt;I’m chubby.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;How has this changed your life?&lt;br /&gt;It hasn’t yet, except to make me poorer b/c of taking off so  much work.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;Do you have any lucky charms?&lt;br /&gt;Yes, they’re magically delicious.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-6636053720538769049?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/6636053720538769049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=6636053720538769049&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6636053720538769049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/6636053720538769049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-addiction-is-back.html' title='My Addiction is Back!'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_mEK7Ec7YJRo/Rd2vDU6ke1I/AAAAAAAAAAM/kzOUJTl4jvg/s72-c/lakisha_jones.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-4688460033645994213</id><published>2007-02-19T21:10:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T10:08:04.641+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Karen 101</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Have you ever looked at a picture of yourself and see a stranger in the background? It makes you wonder how many strangers have pictures of you. How many moments of other people's lives have you been in? Were you a part of someone's life when their dreams came true? Or were you there when their dreams died? Did you keep trying to get in, as if you were somehow destined to be there? Or did the shock take you by surprise? Just think, you'd be a big part of someone else's life, and not even know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say you could tell a person by looking at the group she's in. Let's see. I have my highschool friends: Ning, Mar, Ecai, Chai, Dior, Diana, and Jack. Not to mention my other high school friends Icay, Janis, Rej, Nash, Melo, IV4, my batch, plus my EXs. Being with them brings me back to so many incomparable moments. I call them my happy girls for it's only with them that I get to laugh that hard. I have my Ateneo people: JM, Alex, Chocho, Wenki, Jen, Chris, Dian, and Inigo. I love these gorgeous people to death. I call them my fab darlings. They have the most expensive and fab stuff most of the time, but their happiness come from the simplest of things. I have the You and Me, or so I thought I had them. I hope I still do. They're Aidz, Eli, Bok, Taker, Fred, Moch, Doms, JP, Drei, JC, etc. I call them my steady people because literally, they are steady people. I have my MC family: Thea, Pat, Ley, Roca, Moya, Piper, Vir, Keith, Gaf, Karla, Kharmi, etc. I call them my good-times people because with them, even the bad times become good. I have my cousins with whom I feel most comfortable with. They're my go-to people because they usually know when to save me, even when I don't ask for their help. Plus I have my other special friends: Sab, Anji, Wax, Jodie, Tiffy, etc. My heart will always have a space for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there. Those are my possies. They are all totally different and yet I can relate to them all. Who I am then?! Does one group think of me differently than the other? I hope not for I try to be as consistent as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Ma. Katrina Sillador Sangalang. Some people call me Karen, close friends call me Kar. I hate it when they call me Kat, the You and Me call me Ka. I am supposed to be 21 years old, but my mind and actions say I'm not. I live at New Manila, one of my favorite places in Quezon City. I've been here since I was in 2nd Grade and I doubt that we'll be moving to another house anytime soon. I don't have a lot of childhood memories, although memories from high school up to the present keep me contented. I have my immediate family who, I believe, hasn't seen the real me yet. What and how they think of me is totally different from who I really am. I am not trying to sound like a rebel here, I'm just misunderstood by them, that's all. Despite all the family drama crap though, I love them to death. Always have, always will. I treasure all my friends and I try to keep conflicts away from me as much as possible. I hate confrontations. I hate losing friends. I try to maintain good relationships with the people I meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. John Child Care Center was where I had my first set of friends. I transferred to St. Theresa's College after. Eleven wonderful years of my life were spent there. It's where I grew up, basically. It will always be my home. Went to Ateneo de Mla University after high school. How I wish I went to La Salle instead.  I transferred to Miriam College after three grueling years in ADMU. I've always been smart in school although my attitude and my way of thinking towards school sometimes pull me down. I am finally starting to accept that I am oftentimes irresponsible. I am starting to change, by the way. From now on, less parties and more schoolwork for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I worked for Tyler part-time last semester and I loved every minute of it. Even though I was complaining and whining and cursing during the latter part of my contract, I knew then that I still love what I was doing. I love the people. They are all fab. I miss Ida, Na, Abby, Nina, Di, Reg, Lala, Sidney, Warner, Georgia, and Sugar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had eight (or nine?) serious relationships in my life. I've cheated on all of them and I've never been proud of it. I loved them all despite all the lies, I hope they know that.  I still do actually. All the people with whom I've shared my life with are wonderful, amazing people and I wish them all the best. They will always be special to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was always the biggest fan of love. That makes me wonder sometimes if that may be the reason why I oftentimes take and take and take love without thinking of the consequences of my actions. I want to make one thing clear though: I never cheated just so another person could fill in for the shortcomings of the other. It was never that way. I just didn't know how and when to limit myself from loving. I love the people I loved for who they are and that was enough. We all had our shortcomings but that was never a reason for me to cheat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to be surrounded by people. I hate it when I'm home. I'd rather be alone smoking, or reading a book, or doing nothing at Starbucks than be stuck at home watching TV. Being around people, especially by the people I love, gives me that unexplainable high. I was never the introvert type, obviously. Oh, I won the Most Friendly award when I was in  Preschool.  Wala lang. Haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am funny and I know it. It's a wonderful gift that I got from my dad. It's amazing how with just one word, you can make the whole group laugh their hearts out. I love making people laugh. It's like therapy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to drink moderately but sadly, its been beer all day, everyday. I'm not proud of that too. It's because of that excessive drinking that I've been trying to watch what I eat now. I've been gaining a lot of pounds and I hate it. I hate that I'm trying  to go on a pseudo strict diet right now. It's so not me. I love to eat. I love food. I love love love Chinese food, fast food, Japanese food, Italian, Spanish, American, even street food, heck I love them all. Except for veggies, of course. I don't eat vegetables. Oh and I don't eat dinuguan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate people who act and think like they rule the world and that they're so much better than everybody else. They are all losers, in my opinion. I don't get mad that easily and if I actually do get mad at someone, that person won't ever notice. Unless of course that person knows me by heart already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smoke a lot. I wish I could cut down but I'm not that determined so maybe next year will be the year I"ll lessen my excessive intake of nicotine. I want to quit smoking when I'm thirty. I have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate snakes. Even typing the word gives me the creeps. All snakes should be eradicated from Earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a brat. I am crabby most of the time. I am moody when I wake up. I usually don't care what other people would think of me. I do what I want all the time. I am hard headed. According to Jacq, I'm the most spoiled person she has ever met. According to a friend, I am the most flirtatious though I doubt that I am. I am just friendly. People say I'm sweet and endearing. Close friends know I'm a backstabber. I can't keep a secret. I try my best to keep other people's secrets but sometimes, I just have to tell it to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listen to almost all types of music. I hate Gregorian chants. I listen to Pop when I'm in a good mood. I listen to r&amp;amp;b and hiphop when I want to dance. I listen to Eraserheads when I'm depressed. I listen to sappy songs when I'm heartbroken. I listen to sappy songs when it's raining. I listen to Alternative when I'm jolly. I am not a rock person but I love Alternative music, contrary to popular beliefs. I love Alternative songs. They don't bombard the lyrics with the words I love you, yet you could still feel the intensity of love in the song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movies are my stress relievers. TV Series are the second on my list. I adore One Tree Hill, I love Grey's Anatomy. I used to watch NipTuck and Lost. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I might like Heroes. I don't know yet, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I'll start watching it next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am always driven by my passion. I see to it that I do what I love and that I excel in it. I was never happy with my course in Ateneo. Three years in Economics, imagine that. I love love love my course in Miriam College now. Marketing is the perfect choice. It's my perfect choice. It's who I really am and I believe that it's what I was destined to take. At least I hope it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday, when I become insanely rich, I will have my own Advertising Empire. I will donate money to charity. Heck, I'll even start my own foundation for abused women and for children. I will buy my own dolphins and God knows how much I will love them. I will buy all the clothes, shoes, bags, and accessories that I want. I will travel all over the world with my family. I will make sure that my children get to see wonderful things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on and on blabbing about myself and yet, for some reason, I still wouldn't know who I really am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mirror mirror on the wall, who is Kar after all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-4688460033645994213?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/4688460033645994213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=4688460033645994213&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4688460033645994213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/4688460033645994213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/02/karen-101.html' title='Karen 101'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-117007978058435362</id><published>2007-01-29T22:49:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T23:09:40.600+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Just so you know</title><content type='html'>This feeling is taking control of me, and I can't help but give in sometimes. Please, just let me do things my way. I am trying my best to fix things, trust me. I just really have to do things on my own right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to think anymore. I just want to go somewhere far away, some place where noone can find me. That's where I'll lie down and live.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-117007978058435362?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/117007978058435362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=117007978058435362&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/117007978058435362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/117007978058435362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/01/just-so-you-know.html' title='Just so you know'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-116949773729212004</id><published>2007-01-23T04:59:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T05:28:57.330+09:00</updated><title type='text'>We ride</title><content type='html'>This is an entry devoted to defend my MC family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never really accepted the thought that I was in MC until I met these wonderful group of people. They were the ones who reminded me that life will always be easy if I surround myself with the right people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We may seem like the most delinquent group of people you'll ever meet for drinking almost everyday, may it me day or night, but WE ARE, in my opinion, MORE RESPONSIBLE than most students. We get good grades, we pass our requirements, we attend important seminars, we build good relationships with professors - what more could you want from us? Why does our "we love to party all the time" state bother a lot of you guys? If it doesn't bother us, then others don't have to be bothered for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not bad influences to one another. What I do has nothing to do with them. I make decisions for myself, while others make theirs for themselves too. We just make sure that whatever comes out of our decisions, we are there when needed. When things get out of hand, that's when we interrupt. We never dictate, we just advise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not pure booze. We don't just drink, you know. We can be serious too. In fact, we talk about serious matters all the time. I learn from these people everyday. I'm sometimes amazed by the depth of the things they say actually. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love them, so please stop judging them. It's fine time you accept them for who they are, the way I have accepted them. They have accepted me, and I am very thankful for that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-116949773729212004?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/116949773729212004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=116949773729212004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116949773729212004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116949773729212004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/01/we-ride.html' title='We ride'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-116856328446976492</id><published>2007-01-12T09:40:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T09:54:44.486+09:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss</title><content type='html'>Tyler.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-116856328446976492?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/116856328446976492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=116856328446976492&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116856328446976492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116856328446976492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-miss.html' title='I miss'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-116817660499836571</id><published>2007-01-07T22:15:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T22:30:05.010+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Truth</title><content type='html'>Can't believe how you set me free&lt;br /&gt;The way you purify this soul, dont you know?&lt;br /&gt;Got you into my arms now I'm never letting go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;This old dog is finally home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-116817660499836571?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/116817660499836571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=116817660499836571&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116817660499836571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116817660499836571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2007/01/truth.html' title='Truth'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-116697785732415763</id><published>2006-12-25T01:15:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-12-25T01:39:07.636+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Silent Night</title><content type='html'>When everybody was having Christmas blues, I wasn't. Not until awhile ago, that is, when we went to see the last mass before December 25. We were all asked by the priest to kneel and together sing the Silent Night with Mt. Carmel's amazing choir. At first I thought it was another pathetic idea of bringing the people 'together'. But it was more than that. Trust me, if you were there, you'd feel it. It gave me the chills listening to everybody sing that simple and solemn song. God, it was all so peaceful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I wish everyday could be like tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Misalette said, "If you were to ask a wish this Christmas, it should be one of these three":&lt;br /&gt;1) gift of faith (I HAVE FAITH IN GOD, AND IN EVERYTHING FOR THAT MATTER, AND I KNOW IT'S A STRONG ONE. ALL I'M ASKING FOR IS FOR OTHER PEOPLE TO HAVE FAITH IN ME AS WELL.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) gift of the ability to do God's will (I NEED THIS ONE THE MOST. I WANNA LEARN HOW TO DISTINGUISH WHAT'S RIGHT AND WHAT'S WRONG. I WANNA KNOW HOW TO MAKE OTHER PEOPLE HAPPY WITHOUT HURTING MY OWN FEELINGS. I WANNA KNOW HOW TO MAKE ME HAPPY WITHOUT HURTING OTHERS TOO. IT'S SO HARD BEING GOOD ALL THE TIME.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) gift of rejoicing (TO BE TRULY HAPPY IS TO BE CONTENTED WITH WHAT YOU HAVE. SO NOT ME. PLEASE GOD, TEACH ME HOW)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy holidays everyone. May we all find our holiday cheers and may all our holiday wishes come true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-116697785732415763?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/116697785732415763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=116697785732415763&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116697785732415763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116697785732415763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/12/silent-night.html' title='Silent Night'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-116541488808713517</id><published>2006-12-06T22:50:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T23:21:28.190+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Scar Tissue</title><content type='html'>"With the birds I'll share this lonely view.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that we all live by promises we can't keep? Promises are almost always made to be broken and in my opinion, those that can actually keep their promises are heroes.  It's always hard to swear on something unknown and yet, we keep on making promises to other people everyday. What's sad is that however we mean our promises, there are still a million things that we can't control that can hinder us from keeping them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most tormenting promises are the ones that are easiest to say. "I will love you forever", "I will change, I swear", "I will never do anything to hurt you". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that we all live by promises we can't keep then? Because it's those promises that give us hope. And it's that hope that keeps us from living. It's that hope that puts smiles on our faces. It's that hope that gives us that pseudo feeling of assurance that life will always be beautiful even with all the scar tissues. And it is, by the way. I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-116541488808713517?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/116541488808713517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=116541488808713517&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116541488808713517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116541488808713517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/12/scar-tissue.html' title='Scar Tissue'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-116490414857123498</id><published>2006-12-01T00:05:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T01:43:53.356+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Interstate 60</title><content type='html'>"If you were given just one wish, what would it be?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd wish for true happiness. I've always wondered how it would feel like to be constantly happy with everything (Family, Friends, School, Love etc).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess I'll never know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-116490414857123498?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/116490414857123498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=116490414857123498&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116490414857123498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116490414857123498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/11/interstate-60.html' title='Interstate 60'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-116416294617943472</id><published>2006-11-22T11:03:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T11:38:16.893+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Live for the Moment</title><content type='html'>A friend once told me to let go of all my plans for the future, never think ahead of what's at the present, and just live. I thought she was crazy. How can you live your life and not think of what to do next? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wasn't wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living life one day at a time is so much better than preparing yourself for something you're not even sure is gonna happen. It's not that I'm discarding everything I've longed, planned, and worked for already for the future; I'm just taking things one step at a time now. It's better this way, I guess. At least I'll be more focused with what I'm doing. More focus = Less mistakes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope some people would understand. I've always been selfish, this move is for everybody.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-116416294617943472?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/116416294617943472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=116416294617943472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116416294617943472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116416294617943472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/11/live-for-moment.html' title='Live for the Moment'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-116364292945194611</id><published>2006-11-16T11:08:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T11:08:49.466+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning to Breathe</title><content type='html'>I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-116364292945194611?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/116364292945194611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=116364292945194611&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116364292945194611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116364292945194611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/11/learning-to-breathe.html' title='Learning to Breathe'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-116291782120050147</id><published>2006-11-08T01:28:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T01:43:41.276+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere in the middle</title><content type='html'>We've been having communication problems and I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry for everything I did to you. I really am, please believe that. Please understand that this is not as easy to me as it may be to you. You can't push me to be with people that I'm miserable with. I can't be happy and be miserable at the same time. It's unfair to me, more so unfair to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to lie anymore. If you can't let me be with the people who really love me, then I might lie. I did, that's why I don't want to do it anymore. It's better this way first. You'd hate me more if things weren't this way. I don't want that to happen. I'm sorry. I hope you understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-116291782120050147?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/116291782120050147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=116291782120050147&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116291782120050147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116291782120050147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/11/somewhere-in-middle.html' title='Somewhere in the middle'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-116174990859853281</id><published>2006-10-25T12:43:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T21:24:05.386+09:00</updated><title type='text'>A Thank You</title><content type='html'>I have never questioned Friendship until now. It sucks 'cause just when you think you're at that time in your life when you already have a set of friends you think of as dependable, trustworthy, and loving, something happens and you just can't do anything about it but cry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So before fate surprises me again, I'll take this chance to thank my angels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TAKER: Thank you for being the only friend in the You and Me group who actually cares. You're the one who constantly checks up on me. You reassured to me that there are still friends capable of proving the real essence of friendship. I love you for being you. When you think I'm selfish, you tell it straight to my face. When you think I'm getting fatter, you say it. When you think I'm pretty, you say it. (Wahaha) I'm planning to keep you for the rest of my life, whether you like it or not. Thank you. You don't know how much I need people like you in my life. I love you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAR ans NING: My dear bestfriends. Even if we don't see each other that often, I know nothing changes. THAT'S HOW TRUE FRIENDS ARE TESTED. Even with all the separation, everything's just the same the next time you see each other. You guys give the right advices all the time, I admire you for knowing a person too much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JACQ: Quality and Quantity! People tried to tear us apart, we both know that. I was mad at you for a time but you never left my side. We tolerate each other but when it comes down to us getting caught with anything we've done, we're not like other people who just leave their friends hanging and not feeling sorry for anything. We're one in a million. You're one in a million, even when we don't agree on a lot of things. I love you for being you because you're unique, and not misunderstood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MC People: You guys light up my life. You never fail to make me smile, especially when I'm totally down. Together, we may not be the most mature people, but we do know know how to treasure everyone who's in the group. You guys will always be my rainbow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANJI: We have been friends since Grade School and my God, we never change! When together, we can talk about anything and everything! It's nice that we're closer again. I missed you..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOCH: Thank you for always listening to all sides of any story. You were never biased. You know what's right and what's wrong. I can always run to you, we both know that. Thank you for always making me feel safe when I'm with you. Come to think of it, even when I'm not with you, I still feel safe knowing you're my friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TIFF: For always listening, thank you. You've been always there for me. Haha I was laughing really hard the other night. Sobrang senti ko yata sayo the other day. You know, the whole "Tiff, I'm sorry ek-ek" Don't get me wrong though, I meant everything I said to you. I always do. I hope you're happy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOYA, THEA, VIR, TETEL, AMP, DIVI, PAT: The new faces. Haha. You guys have been with me everyday during those moments when I needed someone to hold me and keep me strong enough to get Aidz back. Thank you for keeping me sane. I love you all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MY COUSINS: It's so rare that you see cousins who are also close friends. I'm happy we're close. I've been missing the Sunday get togethers because of the damn work but I hope you know I would be doing anything to be with you guys again if I can. Babawi din ako. Anais, thanks for listening even if you were so bothered that day at Cantina. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AIDZ: You'll always be one of my best friends. Thank you for giving me another chance to prove myself. I love you, I always will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's never a right time to say goodbye, but I'm gonna try. Goodbye to you who I thought was my dear friend. I'm starting a new life, and much as I want you to be there, I simply can't because my heart's still not willing enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-116174990859853281?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/116174990859853281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=116174990859853281&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116174990859853281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116174990859853281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/10/thank-you.html' title='A Thank You'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-116077643216667507</id><published>2006-10-14T06:24:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T06:53:52.220+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Crash and Burn</title><content type='html'>I just did the biggest mistake of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say love is all about trust, loyalty, honesty. Guess I screwed that up big time. But Bub, I was in a very low point in my life. It was so wrong. I was so selfish not to think of what you might think. Or react. Or feel. God, I really wasn't thinking then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry. I've never meant the word sorry like this, so please, just take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's gonna be hard for me to let you leave cause frankly, it's worse than dying. It was all so sudden. One phone call and it's all over. I can't lose you now, but I understand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me whatever you want, curse me as mant times as you want, I'd gladly accept it. Just don't ever doubt my love for you. I was our biggest fan. It's so often that we find ourselves in that true love that a lot of people look for. I made a mistake, but that doesn't prove that my love for you is not real at all. I love you, as simple as that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bub, You know I'll always be waiting. I'm sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-116077643216667507?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/116077643216667507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=116077643216667507&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116077643216667507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/116077643216667507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/10/crash-and-burn.html' title='Crash and Burn'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-115761236377781165</id><published>2006-09-07T15:53:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T04:20:39.530+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Pardon me while I burst</title><content type='html'>Ive had enough of the world and people's mindless&lt;br /&gt;games. Pardon me, pardon me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried reaching out, honeyS. God knows how much I wanted to reach out, I swear. Thing is, you didnt respond. Not even a smile from you to make things way better. It's so true. All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade away. You're too far for me to hold now, dear. And to think I expected to hold you, my loved ones, for as long as forever. You're just way too far. I wanted to, but I guess you want to move&lt;br /&gt;farther and farther. How can that be possible? Where the hell did I go wrong? I lost a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes get teary-eyed thinking about the lost possibility. We could've been friends forever. What's stopping us now, anyway? God, how I hope it's not hatred. I love you still for me not to accept the possibility that it's anger that's keeping us back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need you to hear me. I need you to stop. I need you not to stop. Understand? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look, I've been starting everything with an I. Stop with all the "you guys". For all you know, there's "us guys"  who's hurt all the time with all you're "you guys".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hurts, you know. One day you wake up and its not the same. I get through the day fine, happy in most days, but when I begin to think of the US, it's like waking&lt;br /&gt;up to a whole new reality. Sometimes, I don't want to accept the fact its true, but what can I ever do when you want things the way they are now? And if by any chance that you actually don't want this situation, I don't feel that feeling from you at all. You once told me you miss me. I do too, dear. But after that, what?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you guys feel it too? I know you're not that jaded. So what's the point of all these drama? It's not amusing anymore. Day after day we move farther from each other. Don't you feel anything at all?! I hope you're not asuming that I want this for us 'cause I really don't. Shit, I have so many fucking questions. Why does this have to happen anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just tell me now, what will it be?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-115761236377781165?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/115761236377781165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=115761236377781165&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/115761236377781165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/115761236377781165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/09/pardon-me-while-i-burst.html' title='Pardon me while I burst'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-115750520494192914</id><published>2006-09-06T09:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T10:13:25.000+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Honeyversarry</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7662/639/1600/2655102705679l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7662/639/320/2655102705679l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years man.Who would have thought?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is not love which alters when alterations finds it, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh no,it is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wandering barque, whose worth's unknown although his height be taken. Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come. Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom.&lt;br /&gt;- W. Shakespeare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I'm with you Bub, I feel the safest. Being with you shows me that even with all the hatred in this fucked up world, there's this one person who can make things way better. I love you always, that will never alter. Happy Anniversary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-115750520494192914?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/115750520494192914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=115750520494192914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/115750520494192914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/115750520494192914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/09/honeyversarry.html' title='Honeyversarry'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-115595714139375592</id><published>2006-08-19T10:16:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T12:19:01.793+09:00</updated><title type='text'>All in a day's work</title><content type='html'>Work 1: Tyler&lt;br /&gt;I feel so unproductive lately. Blanche, our Assistant Store Operations Manager, told me that I'm recently the highest seller for Tyler Rockwell. (YABANG) That felt really really really really good! HOWEVER, that made me really really really really LAZY as well, assuming that since I've been doing pretty darn well for the last few weeks, I have the right to  be useless when I want to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work 2: Community Service&lt;br /&gt;Fuck community service! All because of those stupid brown lines on my shoes, I have to work my ass off for 50 hours before August 31. Otherwise, they'll be adding more hours! 23 hours more and I'm so done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;WOOPPPPPPPSSSSSSSSSSSSS! Hold UP!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I'm actually in an internet cafe waiting for somebody to wake up. Been here for an hour already. Anyway....... This guy beside me "secretly" passed me a note saying: Hi, I'm Nico. I'm really not sure with what I'm doing but I've been looking at you for awhile now. You look like a really nice chinita. (WTF!? First of all, for the nth time, I am so not a chinita! I have one of the biggest eyes even I have ever seen! Second, should I be satisfied with nice? Nice is NOT a nice word, honey. Wahaha)&lt;br /&gt;I was wondering if I could get your name and number, if it's OK. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked straight at him and said politely said NO. Wahahaha! Feeling ako fucker!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-115595714139375592?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/115595714139375592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=115595714139375592&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/115595714139375592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/115595714139375592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/08/all-in-days-work.html' title='All in a day&apos;s work'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-115533560698948960</id><published>2006-08-12T07:15:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-08-12T16:37:58.923+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Didn't know I was looking for cows until I found you.</title><content type='html'>I swear, I didn't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obesity + Patheticness + Isolation (yet always trying to belong) = Perfect Combination&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honey, wasn't long enough til I saw what everybody was seeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God! I forgot to check my mail this morning! If only I checked it a little bit earlier, then I could have gone to Topshop's Private Sale instead! I must admit, it's so rare that I am "exclusively" invited to these types of sales tapos I missed it pa! And to think I was in Rockwell already. Plus it's Topshop! Minsan lang ako magkapera for it tapos wala na.. Gone... It's a one day thing obviously not meant for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7662/639/1600/ShowLetter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7662/639/400/ShowLetter.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero ok lang (comfort oneself when deppressed), I have new shoes naman e thanks to Sugar dearest. Actually it's thanks to Nica. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck. I sound like a dumb blonde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hafta go. Happy birthday to KC later! Hotel (hopefully) here we come!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-115533560698948960?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/115533560698948960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=115533560698948960&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/115533560698948960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/115533560698948960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/08/didnt-know-i-was-looking-for-cows.html' title='Didn&apos;t know I was looking for cows until I found you.'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9018991.post-115482686475090661</id><published>2006-08-06T09:57:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-08-06T10:14:24.763+09:00</updated><title type='text'>What's your beef with me, boy?!</title><content type='html'>The hell with the rest of the world, I'm having the time of my life right now! I'm actually getting way better grades this sem. I love my part-time job PLUS Aidz and I have been CONSISTENTLY happy recently. I see to it that I still have time with my friends and time for myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's bothering me now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All good things will come to an end sooner or later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh-oh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9018991-115482686475090661?l=karkar0905.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/feeds/115482686475090661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9018991&amp;postID=115482686475090661&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/115482686475090661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9018991/posts/default/115482686475090661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://karkar0905.blogspot.com/2006/08/whats-your-beef-with-me-boy.html' title='What&apos;s your beef with me, boy?!'/><author><name>Karen Sangalang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10531589711778651211</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
