<?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-3968198617615434082</id><updated>2011-07-08T01:04:24.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>xtinee*</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>86</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-500616305190052963</id><published>2011-02-03T20:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T20:53:39.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;div class="post_title" style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; font: normal normal bold 22px/normal Arial, Helvetica; line-height: 1.3; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 0px !important; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;I always wonder why birds choose to stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on the Earth. Then I ask myself the same question.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: 0px; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 0px !important; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;— Harun Yahya&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-500616305190052963?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/500616305190052963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=500616305190052963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/500616305190052963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/500616305190052963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-always-wonder-why-birds-choose-to.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1876797148643822973</id><published>2010-05-31T20:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T17:47:49.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Fill your life with purpose instead of mourning what's missing."&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1876797148643822973?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1876797148643822973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1876797148643822973' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1876797148643822973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1876797148643822973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/05/fill-your-life-with-purpose-instead-of.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-838582220367891385</id><published>2010-05-06T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T20:01:25.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Irene &amp; Xtine's Adventures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S-LxnKV9RTI/AAAAAAAAAPI/t8V3w6nbzuA/s1600/map.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 295px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S-LxnKV9RTI/AAAAAAAAAPI/t8V3w6nbzuA/s400/map.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468198552674846002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-838582220367891385?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/838582220367891385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=838582220367891385' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/838582220367891385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/838582220367891385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/05/irene-xtines-adventures.html' title='Irene &amp; Xtine&apos;s Adventures'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S-LxnKV9RTI/AAAAAAAAAPI/t8V3w6nbzuA/s72-c/map.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-7212275515375148955</id><published>2010-04-28T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T19:33:09.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Schulich Formal 2010</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Liberty Grand, Lakeshore Toronto.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cheers to a wonderful night and a great 4 years with all these girls!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9iDkr12VDI/AAAAAAAAAOg/2L6vAMv48gE/s1600/grad11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9iDkr12VDI/AAAAAAAAAOg/2L6vAMv48gE/s400/grad11.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465262814081209394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9iDkr12VDI/AAAAAAAAAOg/2L6vAMv48gE/s1600/grad11.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Chinese-Accounting Crew.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9iDcfdaMBI/AAAAAAAAAOY/R7Zl8HtaZUo/s1600/grad8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9iDcfdaMBI/AAAAAAAAAOY/R7Zl8HtaZUo/s400/grad8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465262673318522898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9iDcfdaMBI/AAAAAAAAAOY/R7Zl8HtaZUo/s1600/grad8.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me &amp;amp; the 3 stooges. Many many memories :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9iCqrwobmI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/zmxhLIwnlyE/s1600/grad10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9iCqrwobmI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/zmxhLIwnlyE/s400/grad10.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465261817626914402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me &amp;amp; two barbies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Courtyard.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;Photos Courtesy of Justin Chung.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hc6Mgv08I/AAAAAAAAAOI/v-Sv2byLgg0/s1600/grad7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hc6Mgv08I/AAAAAAAAAOI/v-Sv2byLgg0/s400/grad7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465220302674842562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hc6Mgv08I/AAAAAAAAAOI/v-Sv2byLgg0/s1600/grad7.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hczaq8OqI/AAAAAAAAAOA/-d83ocphP1Y/s1600/grad6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hczaq8OqI/AAAAAAAAAOA/-d83ocphP1Y/s400/grad6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465220186216610466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hczaq8OqI/AAAAAAAAAOA/-d83ocphP1Y/s1600/grad6.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hcnWgZVNI/AAAAAAAAAN4/wi-dFT0_CtE/s1600/grad4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hcnWgZVNI/AAAAAAAAAN4/wi-dFT0_CtE/s400/grad4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465219978940208338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hcnWgZVNI/AAAAAAAAAN4/wi-dFT0_CtE/s1600/grad4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hcVYrSVcI/AAAAAAAAANw/3U-HU3mYZlE/s1600/grad3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hcVYrSVcI/AAAAAAAAANw/3U-HU3mYZlE/s400/grad3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465219670285112770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hcVYrSVcI/AAAAAAAAANw/3U-HU3mYZlE/s1600/grad3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hZ-hv_YmI/AAAAAAAAANo/x_OOdF3hiQM/s1600/grad2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hZ-hv_YmI/AAAAAAAAANo/x_OOdF3hiQM/s400/grad2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465217078560514658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hZ-hv_YmI/AAAAAAAAANo/x_OOdF3hiQM/s1600/grad2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9jWfiHo61I/AAAAAAAAAO4/Z1crk970B3o/s1600/IMG_0965.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9jWfiHo61I/AAAAAAAAAO4/Z1crk970B3o/s400/IMG_0965.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465353985037232978" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9jWDsqbYUI/AAAAAAAAAOw/oDdszT9k6kY/s1600/IMG_1128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9jWDsqbYUI/AAAAAAAAAOw/oDdszT9k6kY/s400/IMG_1128.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465353506831163714" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9hZ34-GwUI/AAAAAAAAANY/QR_ZMmmk0N0/s1600/grad.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What a night filled with good food, good company, and dancing.. :)  Also my favourite Prof won a Teachers Excellence award and we got to chat for a bit after! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;hehe :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-7212275515375148955?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/7212275515375148955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=7212275515375148955' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7212275515375148955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7212275515375148955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/04/schulich-formal-2010.html' title='Schulich Formal 2010'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S9iDkr12VDI/AAAAAAAAAOg/2L6vAMv48gE/s72-c/grad11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1399241965154883894</id><published>2010-04-20T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T20:13:47.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Always a John and never a hooker.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://30.media.tumblr.com/mPfJrixY4q5u606d2dpjPPFOo1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 476px; height: 700px;" src="http://30.media.tumblr.com/mPfJrixY4q5u606d2dpjPPFOo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought this was very out there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1399241965154883894?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1399241965154883894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1399241965154883894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1399241965154883894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1399241965154883894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/04/always-john-and-never-hooker.html' title='Always a John and never a hooker.'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-6885193166483519011</id><published>2010-04-12T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T07:13:30.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bend but don't Break</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.veer.com/IMG/PIMG/GSP/GSP0003879_P.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 315px; height: 400px;" src="http://images.veer.com/IMG/PIMG/GSP/GSP0003879_P.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lately I've been reading one of Charlotte Bronte's greatest novels, &lt;b&gt;Jane Eyre&lt;/b&gt;. I bought it because I thought the cover was pretty and elegant, and naturally I thought the story would unfold likewise. But I was wrong. Bronte tells a romance &lt;i&gt;without&lt;/i&gt; the glittery fashion, dreamy Edward eyes, or butterflies.  Instead, she gives you a very &lt;i&gt;sober&lt;/i&gt; and honest situation between two stubborn, less-than-perfect individuals (i.e. Jane isn't your typical delicate beauty and the fancy Mr. Rochester is far from a handsome young prince). Hence with unattractive characters and 600 pages, what attracts readers to liken this novel so much? For me, it's their honest feelings for each other, &lt;b&gt;the feeling of fear and love stirred together&lt;/b&gt;. Although Mr. Rochester may be old and stern, his heart for Jane has me crushing on him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I would like to share this one dialogue between them:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jane&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;: I suppose your love will effervesce in six months, or less. I have observed in books written by men, that period assigned as the farthest to which a husband's ardour extends...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mr. Rochester&lt;/b&gt;:&lt;/i&gt; Distasteful! I think I shall like you again and yet again: and I will make you confess I do not only like, but &lt;i&gt;love&lt;/i&gt; you-- with truth, fervour, constancy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jane&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;: Yet are you not capricious, sir?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mr. R&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;: To women who please me only by their faces, I am the very devil when I find out they have neither souls nor hearts...but to the clear eye and eloquent tongue, to the soul made of fire, and the character that bends but does not break, I am ever tender and true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jane&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;: Have you ever experience of such a character, sir? Did you ever love such an one?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mr. R&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;: I love it now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-6885193166483519011?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/6885193166483519011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=6885193166483519011' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6885193166483519011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6885193166483519011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/04/true-feelings.html' title='Bend but don&apos;t Break'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-4527818701267206971</id><published>2010-04-10T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T19:59:10.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S8C_f12aXoI/AAAAAAAAAMo/lNNVME42cQE/s1600/schulich.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S8C_f12aXoI/AAAAAAAAAMo/lNNVME42cQE/s400/schulich.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458573302125190786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;4 years of this. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-4527818701267206971?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/4527818701267206971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=4527818701267206971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4527818701267206971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4527818701267206971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/04/4-years-of-this.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S8C_f12aXoI/AAAAAAAAAMo/lNNVME42cQE/s72-c/schulich.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-8718369137916664392</id><published>2010-03-24T21:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T22:30:17.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Honesty is a crinkled heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;"... it’s not about cherry-wood flooring. No, life is about love and truly experiencing the beauty we are meant to know."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; - K.H., Nella's story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;I read this story twice in a row and a third time the next day because it was such a touching story... it wasn't so much the content or moral of her story that hit me, rather it was the author's honesty. She was completely honest with her emotions and it made me really appreciate her writing, her story. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;To quickly reiterate, she told of her experience giving birth to a daughter with down syndrome- her first reaction, her train of thoughts, the emotional pain, and the hours upon hours of crying.. She wrote about how she wanted to run away with her first daughter and their perfect "cupcake" world because she didn't want to face this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;different&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; life her new child would bring. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;As I was reading this story, my heart crinkled.. and it wasn't so much for the story.. but, again, for the telling of the story. She was so real to herself and about what she was afraid of. Then I started to think: "Am I being honest with myself?.. maybe, maybe not.. and if not, why not?" I went through a string of why's and kept turning in circles until I decided to continue reading her story through to the end. And that's when reading the quote above stopped my circling... That I am very afraid to stray away from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; cupcake world. I know life is more but am I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;experiencing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt; it? Am I really being sincere about the relationships in my life? Do I understand love, know love, and have love? These questions, I hope, won't bother me for long as I try to be less naive and more aware. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Well the beautiful part about her story is that it ends with a tearful smile. In her &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;complete &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;honesty, she found truth.. and truth is love&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-8718369137916664392?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/8718369137916664392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=8718369137916664392' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8718369137916664392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8718369137916664392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/03/honesty-is-crinkled-heart.html' title='Honesty is a crinkled heart'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-6824772765902758948</id><published>2010-03-16T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T21:08:42.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Instead of's"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was reading up on this girl's blog about characteristics she wants to strive for and I felt like I could relate completely.. here's a list of a few of hers with some of mine..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; color: rgb(153, 51, 0); "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;Timeless instead of trendy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;Generous instead of entitled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;Patient instead of prideful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;em style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: italic; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-style: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "&gt;Humbled instead of narcissistic. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;Controlled instead of given up.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Letting go instead of holding on.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-6824772765902758948?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/6824772765902758948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=6824772765902758948' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6824772765902758948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6824772765902758948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/03/instead-ofs.html' title='&quot;Instead of&apos;s&quot;'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-908592306929859258</id><published>2010-03-15T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T08:38:42.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Entry</title><content type='html'>Again, another night of peace-less sleep and tossing and turning. So what happened in my dream this time? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My friend Emily and I were aboard this sleek-looking futuristic jet and we were taken to another planet filled with deep blue waters with the exception of bits and pieces of islands and mountains. Getting past the atmosphere was extremely rough .. like very intense turbulence.. and just as I thought I was about to die getting there, we got there, in one piece. We landed on this tiny island, surrounded by crystal blue water with all these native people holding staffs in their hands, dancing and playing.. and actually, I'm almost embarrassed to say that I even dreamed about this but some of the people were tall and blue (like the Na'vi people from Avatar).. Anyway! We got off the jet and started to roam around the area. After just being in awe of the place and the fact that we were on a different planet, we decided to go on this boat tour for snorkeling, or so we thought it was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This is when a series of problems started to happen.. as we were swimming, the water turned really violent and I was struggling to keep my head above the water AND for some reason I couldn't zip-up my lifejacket, so I was clinging on to it not trying to drown. Finally, my friend came to help me and we both swam back to the boat where everyone was retreating. With everyone on board, the boat suddenly lifted off from the raging waters and the next thing I noticed, we were flying. Also, there weren't enough seats so I was clinging on a pole for my life as the boat-turned-helicopter (with no doors or railings) was making circles in the air flying to another destination. I remember thinking I was going to be whipped out of the boat and be eaten by those waters. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The turbulent flying settles and we start cruising over these great big mountains.. but it was odd because there was ice and snow everywhere.. no more green tress and pearly white sand. It was as if we suddenly ended up in the arctic. I looked down and saw two people struggling to kayak in a stream of ice cold water with huge clumps of snow falling on them. I turned to the person sitting next to me that I don't think they were going to make it. I looked back at the kayakers and couldn't find a trace of them... it was so freaky. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Finally the boat landed on some solid ground and we all got out. I realized why we were taken here.. because it's the best view of the mountains. Honestly, even if I could paint a picture of what I dreamed about, it wouldn't do justice. The scenery was breath-taking. Picture vast mountains with snow-capped tops stretching as far east and west as your eye can possibly reach. The sky is a mix of pink, red, orange, yellow, blue and purple.. with scattered clouds. The sun is peaking behind bare trees hundreds of feet tall. It was so beautiful.. all the tourists were taking so many photos. We walked down a steep icy path between those tall trees to get to the edge of the cliff, where you could see the canyon deep below. I didn't make it to the edge because of some things that happened along the pathway. First, some of us were stopped in our tracks when we saw a bat hanging on a tree branch sticking right in the middle of the pathway. Apparently our tour guide told us that it was a vicious bat that killed people when they got in its way. So we slowly turned around and quickly tried to climb back up the icy pathway but the ground was shaking and snow was falling like a mini avalanche. We couldn't get back up the path because everything was too icy to grab hold of. Then I heard the bat screech and flap its wings and whoever could jumped behind a tree trunk. The bat attacked one person who couldn't hide themselves in time by bitting them. Then as the bat flew away everyone scrambled to get back to the flying boat. But suddenly, a little boy stopped the tour guide and said that he was missing his mom and dad. The tour guide couldn't leave anyone left behind so we tried to search for them. Just then, I slipped and fell on my back sliding down the pathway until I got to the very edge and grabbed onto a branch for my dear life. I then heard someone faintly crying for help and I realized it was the mom and dad. The parents were stuck between branches and were also seconds away from those branches snapping and them falling to their deaths. A man finally appeared at the top and lowered a rope. I was the first in reach so I grabbed onto it and in a chain form, the dad grabbed onto my leg and his wife held onto his leg. The man at the top tried pulling us up but it didn't seem to work because the wife was wrapped around branches that wouldn't let her loose. The next few moments is all I remember before waking up from this dream.. me and the parents were painfully stuck, holding on to a rope I thought wasn't going to hold us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So I woke up and I actually tried going back to sleep into that same dream to see what happened.. no luck :S&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Then what was even more ironic after waking up was that I went down to the kitchen to get a glass of water and I saw the front page newspaper talking about a snowmobiling tour gone wrong because of an avalanche in BC. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Anyway, I hope those survivors make it through alright and God be with the families of the 2 that couldn't make it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;     &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-908592306929859258?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/908592306929859258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=908592306929859258' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/908592306929859258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/908592306929859258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/03/dream-entry.html' title='Dream Entry'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-6823775065365964952</id><published>2010-03-10T05:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T20:00:42.145-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"&lt;i&gt;A life without cause is like a map without its compass.&lt;/i&gt;" - unknown.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/f1tVk-QlBKs&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/f1tVk-QlBKs&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-6823775065365964952?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/6823775065365964952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=6823775065365964952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6823775065365964952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6823775065365964952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/03/life-without-cause-is-like-map-without.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-2343322911165260665</id><published>2010-03-04T18:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T19:08:20.317-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff</title><content type='html'>I was reading the blog of one of my favourite authors, Donald Miller, and I came across an interesting point he made in an entry. Here he touches on the essence of the stories of heroes in the Bible.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; color: rgb(17, 17, 17); line-height: 22px; "&gt;&lt;strong style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; color: rgb(17, 17, 17); line-height: 22px; "&gt;&lt;strong style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;"In an age where we are taught through commercialism there should be no struggles in life &lt;/strong&gt;that the purchasing of a product won’t relieve, the Bible is incompatible. But the age of commercialism has let us down. Many have found their stuff has made life more meaningless. What we’ve forgotten is that every great story has to involve a difficult ambition, and must then travel through the land of conflict. The best stories have their protagonist wondering if they are going to make it. What scripture teaches us, then, is that God will be with us in that place, and will give us the strength to endure a hard thing."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;font-size:130%;color:#111111;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-2343322911165260665?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/2343322911165260665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=2343322911165260665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2343322911165260665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2343322911165260665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/03/stuff.html' title='Stuff'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-5376753908161489502</id><published>2010-03-04T08:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T09:09:51.151-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thailand</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Anyway want to come with me and Emily in MAY? :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.nationalgeographic.com/adventure/images/0611/adventure-travel/thailand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 484px; height: 341px;" src="http://www.nationalgeographic.com/adventure/images/0611/adventure-travel/thailand.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-5376753908161489502?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/5376753908161489502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=5376753908161489502' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5376753908161489502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5376753908161489502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/03/thailand.html' title='Thailand'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-7142022289509405713</id><published>2010-03-01T19:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T19:40:14.405-08:00</updated><title type='text'>procrastination</title><content type='html'>My first time snorkeling! The fish ate my bread roll so quickly... and they came so close I could have grabbed one. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d843079a958d6dab" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v5.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd843079a958d6dab%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331083394%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D408D11A210E8114A1F1A9EA0A40061B47C69353A.C8F2C8F390DAB18F513273DB7BA6D186FDA7BD7%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd843079a958d6dab%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DaJ1s44xaJoZLiwkkAO6I3YPO5A8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v5.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd843079a958d6dab%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331083394%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D408D11A210E8114A1F1A9EA0A40061B47C69353A.C8F2C8F390DAB18F513273DB7BA6D186FDA7BD7%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd843079a958d6dab%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DaJ1s44xaJoZLiwkkAO6I3YPO5A8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and GO CANADA :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-7142022289509405713?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/7142022289509405713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=7142022289509405713' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7142022289509405713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7142022289509405713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/03/procrastination.html' title='procrastination'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-3455803453816200639</id><published>2010-02-23T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T19:31:10.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>With wonders and wishes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S4SP2zzvakI/AAAAAAAAAK4/jpi9gE39lTw/s1600-h/crab.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S4SP2zzvakI/AAAAAAAAAK4/jpi9gE39lTw/s320/crab.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441632421553334850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So cute! I found this little guy crawling around on the beach. It looked a bit surreal.. it's eyes were pure black and seemed like they were floating or somethingg. Anyway! Punta Cana definitely lives up to its reputation as having the nicest beaches in Dominican. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2010 adventure travel #1 done! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What's next? I'm not quite sure (won't be thinking about it until April) but Em and I are hoping for Asia... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I think travelling is an addiction. After my Vegas/Canyon trip last July, all I could think about was going away again. Six months later after my Dominican trip, I can't wait till graduation so I can explore this world even more.. Even when I read about that School Ship that sank recently (thank God everyone was safe), I couldn't get over the fact that there's really such a thing as Breaker High.. travelling the world via ship in 5 months with other students.  Why didn't I think of that earlier?? I need to get myself a boat, gravol, snorkeling gear and bread!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Haha, I don't want to stay put...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Take me there, I wanna go there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-3455803453816200639?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/3455803453816200639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=3455803453816200639' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3455803453816200639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3455803453816200639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/02/with-wonders-and-wishes.html' title='With wonders and wishes'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S4SP2zzvakI/AAAAAAAAAK4/jpi9gE39lTw/s72-c/crab.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-4085773528430306387</id><published>2010-02-10T20:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T21:56:38.807-08:00</updated><title type='text'>popcorn time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S3ObmvzTWFI/AAAAAAAAAKo/klhrtVz-hCc/s1600-h/BoondockSaints-smoking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 171px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S3ObmvzTWFI/AAAAAAAAAKo/klhrtVz-hCc/s200/BoondockSaints-smoking.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436860265135298642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In recent weeks, I have watched a plethora of movies and wanted to give my 2 cents on a few.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S3OMAXnDrtI/AAAAAAAAAKI/NK4MKAqMrmc/s1600-h/BoondockSaints-smoking.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Boondock Saints&lt;/b&gt; (1999): cult classic - an amusing and witty crime thriller; 2 good-looking Irish brothers seeking to do justice by killing off mobsters in Boston city while being pursued by a pertinacious detective. The storyline has its rollercoaster effect, captivating indeed, with good punchlines, awesome acting, artistic choreography, and of course lots of action and blood with true moments of vulnerability and pain. It was unique and very slick.. overall, I'd give it an &lt;b&gt;8.8&lt;/b&gt;/10.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Feeling Minnesota&lt;/b&gt; (1996): I saw this on TV and decided to stay put and watch because Keanu Reeves and Cameron Diaz starred in it. I thought they'd be an awkward match that wouldn't work but I was wrong. Although this movie received bad reviews, I'd like to disagree and say I actually enjoyed it. It really took you deep into each character's world and after the first few moments they meet I was hooked on finding out until the end if they got to live happily ever after. It was about a former stripper (Diaz) who had a debt owed to a nightclub owner and so as repayment, he forced her to marry this dofus guy. At the wedding she unsuccessfully tries running away from, she ends up meeting her now-husband's ex-convict brother (Reeves). They instantly fall in love or she sees him as her last and only hope as they indiscreetly getaway to Vegas together. The rest of the movie is a huge chase build-up from the angry husband to the detective and the club owner and his pose. It was entertaining and comedic and I barely even noticed it was Reeves and Diaz playing these characters (which is a good thing). Also, Dan Aykroyd (i.e. Ghostbusters guy, Conehead father) was perfect for the part of the detective- hilarious and naive. And surprisingly the ending was great and put a smile to my face. A lot of action, anticipation/suspense, great characters, an underlying touch of romance... overall, I'd rate it &lt;b&gt;6.8&lt;/b&gt;/10. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Camille&lt;/b&gt; (2007): This was definitely a likable adventure/comedy/drama/romance film with two of my favourite good-looking actors - Sienna Miller and James Franco. Sienna was amazing in Factory Girl (I'll blog about that movie another time) and Franco was heart-melting in everything. Anyway,  the film is set in a small town about a very pessimistic petty-thief who marries his parole officer's niece, the most bubbly-lovin-southern-accent girl, in hopes of escaping to Canada when they head out on their motorcycle roadtrip to Niagra Falls for their honeymoon. He seems to despise her and find her giggles extremely annoying but love unravels as a series of unexpected events unfold with state police hunting them down. These characters really compliment each other in an opposite-attraction-love-type way. It's so cute, I love it. It's weird, random, symbolic, and pretty awesome. Overall, this film deserves a &lt;b&gt;7.4&lt;/b&gt;/10.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S3ObM2GZURI/AAAAAAAAAKg/LVFkN59awas/s320/camille.bmp" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-4085773528430306387?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/4085773528430306387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=4085773528430306387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4085773528430306387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4085773528430306387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/02/popcorn-time.html' title='popcorn time!'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S3ObmvzTWFI/AAAAAAAAAKo/klhrtVz-hCc/s72-c/BoondockSaints-smoking.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-889012204605576030</id><published>2010-02-10T08:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T15:26:35.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Colonel Williams - Macho Man Murderer?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S3NAmbuS2lI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/QZAGw9jA4gM/s1600-h/picblog.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 237px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S3NAmbuS2lI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/QZAGw9jA4gM/s320/picblog.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436760204187458130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:arial;"&gt;Following up on the case of Trenton's Commander, Colonel Russel Williams, who is the alleged murderer of two women and two assaults (and quite possibly the deaths of five other young women who didn't even reach my age), I read an interesting article from a forensic psychologist's view.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S3NAW-xnBFI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Kqm7q5g2aaE/s1600-h/picblog.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;According to TheStar, Williams might classify as the rarest type of serial offender - a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Macho Man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;. They tend to be intelligible men with '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;significant others who “do well in the workplace,” “are drawn to law enforcement or military,” display an obsessive-compulsive need for things to be “done a very specific way,” “prefer to dress in uniform,” and “stand up very straight, even in personal life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;.”'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;But really, how does that come close to explaining how a high-ranking military officer, respected and looked highly upon with a wife who is associate exec to Heart&amp;amp;Stroke, can commit such hideous crimes? The answer is a whirlwind of ideas but there is one that the forensic pointed out - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;compartmentalizing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;. The dictionary definition states that compartmentalization is a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"divide and conquer" process for separating thoughts that will conflict with one another&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;. In Williams' case, he was able to separate his secret malicious behavior from his respectable daily life, and thus, kill without guilt. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Like a hitman for the mob, he kills for a living yet otherwise leads an ordinary family life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Compartmentalizing is closely associated with dehumanization in serial killers, whereby the offender believes their victims are subhuman and expendable and that maybe they are doing society good for killing them off. So much for extreme altruism. Col. Williams has 23 years of experience in law enforcement and civil protection and he goes on a killing spree targeting  young females. Quite evidently, he took his power and control way too far.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 21px; font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Anyway, this case brings up worried intuitions inside me thinking.. don't we all experience compartmentalization in some way or another? Maybe we're not experts like Williams and all the other offenders in this world, but it does come to show that we do have &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;divided hearts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;. But that's the Christian life isn't it? At least until we really figure out how to blend the two together.. or let one take over the other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 21px; font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  line-height: 21px; font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Oh and just another quick thought... how about the soldiers fighting in the war? I mean, it's almost runs parallel. They're killing people (for a "cause") while they've got their girlfriends, wifes, children back at home... again, altruism in its extreme. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-889012204605576030?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/889012204605576030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=889012204605576030' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/889012204605576030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/889012204605576030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/02/colonel-williams-macho-man-murderer.html' title='Colonel Williams - Macho Man Murderer?'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/S3NAmbuS2lI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/QZAGw9jA4gM/s72-c/picblog.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-4610945437166601202</id><published>2010-02-09T15:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T18:24:38.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreamcatcher</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Everyone writes about fashion, celebrities, and cupcakes. I clearly don't know fashion since I wear the same sweater almost everyday.. nor do I find much interest in celebrity gossip.. and lastly, I barely have time to bake. So in light of this and because I feel the need to release my thoughts in some way or another (without making another sad and lonely post)... I am going to blog about my &lt;b&gt;dreams!&lt;/b&gt; .. AND since I watch tons of movies that I think many people miss out on, I'll write about that too.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Exactly a week ago I had this crazy dream. I'm not psycho..FYI, this was &lt;i&gt;after&lt;/i&gt; I watched the movie Boondock Saints, lol. Anyway, &lt;b&gt;my dream begins like so&lt;/b&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was with my dear friend and there seemed to be something bothering him. I asked him what it was but he couldn't seem to tell me.. until after constantly probing him and asking,  he told me. He said, "Three weeks ago I was surrounded by a gang, they wanted to kill me, but they beat me to the ground instead." He explained why he didn't want to tell me right away about it and for some odd reason I got mad at him for lying to me. I was torn over the fact that he wouldn't come to me first for help. I hated how he kept that a secret from me even if he was trying to "not get me worried/in danger". So in my frustration, I beat my friend up for not being able to trust me (how ironic). I actually beat him until his face was bleeding and he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. When I realized that he was losing consciousness, I held him and said I was sorry and called the ambulance. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Later, while he was recovering in the hospital... I was determined to find this gang that attacked him. I had a friend to accompany me. We found out these guys operated an underground brothel in a run-down area of a city. In order to get to them we decided to pose as workers there and waited for the boss to make his nightly visit.  Finally, he entered one of the rooms and we quickly made our move to replace the girls that would go inside. We shut the door and my friend held him down while I beat the crap out of him. I broke his arms and stabbed him with a knife. I noticed he had a hand-gun, so I took it for my next mission.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There were 3 other guys I was determined to get revenge on. In the hallway we found them and shot them down, but one got away. At this point in my dream I was just running and running, chasing after this guy. He was skinny, looked young, and extremely terrified, but I didn't care. Finally, I see him run into a convenience store and I slow down my pace.. getting ready to kill him. I walk in and there's no sight of this last dude. The store clerks were frightened and hiding behind the counter. I start walking up and down the aisles, this was a big convenience store, until I spot him and corner him. His hands go up and he pleads for mercy or anything. I just start yelling at him and saying he was stupid to beat up my friend. My friend whips the knife at him like she's throwing darts and his left arm gets pinned to the wall.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I just walk up to him slowly and aim my gun on his right chest. "I don't want to shoot your heart, you don't deserve to die, but you deserve to suffer the same pain as my friend did". He was crying at this point and asking me to not shoot, but I did anyway. My goal was complete and we ran out of there.. back to the hospital to tell my friend everything was taken care of. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-4610945437166601202?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/4610945437166601202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=4610945437166601202' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4610945437166601202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4610945437166601202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/02/dreamcatcher.html' title='Dreamcatcher'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-81703820706494929</id><published>2010-02-07T08:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T08:23:11.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>One week until Punta Cana :) &lt;div&gt;Oh mister Sun, Sun.. mister golden Sun.. please shine down on me! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-81703820706494929?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/81703820706494929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=81703820706494929' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/81703820706494929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/81703820706494929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/02/one-week-until-punta-cana-oh-mister-sun.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-895714149112034397</id><published>2010-02-03T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T21:55:14.033-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What a ride into the new year it's been.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deliver me out of my sadness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deliver me from all of the madness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deliver me courage to guide me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fhJJ6j2TpBA&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fhJJ6j2TpBA&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-895714149112034397?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/895714149112034397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=895714149112034397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/895714149112034397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/895714149112034397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-ride-into-new-year-its-been.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-3581331317945570161</id><published>2010-01-25T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T20:12:34.898-08:00</updated><title type='text'>quick laugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SWZ59qIwXGY&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SWZ59qIwXGY&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/3968198617615434082-3581331317945570161?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/3581331317945570161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=3581331317945570161' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3581331317945570161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3581331317945570161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/01/quick-laugh.html' title='quick laugh'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-847591321298265271</id><published>2010-01-13T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T19:11:45.721-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When silence falls..</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:12px;"&gt;This post is dedicated to a close friend of mine who recently lost someone very dear to them. I don't think there's really much to say but a thought did come to mind while I was driving to school today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:12px;"&gt;There will always be a time for everything. Different emotions, different circumstances will cycle throughout our lives bringing us as high up and deep below as possible. But one thing that will always remain constant and in humility is God's love for us. And I think we often forget the power of this truth and the amazement it offers us... that there really exists a love that is unchanging under circumstances, a love that perpetuates without the need to be deserving of it, a love that is patient in a world so quick-tempered, and finally a love that never fails to be our solid rock. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:12px;"&gt;God chooses us to be His sheep and we choose Him because we will never find a love like His, ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/64uVGQ7EcjI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/64uVGQ7EcjI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;I've had questions, without answers&lt;br /&gt;I've known sorrow, i have known pain&lt;br /&gt;but theres one thing, that i'll cling to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;you are faithful, Jesus your true&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when hope is lost, i'll call you saviour&lt;br /&gt;when pain surrounds, i'll call you healer&lt;br /&gt;when silence falls, you'll be the song within my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the lone hour, of my sorrow&lt;br /&gt;through the darkest night of my soul&lt;br /&gt;you surround me, and sustain me&lt;br /&gt;my defender, forever more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I will praise you, i will praise you&lt;br /&gt;when the tears fall, still i will sing to you&lt;br /&gt;Through the suffering still i will sing..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-847591321298265271?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/847591321298265271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=847591321298265271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/847591321298265271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/847591321298265271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2010/01/this-post-is-dedicated-to-close-friend.html' title='When silence falls..'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-3076995255972384770</id><published>2009-12-05T07:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T10:34:38.492-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gift of a New Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; font-family:verdana, helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;Switchfoot's lead singer wrote this song on on the eve of his 25th birthday with his explanation:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"I wrote this song near the end of my 24th year on this planet. Wherever we run, wherever the sun finds us when he rises, we remain stuck with ourselves. That can be overwhelming. Sometimes I feel like my soul is polluted with politicians, each with a different point of view. With all 24 of them in disagreement, each voice is yelling to be heard. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;And so I am divided against myself.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt; I feel that I am a hypocrite until I am 'one' - when all of the yelling inside of me dies down. I've heard that the truth will set you free. That's what I'm living for: freedom of spirit. I find unity and peace in none of the diversions that this world offers. But I've seen glimpses of truth &lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;and that's where I want to run.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;" &lt;/i&gt;(Jon Foreman)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Even after 24 tries, 24 failures, 24 years of being here, Jon still moves forward to a new life with Christ each new day. For those of us reaching our mid-twenties, can we look back to our past and say that none of it mattered relative to what we do today? Can we begin a new morning with a new attitude?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;What influenced this post was when my non-Christian friend posted this song on his Facebook wall and commented: "&lt;i&gt;This is probably the best post-ball cool down song, although to this day I still don't understand it&lt;/i&gt;." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It made me genuinely sad to realize that, wow, he's missing out. There is so much depth to what Jon is trying to convey in this song, yet millions of people out there just think it's 'relaxing'. It's relaxing because God's love is peace. But what's even more shameful is... I couldn't explain the meaning of this song even after hearing it for the past 6 years.. until now that is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Jon was 25 and absolutely knew there was truth out there to be sought after. I am 21 and... absolutely needs to change my attitude. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;24 - Switchfoot, Beauitful Letdown&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 20px; "&gt;Twenty four oceans&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 20px; "&gt;Twenty four skies&lt;br /&gt;Twenty four failures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 20px; "&gt;Twenty four tries&lt;br /&gt;Twenty four finds me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 20px; "&gt;In twenty-fourth place&lt;br /&gt;Twenty four drop outs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 20px; "&gt;At the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;Life is not what I thought it was&lt;br /&gt;Twenty four hours ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 20px; "&gt;Still I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"&gt;I want to see miracles, see the world change&lt;br /&gt;Wrestled the angel, for more than a name&lt;br /&gt;For more than a feeling&lt;br /&gt;For more than a cause&lt;br /&gt;I'm singing Spirit take me up in arms with You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-3076995255972384770?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/3076995255972384770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=3076995255972384770' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3076995255972384770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3076995255972384770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/12/gift-of-new-day.html' title='The Gift of a New Day'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1773589406227427318</id><published>2009-12-01T19:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T20:09:52.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Make Me Over - Lifehouse</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Wrap my arms around your name&lt;br /&gt;Feel your breath against my pain&lt;br /&gt;As I breathe out&lt;br /&gt;The past is gone&lt;br /&gt;Empty smile&lt;br /&gt;Naked heart&lt;br /&gt;Who I was, falls apart&lt;br /&gt;When You're here &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;font-size:130%;color:#656565;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 20px;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;font-size:130%;color:#656565;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 20px;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;font-size:130%;color:#656565;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 20px;font-size:14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1773589406227427318?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1773589406227427318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1773589406227427318' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1773589406227427318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1773589406227427318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/12/make-me-over-lifehouse.html' title='Make Me Over - Lifehouse'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-6769733372568908838</id><published>2009-11-25T07:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T08:02:11.262-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Only You</title><content type='html'>Sunday worship at The Bridge, amazing yet again. &lt;div&gt;God continues to inspire me with simple surprises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sPs-2hn5ZOg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sPs-2hn5ZOg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Just a few weeks ago, a colleague approached me after class and said that he had noticed I was a Christian and told me that he was too. He began to tell me about this idea of forming a bible study group specifically for Schulich students. He said "for the past 3 years at Schulich, all I've seen are people walking aimlessly in and out of this building, so tied up in their affairs and worries about school, jobs and reputation, without even knowing the possibility that there is something greater to this life than that".  I completely agreed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We talked about how the Christians at Schulich are in hiding and I felt like one of them. Doesn't that just sound... &lt;b&gt;typical&lt;/b&gt;? We're suppose to be the salt and light of this world, aren't we? We have a mighty God on our side with all the impossibilities now possible through Him, yet we continue to strive for the very least.. or we strive for the very best and give up once it gets too tough. There is a promise that God made to us that He would never put us through something we could not handle.. but when things do really get difficult and unbearable, we complain and blame God, we start believing that God has abandoned our side, and then some believe that God must not be real because of their excruciating circumstances. But all of that is complete ignorance, right? Because when we declare ourselves Christian, as children of God, a friend of Jesus Christ.. the power of God resides within us. And the power of God is far greater than the strength of our own efforts. Hence, when we come to face these mountains, we can move them because of His promise. Never think small, never think that you can't handle it, because God has given you the power to overcome the impossible. Call me opportunistic or overly optimistic, but I am extremely realistic and rational. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I think my point being is exactly Pastor Child's point: We set our boundaries too close and we should realize that God will exceed our limits to something unimaginable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why do we think and act so small? Why can't we think big like God?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here God is, trying to speak to me through this guy who I've never had any previous conversation with before, telling me that it's time to stand firm to my faith and &lt;i&gt;do&lt;/i&gt; something beyond my everyday habits. The Lord has told me over and over again that by God's great power and for His glory, I should be courageous and bold. And by taking one leap at a time, me and my new friend continue to meet weekly to talk about ideas and ways to serve our community better. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After 3 years at Schulich.. I'd say it's finally about time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-6769733372568908838?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/6769733372568908838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=6769733372568908838' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6769733372568908838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6769733372568908838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/11/only-you.html' title='Only You'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-8229886640033087266</id><published>2009-11-18T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T06:13:16.048-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life's brighter under the sun.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;"Do not let it be said of you that you did not trust God in this."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;Searching for a career job, applying to hundreds of places, waiting on callbacks, getting rejected from 95% of them, waiting and waiting, anxiety and fear...finally.. a process I thought would never end, did today when I got offered full-time. Really, all I can say is that God is truly faithful. Even when I was getting rejection letters from companies and not even hearing from any for a while, I knew that I had to stay courageous. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;God will not let me down, and so I could not let Him down either. I knew I had to stay faithful and trusting. The process was not at all easy but I firmly believed. I believed truly in my heart that at the end of the day God would provide for my every need.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;He reassured me through many different signs and I needed to be patient and accept the fact that it would be all in his perfect timing. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;Something that I have taken away from this job process is that I have been made for God and it is my journey to follow His purpose. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;I cannot forget that. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;Nothing can separate, even if I ran away... Your love never fails.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-family:&amp;quot;;color:black;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-8229886640033087266?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/8229886640033087266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=8229886640033087266' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8229886640033087266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8229886640033087266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/11/do-not-let-it-be-said-of-you-that-you.html' title='Life&apos;s brighter under the sun.'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-3626358615101411439</id><published>2009-11-12T19:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T20:02:57.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Need for good relationships in your life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Every now and then, a relationship goes beyond solid to become significant, a relationship that is pivotal to your life. I don't think anyone can try to create one of these relationships. I call them simply God's gift to me. I don't deserve them-but I do need them. People with whom I have enjoyed this kind of relationship give beyond reason and lift me up to a level I could not achieve without them." - J.C.Maxwell&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-3626358615101411439?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/3626358615101411439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=3626358615101411439' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3626358615101411439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3626358615101411439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/11/every-now-and-then-relationship-goes.html' title='The Need for good relationships in your life'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-423857402592429180</id><published>2009-11-04T09:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T09:25:10.591-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;"From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;(Luke 12:48) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Do not let it be said of you that you didn't trust God in this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-423857402592429180?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/423857402592429180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=423857402592429180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/423857402592429180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/423857402592429180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/11/from-everyone-who-has-been-given-much.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-694281750053495782</id><published>2009-11-01T15:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T17:48:06.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life of Simplicity</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today was a good day at The Bridge. Pastor Trevor Moss spoke about living a life of simplicity and how we seem to bump into so many roadblocks along the way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A man gave a short testimony about his near-death experience from a surgery he underwent a year ago. It was two weeks of desperately trying to save his life and afterwards he endured another 7 weeks of recovery. He said that during this time he realized that he had forgotten about the simple things in life. He was just running on adrenaline and eventually lost sight of what the most important things meant to him, like having a family. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was no surprise to me that this man needed a near-death experience to make him start enjoying the blessings of his life, because I know I'm the same. I'm afraid that I'm quickly forgetting about what matters most to me. As I continue to steep into my daily routine, I know I'm losing sight of roadblocks... and that means I'm becoming vulnerable to that saying "You just don't know what hit you until it hits you". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;God made man simple; man's complex problems are of his own devising&lt;/i&gt;. (Ecclesiastes 7:29)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Also, sometimes I wonder what is it that I really,&lt;i&gt; truly&lt;/i&gt; want in life? This morning I actually felt something tug at my heart and tell me that having everything will never compensate for missing that one thing called 'freedom' in the Lord. Have I become the victim of my own selfishness and pride? Am I deceiving myself into thinking that I am free to do whatever I want, to have whatever I want, when and wherever I want? At the end of the day, does having and doing these things truly make my heart feel at peace? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The bible tells us that the place where our treasure is, is where you should want to be, and where you will end up being. Do I store up treasures here on a decaying earth or do I place my treasures in God's kingdom?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lastly, living a life of simplicity challenges us by asking "&lt;b&gt;what matters most&lt;/b&gt;?". Even if I can become the most affluent and influential woman in this world and a mother of a perfect family, all of it will be worth nothing if I do not know or have the love of God. Therefore, at the end of the day, I yearn for the love of God who provides for my needs and wants, who heals me from pain, and who encourages me to be stronger than mountains. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6:33-34&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-694281750053495782?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/694281750053495782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=694281750053495782' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/694281750053495782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/694281750053495782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/11/life-of-simplicity.html' title='Life of Simplicity'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-5368791786043290928</id><published>2009-10-26T05:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T19:25:55.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Worry Wort</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yesterday I attended The Bridge Markham Pentecostal Church and heard Pastor Brian Childs speak on Worry- part one of the "Stepping Up" series. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Definitions of "worry"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- To choke or strangle (Old English)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- A divided mind (Greek)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Myth:&lt;/b&gt; I can control my life by worrying about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Truth:&lt;/b&gt; Worrying makes us miserable in the moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The words he spoke hit home for me. These past two months has &lt;i&gt;only&lt;/i&gt; been about worry. I question as to how I've been moving through the days. I look back and see that although my worries may have driven me here to this day, it comes with consequences. I cannot trust the things that are so easy to trust and he explained it perfectly saying that "worry and trust cannot coexist in the mind". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I know God has been telling me lately that I need to enjoy each moment and that worrying about yesterday or tomorrow forces you to forget about the blessings of today. I owe unending thanks to my Lord but at most times I cannot help but fret and be a worry wort. I do not know how to feel thankful because I have not been able to trust in God. Pastor Childs also mentioned that "worry is unchristian in a sense that although we are God's children, we act like orphans!". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Have we been acting like completely lost and foolish sheep? Have we forgotten the implications of our salvation? For Christians, our roots lay as children of God and it is inherent that we become stewards of love, joy, peace... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Painting Competition: My adaptation&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There once was a king who commissioned a painting competition among his people. The chosen winner would be the one who accurately depicted the image of peace. After thousands of rejections, it came down to two very different paintings. The first painting was of a serene river leading to a soft mountain, with clear blue skies, angelic white clouds, and animals resting. All the people praised this image and said it perfectly depicts peace and should win first prize. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The second painting, on the other hand, showed violent raging waters leading to a dark and ridged mountain, with stormy skies and lightning in the clouds. Off in the corner of the painting was a wind-struck tree and among the branches was a mother bird caring for her babies, feeding them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The king decided that the second painting was the best depiction of peace and the confused people asked for his reasoning. He responded, "&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Peace is not the absence of conflict, rather peace is a state of mind amidst chaos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;.&lt;/b&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:'Charis SIL', charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt; --&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Matthew 6:25&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-5368791786043290928?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/5368791786043290928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=5368791786043290928' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5368791786043290928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5368791786043290928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/10/worry-wort.html' title='Worry Wort'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-7417219345240585070</id><published>2009-09-11T23:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T23:53:06.901-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Stand</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HkGLbKV26zo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HkGLbKV26zo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" color: rgb(64, 34, 151);  -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-family:arial;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;pre style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(160, 82, 45);  white-space: normal; font-family:verdana;"&gt;You stood before my failure&lt;br /&gt;And carried the cross for my shame&lt;br /&gt;My sin weighed upon your shoulders&lt;br /&gt;My soul now to stand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#A0522D;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"&gt;So what could I say?&lt;br /&gt;And what could I do?&lt;br /&gt;But offer this heart, Oh God&lt;br /&gt;Completely to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll stand&lt;br /&gt;With arms high and heart abandoned&lt;br /&gt;In awe of the one who gave it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:verdana;color:#A0522D;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;pre style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal arial; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal; "&gt;&lt;pre style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal arial; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-7417219345240585070?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/7417219345240585070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=7417219345240585070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7417219345240585070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7417219345240585070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/09/stand.html' title='The Stand'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1942950246214299649</id><published>2009-09-08T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T18:23:19.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Final Year Begins</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I only have one more year left of undergrad and then I'm done. I still feel incredibly young to be graduating, to be working full-time career mode. Feels like life is moving very fast. When do I ever get to just soak in the moment?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1942950246214299649?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1942950246214299649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1942950246214299649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1942950246214299649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1942950246214299649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/09/final-year-begins.html' title='Final Year Begins'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-3931387422200873444</id><published>2009-08-28T06:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T08:24:21.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/SpfrIbHU6MI/AAAAAAAAAE4/aZQfWvr1VVs/s1600-h/Vegas+223.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/SpfrIbHU6MI/AAAAAAAAAE4/aZQfWvr1VVs/s320/Vegas+223.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375023210239944898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;This is a picture I took early morning trying to catch the sunrise at the Grand Canyon. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;God is beautiful and He makes beautiful things. How can I not marvel at this phenomenon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Here's a song I've been emotionally attached to for the past while. Haha, when I find a song I feel I can connect to, I obsess over it and have it on repeat for days and even weeks at a time. Below are the lyrics.. hehe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Above the Golden State - The Sound of Your Name&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;I tried and tried&lt;br /&gt;A thousand times I tried to get to You&lt;br /&gt;But I could never move&lt;br /&gt;I had to lie&lt;br /&gt;I’d fall behind and blame it all on You&lt;br /&gt;‘Cause I still hate to lose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Towers fall and kingdoms crumble&lt;br /&gt;Mountains bow and the earth will tremble&lt;br /&gt;At the sound of Your name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The strong man falls to Him who humbles&lt;br /&gt;The plans he made were bound to stumble&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And only You remain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried and cried&lt;br /&gt;A thousands tears I cried because of You&lt;br /&gt;I lost my one excuse&lt;br /&gt;I had to die along with everything inside of me removed&lt;br /&gt;But now I live with You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-3931387422200873444?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/3931387422200873444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=3931387422200873444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3931387422200873444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3931387422200873444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/08/this-is-picture-i-took-early-morning.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/SpfrIbHU6MI/AAAAAAAAAE4/aZQfWvr1VVs/s72-c/Vegas+223.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-4813975155404081584</id><published>2009-08-08T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T10:24:58.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What does he/she bring out of me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;"A true friend knows your weaknesses but shows you your strengths; feels your fears but fortifies your faith; sees your anxieties but frees your spirit; recognizes your disabilities but emphasizes your posibilities." - Allen Ward&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-4813975155404081584?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/4813975155404081584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=4813975155404081584' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4813975155404081584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4813975155404081584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-does-heshe-bring-out-of-me.html' title='What does he/she bring out of me?'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-8583105394461216053</id><published>2009-08-04T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T19:24:26.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Booster Juice</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Lately I've been dreading at the fact that I will be entering my 4th year university.. I do not feel prepared for what is to come.. the end of the tunnel is far but near and there's no more shying away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So I met an old acquaintance the other day and was introduced to an interesting spiritual gift- soul peering, reading, or however you call it. You know how they say you can see a person's soul their through eyes? She could do that! &lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Over dessert at my friend's birthday party, we were off to the side in our own deep conversation about life. I was telling her that I wanted to exercise my efforts on a path that will better lead me to my potential. I expressed to her my crave to help people, to write novels, and for being a deep-thinker and an abstract. I'm taking this summer school course on Psychology of Women and I shamelessly love it. There is something I love about understanding how our cognitive ability works and why certain emotions come in play. There is something about the way society behaves and influences us and how, as Christians, we are dragged into a tug-of-war. I know I can never grasp this all fully but I want to learn. She concluded that I possess the quality of teachability, which is crucial because Stubbornness never finds its way- it's always chasing its tail.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At one point, she asked me a very frank question: "&lt;b&gt;Do you know who you are?&lt;/b&gt;"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I couldn't give her a definite answer and it wasn't because I don't have a grasp of my identity. I am still trying to figure out in the best words what I feel in my heart. So naturally I told her about my experience in the Grand Canyon and that I, without a doubt, felt the sovereignty of the Lord. I described it as a very emotional feeling.. but she insisted it was rather &lt;i&gt;spiritual&lt;/i&gt;. That had been the Holy Spirit in me. &lt;i&gt;I didn't really realize until I felt it that I missed it&lt;/i&gt;. It scared me that I could actually forget this feeling, what it is and where it comes from.. you know, that incredibly humbling and empowering sense when God is giving you a "moment"?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Finally she told me, "I am not worried for you one bit."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This was the first conversation we had other than a "Hi, hello, how are you." It was really great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I suppose my confidence for 4th year has renewed..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I just need to remind myself that if I meet God there, He will meet me with armour. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-8583105394461216053?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/8583105394461216053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=8583105394461216053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8583105394461216053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8583105394461216053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/08/lately-ive-been-dreading-at-fact-that-i.html' title='Booster Juice'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-3081902824206309082</id><published>2009-07-20T22:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T21:20:01.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Soul searching in the desert</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I just got back from my 5 day trip to Las Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I know it doesn't sound much like a place to "find your soul" but I guess you can never underestimate the Lord's will to speak to you whereever you go. Maybe it was the vastness of the Grand Canyons, the time spent away from home, or contrarily the sin-city that got me believing &lt;strong&gt;more&lt;/strong&gt; in my faith in God. For the past few months I've been failing at upholding my beliefs and values. That blurry line between faith and doubt has set me up for a viscious cycle that I could not physically, emotionally, or spiritually get out of. This is why I chose to go on this trip, thinking it would be a short 'getaway' to 'get away' from chaos and drama. But of course, a person should never expect that running away from their problems means it's not there anymore- because if there's one thing that will continuously follow and taunt you, it's your emotional baggage. So really in reverse, instead of leaving it all behind, you kind of come to face it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When you're put into a different setting (I was in a desert), you're given this outside perspective and &lt;em&gt;time&lt;/em&gt;. With no agendas or deadlines, you have the ability to soak in everything around you and about you. It makes sense to me now why we're so ineffective when handling our problems.. because while everything piles up, the time is ticking and there are a hundred other things needed to be done. We feel like we are responsible for every action and essentially we want control over whatever we do. So when I left Toronto to come to Nevada, I felt like I just left that "responsibilty" to God... I still had my baggage to claim but still, I was free.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The roadtrip to the Grand Canyon was 4.5 hours. Bina and I upgraded to a convertible so we could live it up like in the typical movie scene- cruising through the desert on a winding dirt road with painted blue skies and endless valleys of rocks and trees. Pictures or words really won't do justice in expressing how beautiful and peaceful it was. For once in my life I felt like I was going with the wind without complaining and without looking back. I hardly knew what to expect of the place we were heading to... but two pitstops and 300 miles later, we arrived. Honestly, you really have to see nature at its best and most majestic to understand how sovereign our God is. I went on a morning hike to watch the sunrise at5 am and that alone took up a quarter of the photos I took this trip (400 total). The feeling that I got just walking the trail in the canyon.. I felt like in that moment, everything made sense. Really, I was in awe of everything surrounding me. The canyon has an incredible stretch and vastness to it. You just can't take it in all at once. I'm hardly emotional on the outside but this was completely overwhelming because I knew that my problems and insecurities were absolutely nothing compared to how big and great our God is. This may sound silly but I really believe that God did just take me thousands of miles across the country to stand in the Arizona desert not by random or without purpose but to kind of prove to me that He is all real. Lately, I've been too caught up in self-help books and mainstream Christian ideologies that it's been eating away at my faith. I've been trusting more in authors and generational trends than God himself. It's about time He made me realize that I've been putting too many eggs in the wrong basket.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I haven't felt the grace and love of God in months and months.. and I finally felt Him there in my heart during this trip. He really is there underneath the distractions, the joy, the sin, the shame.. He is underneath it all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Sometimes the Lord is just asking us to pick up and go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;"It is a wonder that those exposed to such beauty forfeit the great questions in the face of this miraculous evidence." - D. Miller&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/Sm_M_qI0MTI/AAAAAAAAADQ/c2QX0xXZ5Dg/s1600-h/11.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/Sm_M_qI0MTI/AAAAAAAAADQ/c2QX0xXZ5Dg/s320/11.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363731075236639026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="justify" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-3081902824206309082?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/3081902824206309082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=3081902824206309082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3081902824206309082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3081902824206309082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/07/soul-searching-in-desert.html' title='Soul searching in the desert'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/Sm_M_qI0MTI/AAAAAAAAADQ/c2QX0xXZ5Dg/s72-c/11.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-7433204832188367138</id><published>2009-07-13T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T20:27:30.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh can I sing this with confidence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Your Love Never Fails - Jesus Culture&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing can separate&lt;br /&gt;Even if I ran away&lt;br /&gt;Your love never fails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I still make mistakes, but&lt;br /&gt;You have new mercy for me everyday&lt;br /&gt;Your love never fails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You stay the same through the ages&lt;br /&gt;Your love never changes&lt;br /&gt;There may be pain in the night&lt;br /&gt;But joy comes in the morning&lt;br /&gt;And when the oceans rage&lt;br /&gt;I don’t have to be afraid&lt;br /&gt;Because I know that you love me&lt;br /&gt;And your love never fails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wind is strong and the water’s deep, but&lt;br /&gt;I’m not alone here in these open seas&lt;br /&gt;Cause your love never fails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chasm was far too wide&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I’d reach the other side&lt;br /&gt;But your love never fails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make all things, work together for my good&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-7433204832188367138?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/7433204832188367138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=7433204832188367138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7433204832188367138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7433204832188367138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/07/oh-can-i-sing-this-with-confidence-your.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-7830167128706210817</id><published>2009-07-13T19:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T20:07:47.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"I feel like I have two worlds in my life. There's the Christian world and then there's the world that I try to keep from God. And right now they're both colliding."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zJvqQjaz87I&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zJvqQjaz87I&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&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/3968198617615434082-7830167128706210817?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/7830167128706210817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=7830167128706210817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7830167128706210817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7830167128706210817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-feel-like-i-have-two-worlds-in-my.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-6632768333867318222</id><published>2009-07-08T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T18:24:20.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I want to go to all the places I don't know about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-6632768333867318222?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/6632768333867318222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=6632768333867318222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6632768333867318222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6632768333867318222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-want-to-go-to-all-places-i-dont-know.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-5926435293370470961</id><published>2009-06-29T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T08:21:29.465-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;The strong man falls to Him who humbles.&lt;br /&gt;- above the golden state&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Grand Canyon, Las Vegas in t-minus 10 days!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-5926435293370470961?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/5926435293370470961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=5926435293370470961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5926435293370470961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5926435293370470961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/06/strong-man-falls-to-him-who-humbles.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-2946326966286717817</id><published>2009-06-25T21:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T19:13:14.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Time to explore. Be a little more daring. Conquer old fears and love new things.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;:)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-2946326966286717817?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/2946326966286717817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=2946326966286717817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2946326966286717817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2946326966286717817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/06/time-to-explore.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-3293140431205667688</id><published>2009-06-24T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T21:24:53.004-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Some say the past is important because of how it has shaped you for today. Others say it is completely irrelevant. &lt;br /&gt;I like to believe the latter, but my subconscious tells me that I'm only being naive. It can help to move forward when you take a few steps back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I've consistently realized is that whenever I'm facing stresses or worries, my "past" comes back to taunt me in my dreams. Why is that? Could it be that I haven't properly dealt with those issues in the past? Maybe it's a lighthouse warning to guard or prepare myself for things to come...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-3293140431205667688?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/3293140431205667688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=3293140431205667688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3293140431205667688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3293140431205667688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/06/some-say-past-is-important-because-of.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-4479213992602491360</id><published>2009-06-22T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T20:28:15.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>What would you want in a woman?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A friend. A true friend, someone who knows me and loves me anyway. You know, like when I'm through putting my best foot forward, she's still there, still the same. I meet these people and it's all conditional- they are all in it for themselves. They are friends with you because you fit the image they want to portray. It's a selfish thing. I'd like to get a girl who doesn't think like that. Don't get me wrong. She's got to be proud of her husband, I know that... but all in all, there's got to be some sort of soul mate thing going on. There are some people in this world who love their spouse because they provide them with the life they want, and there are others who love their spouse just because they've chosen to, or because love has chosen them, or whatever. Something way back endeared one to the other and they made a decision to lock into it."&lt;br /&gt;- don miller&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-4479213992602491360?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/4479213992602491360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=4479213992602491360' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4479213992602491360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4479213992602491360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/06/ive-heard-it-said-there-are-two-types.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-4256531249176011653</id><published>2009-06-01T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T12:26:21.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving Forward</title><content type='html'>'The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.'&lt;br /&gt;Deuteronomy 31:8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.'&lt;br /&gt;Jeremiah 33:3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UCioxKqEZdQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UCioxKqEZdQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-4256531249176011653?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/4256531249176011653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=4256531249176011653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4256531249176011653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4256531249176011653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/06/moving-forward.html' title='Moving Forward'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-8758641414256854959</id><published>2009-05-29T21:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T10:51:58.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cornerstone Sermon on Sin</title><content type='html'>Proverbs 5&lt;br /&gt;- the most pervasive sin - GREED&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pregnant with sin&lt;br /&gt;- conceived the desire&lt;br /&gt;- don't be deceived that just because you haven't birthed that sin, that it isn't in you&lt;br /&gt;- don't mistake God's grace and mercy for thinking it's okay for you to sin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lure is incredibly deceptive.&lt;br /&gt;- If you're looking at that bait, you need to recognize that there's a hook under that. Do you want to get hooked? That deadly trap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet beginnings but bitter endings.&lt;br /&gt;- always offers itself in an incredibly sweet package but ALWAYS leads you to death&lt;br /&gt;- don't be deceived that you can open the package a little bit and then close it back up&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-8758641414256854959?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/8758641414256854959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=8758641414256854959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8758641414256854959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8758641414256854959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/05/sermon-on-sin.html' title='Cornerstone Sermon on Sin'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-2597751230282009120</id><published>2009-05-23T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T15:34:50.254-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dream entry</title><content type='html'>I was jogging outside with a group of people and the sky was quickly becoming dark with heavy clouds. It then started to pour so I ran faster and suddenly I was just around the corner of my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was driving my car, lost on the highway very late in the evening. I could barely see anything because it was pitch black out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;---&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A past came back in my dream last night... very unexpected. I guess you can almost expect that from deeply stored away memories. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I was at this church function, commemorating the death of my friend's mother. I was playing the piano on the stage, stumbling on which keys to press and pouring down tears. He was there too. Incredibly awkward it was.. but we faced it, pushing aside all our past emotions and tension that once seemed so endless in drama. Although the years have changed our states, you could still feel the same senses lingering there. We said a few words and that was all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-2597751230282009120?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/2597751230282009120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=2597751230282009120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2597751230282009120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2597751230282009120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/05/dream-entry.html' title='dream entry'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1529567073039279750</id><published>2009-05-11T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T22:54:08.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tdTT6rmkk9M&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tdTT6rmkk9M&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;Thank You, Jesus&lt;br /&gt;Lord, You're worthy&lt;br /&gt;Of all the glory,&lt;br /&gt;And all the honor&lt;br /&gt;And all the praise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Although I am not in the least bit feeling &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;joyful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; right now, I have been reminded once again that God is bigger than whatever I'm facing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1529567073039279750?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1529567073039279750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1529567073039279750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1529567073039279750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1529567073039279750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/05/hallelujah-thank-you-jesus-lord-youre.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-9194080334804664746</id><published>2009-05-06T19:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T19:04:04.501-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A quote about Character</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(128, 0, 128); font-family: Calibri;"&gt;"People are like  icebergs. T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(128, 0, 128); font-family: Calibri;"&gt;here's much more  to them than meets the eye. When you look at an iceberg, only 15% is visible-  that's talent. The rest 85% - their character - is below the surface, hidden.  It's what they do when no one is watching. It's how they react to terrible  traffic and other everyday aggravations. It's how they handle failure and  success."&lt;br /&gt;- J.C.Maxwell&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-9194080334804664746?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/9194080334804664746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=9194080334804664746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/9194080334804664746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/9194080334804664746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/05/quote-about-character.html' title='A quote about Character'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1127660259670839245</id><published>2009-05-03T22:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T19:12:32.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>True Love</title><content type='html'>"True love brings with it the ability to give yourself away to that person, to allow your vulnerability to become their strength and their strength your reward."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1127660259670839245?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1127660259670839245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1127660259670839245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1127660259670839245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1127660259670839245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/05/true-love-brings-with-it-ability-to.html' title='True Love'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-4709925813606893640</id><published>2009-04-22T21:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T21:48:04.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The Problem of Pain - C.S. Lewis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God is not proud...He will have us even though we have shown that we prefer everything else to Him."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-4709925813606893640?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/4709925813606893640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=4709925813606893640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4709925813606893640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4709925813606893640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/04/problem-of-pain-c.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-7115376840377971266</id><published>2009-04-20T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T20:55:21.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Lately I've been feeling extremely conflicted.&lt;br /&gt;My heart can't stay put in one thought or emotion.&lt;br /&gt;But I've been told that the reason we feel like this is because our hearts haven't caught up with our heads.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-7115376840377971266?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/7115376840377971266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=7115376840377971266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7115376840377971266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7115376840377971266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/04/lately-ive-been-feeling-extremely.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-6258643851301971635</id><published>2009-04-15T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T08:00:50.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I must be</title><content type='html'>1) Follower of Christ - true repentance and regeneration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Be submissive to the authority God has placed in your life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(watch her with her father and mother and see her attitude of submission)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Be submissive to the biblical picture of marriage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Marriage by Design - Voddie Baucham&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-6258643851301971635?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/6258643851301971635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=6258643851301971635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6258643851301971635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6258643851301971635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-i-must-be.html' title='What I must be'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-591995571175909287</id><published>2009-04-13T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T10:42:53.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Martin Luther said he only had two days on his calendar:&lt;br /&gt;today and "that day."&lt;br /&gt;And that's what I want too.&lt;br /&gt;And I want to live&lt;br /&gt;today&lt;br /&gt;for&lt;br /&gt;that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Joseph Bayly)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-591995571175909287?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/591995571175909287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=591995571175909287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/591995571175909287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/591995571175909287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/04/martin-luther-said-he-only-had-two-days.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1701876640605943003</id><published>2009-04-09T10:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T11:00:06.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZW1GbdjAmPU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZW1GbdjAmPU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every sun and moon and star&lt;br /&gt;All declaring who You are&lt;br /&gt;We fall silent in amazement&lt;br /&gt;Every word and deed of man&lt;br /&gt;Every sea and grain of sand&lt;br /&gt;All creation speaks&lt;br /&gt;And now we sing to proclaim Your majesty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening to Christian music brings my head back down to my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1701876640605943003?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1701876640605943003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1701876640605943003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1701876640605943003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1701876640605943003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/04/every-sun-and-moon-and-star-all.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-2220376228786146934</id><published>2009-04-08T18:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T18:20:53.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A little too quiet?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-2220376228786146934?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/2220376228786146934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=2220376228786146934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2220376228786146934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2220376228786146934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/04/little-too-quiet.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-6192375111221769451</id><published>2009-04-06T13:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T20:52:30.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More from Dorian Gray</title><content type='html'>But I can't help detesting my relations. I suppose it comes from the fact that none of us can stand other people having the same faults as ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dream of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;form&lt;/span&gt; in days of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you are wrong, Basil, but I won't argue with you. It is only the intellectually lost who ever argue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The harmony of soul and body--  how much that is!  We in our madness have separated the two,  and have invented a realism that is vulgar, an ideality that  is void.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a sad thing to think of,  but there is no doubt that genius lasts longer than beauty.  That accounts  for the fact that we all take such pains to over-educate ourselves.  In the wild struggle for existence, we want to have something that endures,  and so we fill our minds with rubbish and facts, in the silly hope of keeping  our place.  The thoroughly well-informed man--that is the modern ideal.  And the mind of the thoroughly well-informed man is a dreadful thing.  It is like a bric-a-brac shop, all monsters and dust, with everything  priced above its proper value.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...The worst of having a romance of any kind is that it leaves one  so unromantic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The aim of life  is self-development. To realize one's nature perfectly--that is what  each of us is here for.  People are afraid of themselves, nowadays.  They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes  to one's self.  Of course, they are charitable.  They feed the hungry  and clothe the beggar.  But their own souls starve, and are naked.  Courage has gone out of our race.  Perhaps we never really had it.  The terror of society, which is the basis of morals, the terror of God,  which is the secret of religion--these are the two things that govern us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been said  that the great events of the world take place in the brain.  It is in the brain, and the brain only, that the great sins  of the world take place also.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-6192375111221769451?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/6192375111221769451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=6192375111221769451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6192375111221769451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6192375111221769451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/04/more-from-dorian-gray.html' title='More from Dorian Gray'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-3926402666112048234</id><published>2009-04-02T16:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T16:51:50.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All I Need is the Air I Breathe</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XVZiQ9AGAMo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XVZiQ9AGAMo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know where your heart is?&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you can find it?&lt;br /&gt;Or did you trade it for something&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere better just to have it?&lt;br /&gt;Do you know where your love is?&lt;br /&gt;Do you think that you lost it?&lt;br /&gt;You felt it so strong, but&lt;br /&gt;Nothing's turned out how you wanted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, bless my soul&lt;br /&gt;You're a lonely soul&lt;br /&gt;Cause you won't let go&lt;br /&gt;Of anything you hold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, all I need&lt;br /&gt;Is the air I breathe&lt;br /&gt;And a place to rest&lt;br /&gt;My head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever the end is&lt;br /&gt;Do you think you can see it?&lt;br /&gt;Well, until you get there&lt;br /&gt;Go on, go ahead and scream it&lt;br /&gt;Just say it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-3926402666112048234?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/3926402666112048234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=3926402666112048234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3926402666112048234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3926402666112048234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/04/all-i-need-is-air-i-breathe.html' title='All I Need is the Air I Breathe'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-3089339181401154339</id><published>2009-03-24T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T13:06:51.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love You, Man</title><content type='html'>I just saw the movie "I Love You, Man" with Paul Rudd on Saturday. It was about his search for a Best Man for his wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that night I had a dream and lo and behold it was my wedding!!&lt;br /&gt;I had this really extravagant dress ready to wear and the ceremony was going to take place at this big theatre that was very dimly lite with only the stage and the main aisle carpeted in bold red lite with piercing white lights. There was balcony seating as well where I was standing looking down to the stage. The whole set-up seemed very dramatic and romantic. &lt;br /&gt;However, it was raining and really gloomy out the day of my wedding so we decided to postpone it to another day. How sad... and I didn't even get to see the face of my husband. But I was really really happy in my dream and I woke up happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then in my dream the next night my friend proposed to me and we got engaged. We headed off to this vacation spot in Europe with a couple of our friends. It was beautiful! And what's a story without an antagonist? Of course, one of the friends that tagged along was a very pretty lady who was in love with my fiance and was scheming to steal him away from me. I tried to warn my fiance about her seductive ways and her ulterior motives but he kept brushing it off telling me to just be nice because she doesn't have many friends. I was so frustrated that he wouldn't listen to me so I let him go accompany her during a shopping tour and I went off on my own to the beach. Then as I was walking back to my car in the parking lot a man approached me and started to threaten my life. I ran quickly to my car to get in and lock him out but all he kept violently yelling at me was, "just try and run away! Just try!! you won't get away."  In panic, I locked my doors, turned on the engine, and drove off. But as soon as I started zooming off I realized my brakes didn't work. &lt;br /&gt;I saw a huge traffic jam right ahead of me and so I was repeatedly stomping on the brakes but nothing worked and I was locked in my car. The man just watched and laugh. I closed my eyes to embrace the impact and then I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-3089339181401154339?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/3089339181401154339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=3089339181401154339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3089339181401154339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/3089339181401154339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-love-you-man.html' title='I Love You, Man'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-7395735726580774382</id><published>2009-03-18T16:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T16:56:52.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Picture of Dorian Gray</title><content type='html'>The following are quotes from Oscar Wilde's only published novel. These were the ones that made me stop to think twice. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All art is at once surface and symbol. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Those that go beneath the surface do so at their peril&lt;/span&gt;. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art mirrors.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only difference between a caprice and a lifelong passion is that the caprice lasts a little longer.&lt;br /&gt;(caprice - an impulsive, often illogical turn of mind)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The advantage of the emotions is that they lead us astray…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Experience was of no ethical value. It was merely the name men gave to their mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Punctuality is the thief of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we are happy we are always good, but when we are good we are not always happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be popular one must be a mediocrity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;To define is to limit.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-7395735726580774382?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/7395735726580774382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=7395735726580774382' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7395735726580774382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7395735726580774382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/03/all-art-is-at-once-surface-and-symbol.html' title='The Picture of Dorian Gray'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-654387615318835867</id><published>2009-03-11T21:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T19:17:27.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sin- thinking that there's something better behind the door only to open it and walk away with nothing.&lt;br /&gt;- Francis Chan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- C.S. Lewis&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-654387615318835867?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/654387615318835867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=654387615318835867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/654387615318835867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/654387615318835867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/03/when-sin-looks-more-enjoyable-than-god.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-2457293813688834679</id><published>2009-03-09T20:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T21:16:09.422-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Therefore, go out.</title><content type='html'>Nickelback's new song: If today was your last day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend gave me the best advice&lt;br /&gt;He said each day's a gift and not a given right&lt;br /&gt;Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind&lt;br /&gt;And try to take the path less traveled by&lt;br /&gt;That first step you take is the longest stride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If today was your last day&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow was too late&lt;br /&gt;Could you say goodbye to yesterday?&lt;br /&gt;Would you live each moment like your last?&lt;br /&gt;Leave old pictures in the past&lt;br /&gt;Donate every dime you have?&lt;br /&gt;If today was your last day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Against the grain should be a way of life&lt;br /&gt;what´s worth the prize is always worth the fight&lt;br /&gt;Every second counts 'cause there´s no second try&lt;br /&gt;So live like you´ll never live it twice&lt;br /&gt;don´t take the free ride in your own life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-2457293813688834679?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/2457293813688834679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=2457293813688834679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2457293813688834679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2457293813688834679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/03/go.html' title='Therefore, go out.'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-2099226275236911681</id><published>2009-02-25T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T20:10:16.931-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Things Start Small</title><content type='html'>In the past couple of months, I've been deeply thinking about missions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've been cooped up in my own world for 20 years now and it's not going to change until I really start obeying the One above. I read this quote by Don Miller saying, "I am the problem... Nothing is going to change in the Congo until you and I figure out what's wrong with the person in the mirror."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;He couldn't have put it better. I've asked God many times to change my chaotic and selfish heart and looking back over the years, I don't think much has changed. In fact, it will never fully change because we've been born with it. So I went back to Miller's quote thinking how am I suppose to go out there if it's practically impossible to change myself? I'm still a painful sinner... I really am the problem! But behold a new answer has come: Jesus Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God's love is unconditional to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;His&lt;/span&gt; children. His love is pure, drives out fear, and covers a multitude of sins. So even though my heart is still selfishly chaotic and will most likely be until I die, I now have one thing that I haven't had before: the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;peace&lt;/span&gt; of knowing that God will still use me and wants to use me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that it's taken how many years to figure that out?.. I feel like I'm ready for my next step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My soul is craving and yearning. Lately, I've been immersing myself in the bible, novels, business leadership, Third World issues and the like. I feel like a huge "dry sponge" as my friend refers me to because I want to soak up as much as I can. It's odd though because I would have never been like this before. Sometimes I don't feel like myself, which is scary.. I mean, could it really be that I'm beginning to finally lose myself in Him? It's trippy art- the art of losing yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I constantly hunger, I realize that the instant stuff (and by 'instant' I mean 'temporal' and by 'temporal' I mean 'this world') just doesn't suffice. I need the better food.  This time I'm reaching out beyond my grasp for something heavenly and love-binding. Hence  now is the start of my calling for missionary support in my home, city, or far away country. Missions isn't only about serving others and the "lost-and-found", it is also needed to reinforce ourselves with God.&lt;br /&gt;It is quite evident that a reason why many of us fail to acknowledge missions is because we don't see the long-term inclination it has. We have let the world fool us into thinking that it has control over us when really we have complete control over it. We take in too many lies, which hinders our faith in God. Thus, missions is a banner that is to be noticed by the ones who  decidedly  look up, to declare that God is God, the controller and purpose to everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-2099226275236911681?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/2099226275236911681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=2099226275236911681' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2099226275236911681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2099226275236911681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/02/big-things-start-small.html' title='Big Things Start Small'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-2840695674514367359</id><published>2009-02-23T07:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T08:42:17.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a Decipher</title><content type='html'>You know when people say that the dream they just had felt &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so&lt;/span&gt; real?&lt;br /&gt;Here is Dream entry # 100928098147126197 ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on the phone with my mentor and she was trying to tell me that sometimes people come to a fork in the road in having to decide between two very different people. The choice is obvious but we tend to go for the ladder. The first person is the one we fall for hard without any explanation, red flags sailing high, and arrows trying to guide us back the other way. But we don't care because we've become blindly seduced by their presence and we just stand there with butterflies. The second figure is the one with everything to offer, you can list the reasons why you love them, they challenge you, and you have this odd envy or desire to be like them. One is mystery and the other is an open book. One is asking to jump off the bandwagon and the other is asking for marriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as she was explaining this to me, two of my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;friends&lt;/span&gt; popped up into my head that fit these two characters. It's a very hard and confusing decision- but only if you don't know what you want. My mentor continued to speak and say how that is a decision I must make.. and after our whole conversation (or rather me just listening to her speak), she concluded by saying, "Christine.. there &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; something else. I know we have been confiding in each other for the past while now, but we are going to have to stop now. We cannot talk or be friends anymore."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really shocked and at first I responded by saying, "Ok, I understand." But as I kept thinking about it, I didn't understand. We have been building up such a close friendship and I've been trusting her with so many of my secrets.. how? why? She explained very blunt in tone that it wasn't healthy for her. Really, it made no sense at all. So I said, holding back my tears, "Alright, I guess I'll catch you later then..." She hung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was a day before my exam and I was with my best friend. She wanted me to drop her off at this community centre because they had a free drop-in health and body class. It actually seemed a bit odd and off and I kept looking at the flyer she received and it made more sense to me as a rehab session. But my friend kept insisting that it wasn't and it would be a cool experience. So I dropped her off and of course she dragged me into it (even though at the back of my mind I was thinking about my next day's exam). We entered into a door that only opens from the inside to prevent unwanted outsiders from coming in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked down the winding stairs and I looked at all the people coming in and it just seemed so off. These were people with serious mental issues! What were we doing there? We didn't belong.. Anyway, we kept following and then I looked at another flyer and realized this wasn't what my friend thought it was. A person beside us, held down by people, was scrambling to get away and screaming out that she didn't want it again. The pictures on the flyer were actually really disturbing as I analyzed it closer. There was a 'ringleader' and we were all going to be brainwashed to be his slaves.. In this world, he was the only man we were suppose to and allowed to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wasn't some wellness class, it was a cult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I realized this, I grabbed my friend's arm and we started running back up all the flights of stairs. I looked down and realized one of the guys of the program saw us and he started running up, chasing us. So I quickly took us to a classroom and we tried hiding in the closet. But the man found us since the classroom door was still open and so I ran forward shutting the door on him and locking it. But of course, the lock didn't work and we were both forcing the door to go our way. I knew I was losing the fight so I somehow grabbed a wooden stick and as he came barging through the door I used as much force as I could and hit him 3 times- on the shoulders, head, and finally his neck. That put him out and he fell to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started running again to the top floor where the exit was and just before we jumped out the door I wrote on the wall "H E L P"..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-2840695674514367359?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/2840695674514367359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=2840695674514367359' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2840695674514367359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2840695674514367359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-know-when-people-say-that-dream.html' title='I need a Decipher'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1142642567418906446</id><published>2009-02-14T07:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T08:52:35.362-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A dream within a dream</title><content type='html'>Last night's sleep was pretty restless.&lt;br /&gt;Here goes my dream:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Young (my pastor) was driving me home, we started this great conversation on life and God and then decided to go grab a coffee to continue it. We took the first exit off the highway and pulled into a secluded restaurant area. But as we were driving into the parking lot we felt some eerie presence and noticed something terribly wrong. To my left there was a man laying across his right side on the ground with a rifle a few metres ahead. There were police men and a crowd of people. Then to my right, there was a woman and a man lying on the ground as well. The area was being taped off and there was broken glass from the convenient store all over the ground. By the looks of it, it was a robbery gone completely out of hand. So the store owner (the first man) was actually dead and I remember seeing a lot of blood and guts around him. Also the woman was dead but the other man beside her was going to survive. I was so freaked out. This was the first time I've ever seen a dead person before and it just seemed so surreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This next part is even more odd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Behind the taped off area was a group of onlookers and witnesses to the situation. However, they seemed to be either crying, praying, or worshipping. It didn't really make any sense at all what they were doing. First, it wasn't their business and second.. some of them were bowing down and raising their hands. It was like a worship session out of context and maybe not even for God. Were they mourning the two deaths? Were they asking for mercy and redemption? Noo idea. I was so confused. Then the next thing I knew, I was down there with them too crying and praying and all that. I was bowing down and lifting my hands. It was such an emotional atmosphere... then I realized these onlookers were Joyful people!! So somehow I ended up with my congregation members. How completely and utterly bizarre.&lt;br /&gt;What were we doing? I don't quite understand...yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I woke up from that dream and rushed to go talk to my pastor. I told him all about that dream and I don't even remember what he concluded.. something about me needing to trust God more and to know that not all dreams come from God. I told him how scary and REAL it felt to see a dead man and the feelings that came with that. Even though it was a dream it felt so disturbingly real. So this dream kept going on, switching scenes from a formal dinner party with Joyful to moving into a house in 4th year with my Schulich crew.... all the while, thinking that I had the most surreal dream ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then.. I woke up this morning to realize that ALL of the above was a dream. I had a dream that I dreamt about a dead man. So technically I never told my pastor any of this...and I'm contemplating whether or not I should call him up right now and tell him about it.&lt;br /&gt;Actually, what would be the point of that? I don't even understand the point of this dream. Or maybe that is the point... that there is no point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.. dreams within a dream. Kinda throws off your day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1142642567418906446?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1142642567418906446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1142642567418906446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1142642567418906446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1142642567418906446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/02/dream-within-dream.html' title='A dream within a dream'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-5881290192387538014</id><published>2009-02-10T21:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T22:59:49.174-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ad augusta per angusta</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Through trial to triumph. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;To high places by narrow roads. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;I really like this Latin phrase. I came across it after looking up the word "Imago Dei" which is Latin for "God's image". Anyway, to high places by narrow roads. This phrase pertains to Mathew 7:14, "But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." I feel that we get too caught up in ideas, formulas, and maps that we lose sight of what really is the right path to success, to the answer, and to our destination. Then coming back to our roots we find that in order to get to high places is through an important concept called the 'narrow road'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I can definitely testify to this: the world won't give you what you're looking for. I think we try so hard searching outwardly for anything to satisfy and provide.. but the only good that it ever does is polish our outward skin. But skin is constantly shedding and peeling, which means constant re-polishing. Plus, isn't polish just a glaze &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;over&lt;/span&gt; the surface.. something to make you sparkle for a little while only to become dull again? What I'm implying is that this endless cycle will wear out as we get tired of dumping the old and trying the new. I don't know about you but I get tired of always searching, doing, performing.. because surely there's a limit to this world and a limit to our economical reaches. I guess this means the road just got way way narrower. So what next, where to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This brings us to the inward self.. the shed-proof soul that will be there now and forever more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It wants that everlasting treatment that doesn't just polish but penetrates deep into the skin (I sound like a face wash commercial)... or more simply put, unconditional fulfillment. Personally, I want a feeding that will never let me go hungry for more or anything other.  And I know that dainty objects, philosophical reasoning, and scientific experiments won't come close to that. So I have come to know Jesus Christ, a man that I call Saviour, Father, friend, and Bridegroom. He is my narrow road because it is only &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;through&lt;/span&gt; him and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; of him that I will reach my high place, grasp triumph, and be abundantly filled. Jesus Christ offers something completely out of this world (literally!) and that is great and exactly what I need because like I mentioned before, nothing of this world satisfies anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although this topic is for another night reflection, I'll mention it only briefly.. Jesus is not offering me a religion. He is giving me him, someone who I can walk with along this life long journey.. sowing with tears and love and reaping benefits beyond my imagination. And in the end, by walking with Jesus (the narrow road), I will be one of those few that find the gates that open to Life. It's what my soul craves for.. the high place &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; the narrow road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-5881290192387538014?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/5881290192387538014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=5881290192387538014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5881290192387538014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5881290192387538014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/02/ad-augusta-per-angusta.html' title='Ad augusta per angusta'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-7754377529071235560</id><published>2009-02-06T09:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T11:59:21.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To My Dearest</title><content type='html'>There are about a million things running through my mind right now but as I was reading your entry, everything just stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, there's no need to be 'sorry' about your behavior (because then I would have to be sorry for my lack of behavior and the next thing we know we're just apologizing in circles and never getting to the point). Everyone's first instinct of survival is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;protecting&lt;/span&gt; themselves and I completely understand you in that. People fail to love themselves and love each other and that's why it's so hard to trust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish I could say that I've been in your shoes and know how you feel... but I haven't and I can't begin to know how you're feeling. And honestly, that's where people and friendships fall short. It's the fact that I can't fully understand you and you can't fully know me, which leaves a huge gap hanging there. BUT, what I do know for certain is that our God &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt;. Our God is the fill-in-the-gap between you and me (y'know, that gap that you find with your non christian friends). He is the way, the truth and the life... and in one simple word, He is love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why you always hear in the back of your mind "I should go to God first." Your subconscious is right. It's God, not me or her or him, who fully understands and knows your feelings. And God knows it so well because He felt it in the flesh.&lt;br /&gt;I hope you're prepared to hear me preach about Jesus because what kind of loving sister would I be if I didn't? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1 Peter 5:7&lt;/span&gt; says, "Cast &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt; your anxiety on Him because He &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cares&lt;/span&gt; for you." Remember that it's Satan who constantly deceives you and tells you otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also want to tell you something that touched my heart so much: how the Lord reminded me day after day that PERFECT love drives out fear. Through all of our pain and struggles comes fear. Fear of trusting, fear of trying, fear of letting your pride go... And it's a scary thought of what fear makes us do. We end up believing that we're incapable and we lose complete direction. I mentioned that Satan deceives us.. which means that he uses fear to trick us. And so the whirlwind begins. We struggle, we fall, we CRY, we fear... and then we HATE, build walls, stir up anger, and we hate even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you and I, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;as children of God&lt;/span&gt;, aren't meant for this kind of anguish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is not fair and not perfect because people will fail each other everyday. But God won't fail you. His purpose is too majestic for it to fall through just because you're stuck. He has made a promise to us.. and that is his perfect love. This is our tool for fixing. This is our shoulder to cry on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now comes the question of how to seek this love and comfort the Lord claims to provide.&lt;br /&gt;I read this quote by Charles Spurgeon who said that "sorrow is the cloud which brings the shower of supplication." He is talking about prayer. Faith produces prayer and prayer produces faith, which ultimately gives us perseverance. We must never underestimate and doubt God's power because in Ephesians 3:20 it says: &lt;span id="en-NIV-29256" class="sup"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;Now to Him who is able to do &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine&lt;/span&gt;, according to His power that is at work within us..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all, we need to invite Him into our hearts so that his power and love can drive out our fears and sorrows and bless us to heights that we can't even fathom. There is a promise and purpose to everything we go through. That is the truth and we're just kidding ourselves thinking otherwise. So let's have hope for better days and keep pushing closer to God. He is the perfect being to have a relationship with since "vain is the help of man" (Psalm 108:12).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe we just need to reverse our thinking like Thane Pittman when he says, "I'll see it when I believe it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Starfield - Shripwreck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I built a fortress&lt;br /&gt;With a hundred thousand faces&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep it safe&lt;br /&gt;With a hundred thousand more&lt;br /&gt;But these masks are wearing thin&lt;br /&gt;As You draw me in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent my time&lt;br /&gt;On the empty and the fleeting&lt;br /&gt;I spent my life&lt;br /&gt;On much less than I'd dreamed&lt;br /&gt;But I'm reaching out to you&lt;br /&gt;To make me new&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I am just a beggar here at Your door&lt;br /&gt;I am just a shipwreck here on Your shore&lt;br /&gt;I come empty handed&lt;br /&gt;Ready to see&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Your life in me changing who I've been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; To who I need to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-7754377529071235560?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/7754377529071235560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=7754377529071235560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7754377529071235560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/7754377529071235560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/02/to-my-dearest.html' title='To My Dearest'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-4666900402555065768</id><published>2009-01-25T18:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T21:41:22.918-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A photo that makes you stop to think:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/SX0ema7iY1I/AAAAAAAAAAw/LbzULDetxCg/s1600-h/change.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295422382270473042" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 287px; cursor: pointer; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/SX0ema7iY1I/AAAAAAAAAAw/LbzULDetxCg/s320/change.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've always wanted to be a citizen for humanity.. but I guess not enough to try and make a difference. But coming across this photo has reminded me of the burden we fail to carry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;How can I make it a reality to me when I live in such a sealed bubble? Either I'm afraid to come out or I don't know how to come out or.. I'm just making up excuses and I think 'me' is more important. The latter is probably true but.. I need to do something and stop being so oblivious! I waste so much time. God, I'm asking for an opportunity and I hope that my pride doesn't get in the way. There are those who desperately need CHANGE.. including myself. Change my heart, O God and make it so ever true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-4666900402555065768?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/4666900402555065768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=4666900402555065768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4666900402555065768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4666900402555065768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-love-this.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/SX0ema7iY1I/AAAAAAAAAAw/LbzULDetxCg/s72-c/change.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1322307323565353206</id><published>2009-01-23T07:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T07:44:24.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty for Ashes, Joy for Pain</title><content type='html'>A damn good song by Starfield called Over My Head.&lt;br /&gt;This hits me &lt;em&gt;every &lt;/em&gt;time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the words have all been said&lt;br /&gt;After the songs are sung&lt;br /&gt;I realize I've only but just begun&lt;br /&gt;Trying to wrap my mind around&lt;br /&gt;Extravagant love come down&lt;br /&gt;Leaves me undone&lt;br /&gt;Finds me with nothing to say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unquenchable songs and endless praise&lt;br /&gt;A million tongues poised to sing&lt;br /&gt;Could still not convey&lt;br /&gt;The worth that Your name deserves&lt;br /&gt;Beauty for ashes&lt;br /&gt;Joy for pain&lt;br /&gt;Mercy instead of my blame&lt;br /&gt;Ruins me for more&lt;br /&gt;I'm lost in Your presence, Lord&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost for the words to say&lt;br /&gt;I'm left here in disarray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Waiting for You, waiting on truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've thrown reason overboard&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that there's still more&lt;br /&gt;I don't yet believe, I can't even perceive&lt;br /&gt;I can't seem to understand&lt;br /&gt;Can't seem to find my way&lt;br /&gt;It's over my head, it's over my head&lt;br /&gt;Learning this mystery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Trust what I cannot see&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's over my head, it's over my head&lt;br /&gt;The wonder of all You've made&lt;br /&gt;Foundations Your hands have laid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Ruined for anything other than Your love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm desperate to know You, Lord&lt;br /&gt;Desperate for what's in store&lt;br /&gt;Finding my hope in only You, in only You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Take me beyond this door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lead me to something more&lt;br /&gt;Open my heart up for more of You, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;more of You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1322307323565353206?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1322307323565353206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1322307323565353206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1322307323565353206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1322307323565353206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/01/thrown-reason-overboard.html' title='Beauty for Ashes, Joy for Pain'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-2265639111085203817</id><published>2009-01-19T10:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T21:34:17.374-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My God is amazing I tell ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So according to the dream I wrote below.. I think God helped me figure it out.&lt;br /&gt;I've been so ashamed of myself and the things I've done that I didn't even want to let the people that love me, see me. God wants to celebrate His love for us no matter who we are and what we look like. But I was so upset and so scared to let anyone see me like that.&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's because in the end, as long as we recover from the fires and burns we endure, God will always be there with arms open wide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Isaiah 50:10&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who among you fears the LORD&lt;br /&gt;and obeys the word of his servant?&lt;br /&gt;Let him who walks in the dark,&lt;br /&gt;who has no light,&lt;br /&gt;trust in the name of the LORD&lt;br /&gt;and rely on his God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Psalm 103:12&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As far as the east is from the west,  so far has he removed our transgressions from us."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-2265639111085203817?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/2265639111085203817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=2265639111085203817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2265639111085203817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2265639111085203817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-god-is-amazing-i-tell-ya.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-2363508846393719114</id><published>2009-01-17T15:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T16:01:26.714-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Journal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So last night I had another crazy episode in my sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Here we go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had fallen down.. lying there on my side not being able to move because my legs were numb. I looked up and all I saw were flames scattered around me and a huge fire just growing and growing. At first I tried and tried to move and escape but my legs were so limp and I was in so much pain that I didn't even have enough strength to pull my body away. So I just quit, and put my head back down and laid there so helpless. I could feel the fire burning my flesh but I didn't do anything.&lt;br /&gt;Then, I don't know when and how, I saw someone coming for me and he got me out of the fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couple weeks later.. I recovered. My legs were demented/half crippled, my hands were burned and all scarred, and half my face was just drooping to one side like the flesh melted. I looked like a monster and I was so depressed.&lt;br /&gt;All the people I knew threw a huge party for me at this massive auditorium/theatre to recognize my efforts or something? I wasn't sure what I had done because the fire accident was all just a quick blurr. Anyway, during this long celebration I was wandering around trying to find someone I knew well because I was feeling more than overwhelmed at this point. I wasn't even enjoying myself. I was upset, shocked.. but mostly confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was walking around, I noticed my limping and my hands and my face. I started crying and I was so distraught. I grab held of a knife and started threatening everyone around me. I told people to get the hell out of my way and get out of here and go home. I was waving the knife around stabbing it through the air, showing my anger. I was scarred not only on the outside but on the inside. There was something more than just the fire that burned.. but I couldn't remember. (I was yelling and crying my eyes out in my dream)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then as everyone started running out the door, shocked of my irradical behaviour.. I fell down and just cried. My friend (and it's ironic how it just had to be &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; person.. the one I'm referring to in my last post) sat down with me. He smiled at me and I smiled back. I was suddenly at peace that he was beside me. He tried comforting me and telling me that everything was going to be okay.&lt;br /&gt;I took his words with trust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's all I remember for now..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-2363508846393719114?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/2363508846393719114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=2363508846393719114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2363508846393719114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2363508846393719114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2009/01/dream-journal.html' title='Dream Journal'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-8231430528326469058</id><published>2008-12-30T15:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T09:31:30.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let it all out</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Today is Tuesday December 30th, 2008.. not any special or particular day.. just another passing day, an ordinary day where I find myself following the same circle of thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;It's like it never leaves me... or I just can't leave it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I were to give it a chance?&lt;br /&gt;Nevermind that 'sometimes'.. all the time.. I wonder. I've got these reoccuring dreams that pretty much admit my curiousness, regret, and.. desperateness? to just talk to you. But as selfish and odd as this is to say.. I know that part of this desire is flamed by the chase. It's the game that keeps me wanting and I feel sorry for myself that my pride will never let me lose. I'm afraid that I'll fall deep once I'm in.. but I know better now to stay away (at least I try to seem like I do).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has the right to ruin their lives, but to ruin the lives of others?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-8231430528326469058?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/8231430528326469058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=8231430528326469058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8231430528326469058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8231430528326469058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/12/let-it-all-out.html' title='Let it all out'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1626326390685521084</id><published>2008-11-30T21:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T21:14:08.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Now that I am a Christian I do have moods in which the whole thing looks very improbable."&lt;br /&gt;- C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Great admission, however Lewis then went on to add, "...but when I was an atheist I had moods in which Christianity looked terribly probable. This rebellion of your moods against your real self is going to come anyway. That is why Faith is such a necessary virtue: unless you teach your moods where they get off, you can never be either a sound Christian or even a sound atheist, but just a creature dithering to and fro, with its beliefs really dependent on the weather and the state of its digestion. Consequently one must &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;train the habit of Faith&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1626326390685521084?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1626326390685521084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1626326390685521084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1626326390685521084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1626326390685521084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/11/now-that-i-am-christian-i-do-have-moods.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-4875201804726795529</id><published>2008-11-30T19:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T16:21:53.007-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Postures of the Mind, Affections of the Heart</title><content type='html'>Excerpt from Ravi Zacharias!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following 3 interesting quotes are from 3 atheists:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want this world not to have meaning. Because a meaningless world frees me to my own erotic and political pursuits." - Aldus Huxley, Atheist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If we can get only one intelligent message from outer space, then we know there is intelligent life out there." - Carl Sagon, Athesit&lt;br /&gt;(response: Did he not pause for a moment to realize that just one strand of human DNA has 600,000 pages of information? I don't know how much more 'intelligent' you can get.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Will somebody somewhere please love me?" - Madeline Mully O'hair, Atheist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THUS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mind is to the soul, what the brain is to the body.&lt;br /&gt;When a person begins to get incoherent, we say that they are losing their minds not their brains. Because the mind is the center ground that holds your truths, beliefs, and morals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;3 simple challenges to strengthen your soul:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- 1) Learning how to forget:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;- shutting the gate on those issues that bring you down&lt;br /&gt;- letting go, pressing on.&lt;br /&gt;2) Be determined to what you are going to remember:&lt;br /&gt;- Solomon struggling with "life's meaning" - Remember now thy creator in the days of thy youth!&lt;br /&gt;- is this world here by accident or is this world here created by a divine will?&lt;br /&gt;3) Be committed to His love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-4875201804726795529?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/4875201804726795529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=4875201804726795529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4875201804726795529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4875201804726795529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/11/postures-of-mind-affections-of-heart.html' title='Postures of the Mind, Affections of the Heart'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-9066508128199591584</id><published>2008-11-24T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T21:25:56.947-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Piano Inspirees</title><content type='html'>Beethoven - Moonlight Sonata 3rd movement&lt;br /&gt;Chopin - Fantasie Impromptu&lt;br /&gt;Mozart - Requiem&lt;br /&gt;Rachmaninoff - Elegie in E-flat Minor op.3 no. 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These guys are so inspiring..!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy to know that even though they composed these songs centuries ago .. they still live on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-9066508128199591584?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/9066508128199591584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=9066508128199591584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/9066508128199591584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/9066508128199591584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/11/beethoven-chopin-rachmaninoff.html' title='Piano Inspirees'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-5705838690994807448</id><published>2008-11-21T12:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T21:53:22.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Dream</title><content type='html'>Two nights ago I experienced this really wacked out dream.. here it goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was with a friend walking down this long narrow corridor (it resembled a dorm) and was knocking on each door to see if I could get let in. After each failed response, finally an acquaintance popped out from a room to my left and invited us in. At this point I was sort of confused as to what was going on and why everyone was hiding in their rooms.. but it clicked in soon enough. I realized that there were these regime/cult people with masked faces and guns walking up and down the hallway trying to find anyone in their rooms with lights on. But we had our lights shut off and we were crouching on the floor trying not to breathe so that they wouldn't catch us. We could hear them coming closer and closer to our room and finally they stopped at the outside of our door and we quickly went into this knelt down prayer position and began reciting this prayer. For some reason, I had an inclination that we were practising the Muslim faith and these people we were terrified of were checking up on us. Anyway, being the rebel I am, I finally stood up because I knew this wasn't right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly one of the guards (who took off her scarf covering her face) came after me with a pair of scissors in one hand and a pocket knife in the other. She ended up stabbing the knife in my left hand and making slits in my right arm with the scissors as we chased each other around the room. But somehow my friend found a small handgun near her and passed it to me.. and I threatened the woman guard and ended up grabbing the scissors and knife out of her hand and stabbing her repeatedly and shot her in the stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this, me and my friend hid in the closet because we could hear the other people coming to see what had just happened. They looked and saw their guard dead on the floor and as quietly as i tried to be in the closet, the terrorist man turned around to look into the closet and we met eyes through the opened crack. Then I burst out of the closet and shot each person in front of me who were about to attack me one by one (there were 5 guys).. and even though I was able to shoot the fifth guy, he ended up aiming for a bullet at my forehead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I was standing in shock, shot in the forehead and in slow motion I fell to the ground..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-5705838690994807448?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/5705838690994807448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=5705838690994807448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5705838690994807448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5705838690994807448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/11/crazy-dream.html' title='Crazy Dream'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-5933369027796782601</id><published>2008-11-19T00:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T17:50:08.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;If you only had one night to live... who would you spend it with?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-5933369027796782601?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/5933369027796782601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=5933369027796782601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5933369027796782601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5933369027796782601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/11/if-you-only-had-one-night-to-live.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-6128704469164288639</id><published>2008-11-15T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T11:25:22.844-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Excerpt from Talent is Never Enough:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the paradoxes of life is that the things which initially make you successful, are not necessarily the things that keep you successful. You have to remain open to new ideas and be willing to learn new skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr J Konrad Hole says:&lt;br /&gt;'If you cannot be teachable, having talent won't help you.&lt;br /&gt;If you cannot be flexible, having a goal won't help you.&lt;br /&gt;If you cannot be grateful, having abundance won't help you.&lt;br /&gt;If you cannot be mentor-able, having a future won't help you.&lt;br /&gt;If you cannot be durable, having a plan won't help you.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confined to a dungeon and facing the certainty of an executioner's chopping block, Paul writes to Timothy and asks him to bring:&lt;br /&gt;a) Writing paper. 'I still have something to say.'&lt;br /&gt;b) books. 'I still have more to learn' (2 Timothy 4:13)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Learning should be our lifelong pursuit.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-6128704469164288639?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/6128704469164288639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=6128704469164288639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6128704469164288639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/6128704469164288639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/11/excerpt-from-talent-is-never-enough-one.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-5365488143081738613</id><published>2008-11-12T21:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T18:50:43.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;They say that running is a mental sport.  You would be surprised at how much you can do and how far you can go just by convincing yourself.  It's the power of persuasion, determination and, I would say, the power of denial.  Yes you're eager to cross the finish-line but you can't get there if you keep thinking about the pain in your legs.  The thought of pain hinders your mentality and ultimately slows your pace.  So as runners we dismiss it and that proves to take us a long way ahead.. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So I was thinking about what I've been up to lately and how I feel like I've got this adrenaline pumping through me that won't stop. It feels like I've been running this race forever and the aches in my body aren't catching up to me.  Maybe I'm just incredibly prepared for marathons but I know deep inside I'm not healthy. I need rest. What once started out as an ambitious goal to run to that finish-line has now turned into an obsession to run away. And far far away I have ran, too stubborn and afraid to stop and tend to my aches. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Denial. I picked up a bad habit and haven't you, too? So many of us can't face our demons. So many of us can't hold our heads on our shoulders because we're so battered up inside. Running is suppose to be a sport of good intentions but we somehow bruise the idea. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-5365488143081738613?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/5365488143081738613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=5365488143081738613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5365488143081738613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5365488143081738613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/11/they-say-that-running-is-mental-sport.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-2927387552549544337</id><published>2008-11-12T13:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T15:04:51.750-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Nullis Secundus -- second to none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been waking up with cold sweats. My dreams are acting up again.. drawing me into these whirlwind dramas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;1) I was stranded at York with no way home but my two feet. I started up and down these hills which were along the highway and suddenly a friend of mine who appeared from no where warned me of the man who was walking behind me. I quickened my pace and very soon I was running as he followed my tail. He eventually caught up and kidnapped me and the next thing I knew I was in the middle of a forest standing at the front of an old-fashioned mansion that had an "abandonment" feel to it.. Then I found myself lying close to the edge of a bed next to that creepy man and this other woman who were still sleeping (my clothes were still on, thank God?) .. So I quietly pulled myself up and walked to the next room which had a very authentic portrait mirror and I walked up close to look at myself. My throat was swollen so I opened my mouth to see my tonsils (don't ask) and when I looked to the back of my throat I saw my eyeballs looking back at me. Freaked out, I closed my mouth and moved on.&lt;br /&gt;Finally I saw other younger kids at the house too with cute prairie dresses on playing in the backyard and running around the long dining table. But something was wrong. Something was off. It felt like everyone was naive or oblivious to the fact that this creepy old man just kidnapped me and brought me here. I had no idea who these people were but somehow I was snatched into their world, restricted under their rules.. and forced to obey. Then it clicked into my head that the "mom and dad" were abusers and I was just another victim stuck here in the middle of no where with no one searching for me because no one knew I was gone.  And the kids were unaware of anything going on because they were young and so use to this..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, what ended up happening was that out of my senses, I had to rebel and save myself. I locked everyone in the house and lit the house on fire from a single match that I found. Everyone started screaming and trying to escape as I closed the doors but I decided to let one girl free because I really liked her and she was so innocent.&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) This dream was with random Joyful peeps. At first there was a mission to be accomplished. I was in this rich-looking building.. that had escalators, high ceilings, many floors, statues, lots of pillars and stairs, etc.. it almost resembled the interior of a grand cruise ship. I was with two other people and we were running, trying to hide and get away from the black mob who were after us. Kind of like the ps2 Halo Gun game, I was able to jump from floor to floor and hop over  and squeeze underneath railings and balconies. Our mission was to just get through the maze of the building and to the underground parking lot and meet the rest of our team. Finally after running around and going in and out of elevators and jumping over escalators to the next floor and locking doors behind us.. we made it to the parking lot.. and we were looking for the yellow race-car convertible with sliding doors. Finally, it came roaring around the corner. But we also saw some mob gang members looking for us.. but we quickly fit 8 people in the car, sealed the doors shut, and drove off at an unbelievable speed. The mob just missed us..they were looking around in confusion wondering how we could have escaped. Smoothhh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, then my dream turned into something else and I was driving a golf cart with a couple of friends in the back seat. Then we drove off up onto this hill and got off at this big cabin centre. Inside, counselors and kids were seated eating their lunch... fries and wings to be precise.. and some man dressed in this funny animal costume started talking about a different religion/cult I had no idea was about. He was trying to encourage us, or more like brainwash us, into believing his doctrines and ideologies.. I knew there was something off about it.. there was no Jesus and the cross involved.. just some animal religion. I don't know..&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&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/3968198617615434082-2927387552549544337?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/2927387552549544337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=2927387552549544337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2927387552549544337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/2927387552549544337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/11/nullis-secundus-second-to-none.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-8038066220315563437</id><published>2008-10-30T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T22:43:01.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>How do I...&lt;br /&gt;take on change?&lt;br /&gt;trust-fall backwards?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;say goodbye?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-8038066220315563437?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/8038066220315563437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=8038066220315563437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8038066220315563437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/8038066220315563437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-do-i.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1956812483382573735</id><published>2008-10-26T18:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T18:57:34.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm going to start blogging my dreams down more often. Hopefully I can get a clearer sense of what they mean. As per last night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my dream I broke into this tight-spaced backroom that had shelves and shelves of fragile glass, porcelin, china plates, etc. My &lt;em&gt;mission &lt;/em&gt;was to steal them and I managed to pick up some but accidently dropped a glass plate. My heart was pounding and it shattered making this slow motion crashing sound. It felt like a lot of adrenaline.. but I continued to be as steady as I could so that we wouldn't get caught. Then I waited for my partners to grab their stuff and we slowly snuck out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I heard this quote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"In denial.. friend or foe?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would say at this point in time.. it has become my very best friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1956812483382573735?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1956812483382573735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1956812483382573735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1956812483382573735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1956812483382573735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/10/in-my-dream-last-night-i-broke-into.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-9215804992043363734</id><published>2008-09-23T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T17:06:07.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"I must say a word about fear. It is life's only true opponent. It is a clever, treacherous adversary, how well I know. It goes for your weakest spot, which it finds with unerring ease. It begins in your mind, always. Doubt meets disbelief and disbelief tries to push it out. But disbelief is a poorly armed foot soldier..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The Life of Pi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-9215804992043363734?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/9215804992043363734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=9215804992043363734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/9215804992043363734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/9215804992043363734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-must-say-word-about-fear.html' title=''/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-259175865026517097</id><published>2008-08-01T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T07:50:16.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Pray or Not to Pray?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;About a few months ago, someone challenged me to pray for my future husband. She advised me that it's a genuine prayer and that with God, it's &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; too much to ask for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But to be honest, it seemed like a silly prayer and at times, it still does. I'd say because it's too much of an open book. I was clustered with questions before I could even start to pray. And let me tell you now that there is no "How To:" manual on this one because it's simply.. very simply, faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as I began praying for this man of mine with no expectation or knowledge of what should and will happen next, I felt dumb. The more questions I had, the more apprehensive I started to become and the more doubtful, the more complacent .. it started from "I'm only 19" to "I'm not even dating" to "I don't want to grow this fast because the more you learn, the more that's expected of you". Purpose started to lose itself in my doubt like quicksand.&lt;br /&gt;But surely enough, God never fails to get his message through to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that my habit and attitude towards this wasn't just about my future husband.. it was about everything I attended for in my life.. everything I prayed about. He showed me through my lack of faith and my precarious prayers that I come to our God underestimating His will. I mean, I know eventually I'll get to the whole marriage ordeal.. but if I can't solidly pray for what I know is already going to happen, how can I ever believe that God will do something for me that is unseen or uncertain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When comes those mountains hidden by clouds, I'll need bigger faith to let God take me to the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Faith is perseverance and perseverance is faith.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-259175865026517097?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/259175865026517097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=259175865026517097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/259175865026517097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/259175865026517097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/08/about-few-months-ago-someone-challenged.html' title='To Pray or Not to Pray?'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-5027171120747613515</id><published>2008-07-21T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T10:53:23.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is Life</title><content type='html'>I come in empty, I leave filled&lt;br /&gt;Bring my sickness, I leave healed&lt;br /&gt;Broken-hearted, You mend every piece&lt;br /&gt;I come in captive, I leave free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are all over&lt;br /&gt;You are around&lt;br /&gt;You are inside&lt;br /&gt;This is life, this is life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Note to self:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never settle for second best. Complacency claims too much of what we could have.. it is the "success disease".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-5027171120747613515?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/5027171120747613515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=5027171120747613515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5027171120747613515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/5027171120747613515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-is-life.html' title='This Is Life'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-4292313616125850410</id><published>2008-05-28T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T13:16:03.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Jolly Beggar</title><content type='html'>Is there such a person to be so desperate as to beg yet jolly in their state?&lt;br /&gt;The meaning of this oxymoron has been in my question for some time.. only to realize that it's much simpler than I had thought. The world births beggars but it's the ones who meet God that make them different from the rest. You see, although mortal life proves to be viciously disappointing, there is admist darkness a reason to be grateful and joyous. That is, God's gift of grace is the reason to happily beg at the feet of the king and not of some meaningless idol. We're happy because we know we're saved... that even though we lay out homeless on the streets we know that it's only temporary and that on destiny's day we will beg no more for eternity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-4292313616125850410?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/4292313616125850410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=4292313616125850410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4292313616125850410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/4292313616125850410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/05/jolly-beggar.html' title='The Jolly Beggar'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3968198617615434082.post-1910793281695930409</id><published>2008-03-09T20:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T19:05:01.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter One - Backwards</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Are signs and convictions really real or is it self-imposing?&lt;br /&gt;Is it that we doubt too much or we're just afraid to admit one truth?&lt;br /&gt;And what makes us miss every wave of the sea?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is a forward continuum but I've been stuck in its most torturesome dimension... the past.&lt;br /&gt;And finally now I am determined to break free. I've got no  energy left to doubt anymore. What I've come to understand is that the moment you recognize the past is the unchangeable and the future is a possibility, the present becomes your best friend and your defining moment. So why can't we stay in the moment? Why do we worry about tomorrow and the past when today has its problems of its own?&lt;br /&gt;What you choose to act on now, the things you hold on closer to, and the things you let go will take you as far forward or backwards according to your efforts. In all sense, it's the danger of expending our own free will and the fact that our choices could take us somewhere horrid. But if we can choose to admit God's truth I think that's when the present will be most meaningful and we'll be able to face it in stillness and.. without fear. Hence, it's not the fact that we can't swim out, it's the fact that we've been fooled into thinking we weren't capable of doing so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3968198617615434082-1910793281695930409?l=xtiramisu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/feeds/1910793281695930409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3968198617615434082&amp;postID=1910793281695930409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1910793281695930409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3968198617615434082/posts/default/1910793281695930409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://xtiramisu.blogspot.com/2008/03/chapter-one-backwards.html' title='Chapter One - Backwards'/><author><name>xtine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17703092168819866548</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1DfqD8_FmI/TUuG0OJRvrI/AAAAAAAAARg/Jv7Z5DC1_44/s220/london.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
