<?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-5109720</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:45:43.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So Little Time</title><subtitle type='html'>Mia's Blog</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109720.post-106632522161169122</id><published>2003-10-16T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-16T10:27:01.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;What Would Matter?&lt;/strong&gt; Was thinking about death, but seems you can't think about death without thinking about life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were told that you were to die tommorow, what would be the things that would matter to you?&lt;br /&gt;Material things would be worthless if you could no longer posess them.&lt;br /&gt;Goals would be meaningless if they were yet to be achieved.&lt;br /&gt;And even your dreams, and your deepest most profound thoughts would die with you, if you had not realized them or brought them to life somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apprehensions, fear, and doubt... oh, these things would be so trivial.  But what would matter would be the times you cast them aside to reveal who you were - to do and say what it was in your heart to.  Times when you were true to yourself and did not let the incidentals of this world stop you from going where you wished, loving who you wished, and being who you were.  Such times you would not regret, as they were spent not in the pursual of some objective or possession that was not yours to keep, nor fussing over things that don't even figure in the greater scheme of things.  Such times you would treasure if you knew there would be no more "next time", no more "later", and no more tommorow.&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/5109720-106632522161169122?l=solittleoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/106632522161169122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/106632522161169122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/2003_10_12_archive.html#106632522161169122' title=''/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109720.post-105801351842816953</id><published>2003-07-12T05:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-07-12T05:38:38.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;What happened to you this week? - June 30&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the hangover.&lt;br /&gt;Jack hammer on head&lt;br /&gt;black hole inside head&lt;br /&gt;Stomach churning&lt;br /&gt;Gagging on own breath&lt;br /&gt;If my body could speak it'd say&lt;br /&gt;"Ah fuck you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;brain downsizing&lt;br /&gt;getting rid of departments deemed 'redundant'&lt;br /&gt;comprehension - nope, don't need that one&lt;br /&gt;sentence formation (spoken) - 'fraid we're letting you go&lt;br /&gt;short term memory - we regret to inform you that...&lt;br /&gt;time estimation - what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;trying to remember biology class&lt;br /&gt;"the gag reflex is induced by introducing a foreign object..."&lt;br /&gt;drat, just trashed that bottle of french perfume.  &lt;br /&gt;"into the throat."&lt;br /&gt;*cough*...hmmm...nothing&lt;br /&gt;"A deeper intrusion invokes a stronger reaction"&lt;br /&gt;*cough cough*....hmmm....perhaps I am above this primal bodily function&lt;br /&gt;"there are two openings at the back of the throat "&lt;br /&gt;Two?! Well that explains it... &lt;br /&gt;"One leads to the lungs and carries air, the other to the stomach and carries..."&lt;br /&gt;And we thought science was such a useless subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/5109720-105801351842816953?l=solittleoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/105801351842816953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/105801351842816953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/2003_07_06_archive.html#105801351842816953' title=''/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109720.post-105801210284597602</id><published>2003-07-12T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-07-12T05:15:02.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"What happened to you this week?" July 7 2003 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This new section was inspired by my teacher who asked me this today.  Here I will write about  the most significant happening fo the week, whether it be about work, family, friends, or personal shit. - description, feelings, learnings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the happening can be summed up as "Operation Destroy-Ice Tea-Field Sales Department".  Fortunately I failed at this mission but did manage to fluster them a bit.  In truth I had good intentions, I wanted to get a job done.  However, I decided to take the long way round... I didn't ask before I acted so all my subsequent actions while quite resourceful and clever, were misguided.  I hassled a couple of people more than they needed to be, but on the flip side I think I did some other people's jobs for them.  Thing is I don't who these people are as of present.   I actually don't know how far I was supposed to get involved in this matter, I'll find out when my boss gets back Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well to put in perspective, I didn't really screw anything up, just hassled more people than I needed to, and perhaps spent more time and energy on something than I needed to.  I think... actually I really won't know until Monday.  Ok Ok lets look at this productively...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I didn't ask my boss on the steps I needed to take when i heard of the problem&lt;br /&gt;IN MY DEFENSE: I'm supposed to lead implentation and not bother my boss with details&lt;br /&gt;AGAINST ME: If you don't know what you're doing ask - this was always made clear to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- My boss, nor anyone else for that matter, did not make it clear to me what my role is exactly in this element of the project.&lt;br /&gt;IN MY DEFENSE: I took the intiative to set things straight&lt;br /&gt;AGAINST ME: Again, If you have questions, ASK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Whatever happened the situation is resolved anyway&lt;br /&gt;IN MY DEFENSE: at least I was able to solve a problem and learn along the way&lt;br /&gt;AGAINST ME: you made the problem in the first place smart ass.  Next, if you had consulted, the problem could have been resolved in a more efficient way beneficial to all parties involved.  Thus, if you don't know what you're doing.... yes... ask.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So can we guess what the key learning is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will update this journal once i talk to my boss on Monday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5109720-105801210284597602?l=solittleoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/105801210284597602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/105801210284597602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/2003_07_06_archive.html#105801210284597602' title=''/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109720.post-105800706410977296</id><published>2003-07-12T03:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-07-12T03:51:03.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>cont'd from the last post&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MUSIC section&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just starting to get to know Fiona Apple.  She came out with her debut album like ages ago, but while I heard some tracks like Criminal and Paper Bag later on, I never really got to listen to her songs.  Thanks to Neil for bringing his CD in. &lt;em&gt;Never is a promise&lt;/em&gt; is definitely my song of the mo...  It's sort of distant, unfathomable, and infinitely sad but... relatable (is that a word?  WHo cares, as Bry says it's all semantics).  No infinitely sad is not the phrase to describe it.  Will listen more and get back to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And remember that depth is the greatest of heights&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Fiona Apple&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/5109720-105800706410977296?l=solittleoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/105800706410977296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/105800706410977296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/2003_07_06_archive.html#105800706410977296' title=''/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109720.post-105750528538767319</id><published>2003-07-06T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-07-06T08:28:05.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok so almost two months since last entry, and almost a month into my job at Unilever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The things that have been on my mind lately.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- AT WORK: Trying to be useful, learning that it's harder that I thought, learning how important focus and the will to work really are.  Trying to see where I fit in, to figure out how my boss works, to like majorly UPGRADE my organizational skill which STINK if I may be so honest with myself.  What do I know though..... I know that I have a lot to learn and am eager to learn it all.  I know that I will mess up but that I shouldn't kick myself for it... REMEMBER THIS REMEMBER THIS!  it's all part of the learning.  I know that I will have to work for my breaks because really, in the grand scale of things, I'm a nobody who has yet to apply herself and get results.  I also know that I can go somewhere career-wise, but have to put my act together. I CAN DO IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to come up with specific goals, my teacher said it would help.  Like a very long term goal, then a long term goal, then a short term goal, then a goal for the year, goal for the month, goal for the week etc. etc. that's all linked up adn will help me monitor my progress and make necessary adjustments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- AT HOME: Thinking about what my role is.  Knowing that sometimes I harm more than I help, and trying to figure out how to deal with that, how to be better.  Also, knowing that people are just doing their own thing most of the time, and not of malicious intention as often as I think they are.  So, just let people be who they are and don't jump to conclusions.  I've been trying to talk about REAL things with my family more.  Like asking the questions that I'm normally afraid to ask, telling them things I wouldn't usually be comfortable be talking about.  my dad said something about how as family we should always try to help each other improve, talking honetly about things helps a lot.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;- ON MY OWN: Been pondering about lies and truth and how often I've believed in the former and convinced myself that it was the latter.  I've found that sometimes writing down my thoughts helps me make better sense of them.  it helped me this one night when something was troubling me and I couldn't sleep.  Hmmm what else.... I've been meeting a lot of new people now that i'm out of school and I've been loving it... i've found that the world's pretty small once you get out of your own small world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, and love's been on my mind a bit.  Just wondering about stability vs. connection/passion and am hoping that I can land a two-in-one package, and don't have to choose between the two if that's possible :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- ON MY KNEES: Considering the new life (at work and all) and the big dreams and goals I have, I have not been praying too much.  As in this week I prayed once, on SUnday in mass.  Must try to establish a healthy praying habit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People Section&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor: I'm concerned.  I want to help without sticking my nose in too much.  But also thinking.. it's Trevor's life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilo: Been talking more, got a lot of shit out in the open which is good.  Makes the friendship more honest, based on the truth, and closer :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lawrence: Getting doubts about certain things.  Need to express my concerns before they get bigger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Japayuki: Is really the shit.  So glad I found a great person and great friend in her.  Should try to be there for her more during these new times and, well just being there instead of always trying to be a traffic officer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oscar:  Understanding him more and judging less.  Really have to devote more time to him though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be cont'd....&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/5109720-105750528538767319?l=solittleoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/105750528538767319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/105750528538767319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/2003_07_06_archive.html#105750528538767319' title=''/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109720.post-94319822</id><published>2003-05-14T03:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-05-14T03:04:09.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Some quotes from songs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure of yourself?  Would you lie if you're not?"&lt;br /&gt; -Texas, Put your Arms Around Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hunger hurts but starving works, when it costs too much to love."&lt;br /&gt;- Fiona Apple, Paper Bag&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Give up yourself unto the moment"&lt;br /&gt;- Moloko, The Time is Now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5109720-94319822?l=solittleoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/94319822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/94319822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94319822' title=''/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109720.post-94318958</id><published>2003-05-14T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-05-14T02:32:50.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Was in Dumaguete from April 23 to May 6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was not aware that I could enjoy being in the province for more than 3 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was not aware that I could get sick of _the city_.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5109720-94318958?l=solittleoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/94318958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/94318958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94318958' title=''/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109720.post-94318843</id><published>2003-05-14T02:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-05-14T02:28:34.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I went to Boracay April 13-19.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5109720-94318843?l=solittleoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/94318843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/94318843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94318843' title=''/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109720.post-94318649</id><published>2003-05-14T02:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-05-14T02:25:06.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's summer now.  Summer is like new year's, like Christmas.  A marker in the year... a time when you pause, party, look back and look forward and get to start things all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love summer.  It's like being on a spring board, a high one that took ages to get up to.  But from where you can see far around you, and from where everything seems so small.  And from where you can see how things fit together, and what the big picture really looks like.  "Oh i never knew the road curved that way" or "Hey I didn't think the mall was so close to the club" or "Tito Boy is balding pala!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you can't get stuck... that's the thing.  Look down too long and you're never going to jump.  Glance around a bit, test the springs, allow yourself a quick nervous laugh then just f*cking walk over that thing already and prepare to scream.&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/5109720-94318649?l=solittleoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/94318649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/94318649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/2003_05_11_archive.html#94318649' title=''/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109720.post-89849084</id><published>2003-02-27T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-02-27T10:22:52.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's sort of unsettling how things can just end, so suddenly just like that.  It struck me on the last day of basketball training a few weeks ago.  I got home and I looked at my closet and at the one drawer I had devoted to training clothes: shorts I liked to wear, the shirts that went with them, jerseys, shirts that were to be worn after training - these were the shirts that were sort of old already -extra shorts i bought because they often couldn't get washed in time.  I looked at my bathroom and the stocks of small-sized shampoo and liquid soap bottles for my toiletries bag that I would bring especially for training. All part of a system that I carefully put together to make things more organized and convenient for myself.  Each part of it well-thought out.  All part of a system, and all now next to useless.  I don't need that many shorts because I don't exercise everyday, the shampoo will stay in my bathroom, the jerseys in my drawer.  Just there, and out of use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sort of like the room of an old man who died, sitting so still now without him.  Covers that are never pulled down, curtains that are never stirred.  A rack of shirts hung neatly side by side. Hats piled upon a bed post.  A jar of pommade next to a matchbox and a yellow candle, lid tightly screwed on.  A bottle of talc placed on the dresser so as to be easily found after a shower.  Near empty, just waiting.  Next to it, a plastic comb, free of loose hairs.  He would always swipe his bents finger across its teeth before setting it down, and patting his hair with his hands.  Just the other day he did this.  Just the other day he twisted the door knob and shuffled across the hall.  Thinking about the day's plan, and that he would remind the help to buy more powder .  It's sort of unsettling how things can just end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5109720-89849084?l=solittleoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/89849084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/89849084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/2003_02_23_archive.html#89849084' title=''/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5109720.post-89848937</id><published>2003-02-27T09:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-02-27T09:43:57.623-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hi I've had a makeover. Thank you to Lea for the correction: it's not &lt;i&gt;horas&lt;/i&gt; it's &lt;i&gt;oras!&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5109720-89848937?l=solittleoras.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/89848937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5109720/posts/default/89848937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://solittleoras.blogspot.com/2003_02_23_archive.html#89848937' title=''/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11297073143948853766</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></entry></feed>
