<?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-6713339861429113500</id><updated>2012-02-01T21:39:09.010+02:00</updated><category term='childhood'/><category term='gal friday'/><category term='funny'/><category term='ballet'/><category term='garden'/><category term='easter bunny'/><category term='poster'/><category term='challenge.19'/><category term='literary.challenge'/><category term='easter'/><category term='ranting'/><category term='tragedy'/><category term='obsession'/><category term='online friendship'/><category term='italy'/><category term='little.voice'/><category term='healing spring'/><category term='repost'/><category term='spring'/><category term='video'/><category term='writer&apos;s.block'/><category term='bigraphies'/><category term='morning'/><category term='tv'/><category term='zaraza'/><category term='carmen'/><category term='russian'/><category term='easter eggs'/><category term='nichita.stanescu'/><category term='phone calls'/><category term='challenge.23'/><category term='kids'/><category term='gala'/><category term='challenge.18'/><category term='story'/><category term='colleague'/><category term='coco chanel'/><category term='maia.plisetskaya'/><category term='advice'/><category term='rip'/><category term='russian.dance'/><category term='stormy.night'/><category term='mattino'/><category term='memory'/><category term='nichita stanescu'/><category term='school'/><category term='bucharest'/><category term='heart'/><category term='hedgehog'/><category term='old.bucharest'/><category term='challenge.25'/><category term='anonymous'/><category term='shortstory'/><category term='autumn'/><category term='flickr'/><category term='fun'/><category term='flowers'/><category term='communist era'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='love'/><category term='silent'/><category term='weight'/><category term='sleepless'/><category term='challenge.21'/><category term='silly'/><category term='week'/><category term='pionier'/><category term='paper dress'/><category term='poem'/><category term='talking'/><category term='european'/><category term='romania'/><category term='sea'/><category term='song'/><category term='tag'/><category term='winter'/><category term='photos'/><category term='giuseppe ungaretti'/><category term='homework'/><category term='swan'/><category term='survey'/><category term='san gimignano'/><category term='go on'/><category term='flu'/><category term='grown up'/><category term='nose'/><category term='hibernation'/><category term='road'/><category term='days'/><category term='thinking'/><category term='acrostic'/><category term='personal experience'/><category term='mirrors'/><category term='autobiographies'/><category term='me'/><category term='blogthings'/><category term='politics'/><category term='valentine'/><category term='name'/><category term='weekend'/><category term='fashion'/><category term='quiz'/><category term='cristian.vasile'/><category term='life'/><category term='words'/><category term='communist.era'/><category term='caller'/><category term='languages'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='friday fill-in'/><category term='digital'/><category term='paranoia'/><category term='yahoo.360'/><title type='text'>Me, myself and my own</title><subtitle type='html'>quick notes of mainly personal interest</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>56</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-477588660282360977</id><published>2012-01-19T22:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T22:36:37.740+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud to be Romanian</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yj74DcUHYqs/Txh9UiT-f8I/AAAAAAAAP3g/RzVUlOmDNao/s1600/va-rugam-sa-ne-scuzati-nu-producem-cat-furati.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nfa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yj74DcUHYqs/Txh9UiT-f8I/AAAAAAAAP3g/RzVUlOmDNao/s1600/va-rugam-sa-ne-scuzati-nu-producem-cat-furati.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Today, after 7 days of demonstrations all over the country, I'm proud again to be Romanian. Too much humiliation these past years and struggling to make it and finally people have had enough..."We apologize if we can't produce as much as you can steal", that's only one of the things people have to say...All categories of people are out there on the street: rich and poor, educated and non educated, old and young, just everyone...I feel that this country, after 20 years has awoken...Why does it take us so long to fight back? Well, it's never too late, and there's still hope. Tonight I'm filled with hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-477588660282360977?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/477588660282360977/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=477588660282360977' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/477588660282360977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/477588660282360977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2012/01/proud-to-be-romanian.html' title='Proud to be Romanian'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yj74DcUHYqs/Txh9UiT-f8I/AAAAAAAAP3g/RzVUlOmDNao/s72-c/va-rugam-sa-ne-scuzati-nu-producem-cat-furati.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-8365801836255985447</id><published>2012-01-16T02:29:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T02:29:59.974+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grown up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleepless'/><title type='text'>Alas, I'm living in a grown up wold</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6WMdxZsa6Q4/TxNvGlTOv-I/AAAAAAAAPr8/-7dUueV5pwI/s1600/Picture+355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" kba="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6WMdxZsa6Q4/TxNvGlTOv-I/AAAAAAAAPr8/-7dUueV5pwI/s320/Picture+355.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I can’t sleep, it’s 2am and I've given in, got up and came here with the perfectly good excuse that I had decided to start writing in here again...just write, like some sort of journal...The “I can’t sleep part” happens rarely, I am usually so tired that I don’t have a problem sleeping...always around midnight, I can’t do it before!, but after this 3 weeks vacation and one week of sleeping in every day and one liter of Pepsi (which I love, but drink maybe once every 3 months or so) here I am…Oh well, maybe I’m also hiding some facts here, like maybe I can’t sleep because of some thoughts but hey, you can’t expect me to be quite open on my first entry after the prolonged pause of journaling…nor can I promise to ever be able to open up completely, ever, in the cyberspace…but it’s a start, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2012 hasn’t started very well, but that’s nothing new to me, disappointments have been part of my life since…a long time, so my defense system can deal with them pretty well. Because, as a very good friend of mine told me once, “Just keep being yourself, don’t change, and if the others can’t keep up…it’s their problem”. Right he is, I only have to work on the “care less” department now and I’m all set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I received a phone call from a girlfriend around 11pm tonight and we talked for about an hour…about nothing special, just her heart troubles, about why/how come she likes a guy and about why/how come he likes her and about why/how come it’s complicated etc…I was watching “Sex and the City” and it seemed like one those dialogues and I was thinking why in the world do things have to be so complicated all the time? Actually why in the world do people have to complicate things as simple as liking/loving someone? I told her that, since her ego couldn’t allow her to text/call him on futile/teenage grounds…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait, I know, I’ve got to stop thinking things as a child, and realize grown up world has codes to consider and unwritten laws to follow…When will I ever learn that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-8365801836255985447?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/8365801836255985447/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=8365801836255985447' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8365801836255985447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8365801836255985447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2012/01/alas-im-living-in-grown-up-wold.html' title='Alas, I&apos;m living in a grown up wold'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6WMdxZsa6Q4/TxNvGlTOv-I/AAAAAAAAPr8/-7dUueV5pwI/s72-c/Picture+355.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-5108004011642211327</id><published>2010-05-02T11:07:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T11:07:39.834+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hedgehog'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paranoia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'>The hedgehog of discontent</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S90uznk8MFI/AAAAAAAANEQ/L3v6333nYEw/s1600/Picture+210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S90uznk8MFI/AAAAAAAANEQ/L3v6333nYEw/s320/Picture+210.jpg" tt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this blurry photo of a little frightened hedgehog last evening, while driving home after a really pleasant barbecue for the first of May with friends...I had to share the hilarious dialogue that was being carried on while trying to take it...We saw the little guy crossing the street and we stopped our cars instantly to get down and look at it...I had a camera so yeah, let's take a pic of the cute animal! The cute animal though hid in complete darkness by the wall of a block of flats...I and Crina, a friend, followed it. I couldn't see a thing so my first shot was that of a white wall, when a voice from above (turned out it was coming from the second floor) asked:&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing there?"&lt;br /&gt;"We saw a hedgehog and we're taking a picture of it!", I said automatically in the most angelic voice...&lt;br /&gt;"Please step away from the building!", the voice continued and it sounded like we were part of a bad, bad movie...&lt;br /&gt;"Damn!" I said, furious&amp;nbsp;at the first shot I took, "it's just the damn wall! I can't see a thing!"&lt;br /&gt;"You can photograph hedgehogs at the Zoo!" the voice carried on, starting to really piss me off. I was thinking one can't really photograph hedgehogs at the Zoo anyway...&lt;br /&gt;"We'll be gone in a sec" added Crina. "Why don't you carry on with what you were doing?" she suggested....&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking yay, now we'll have an argument with a guy on the second floor and all the people in the building will witness...Fun! lol&lt;br /&gt;And that was the moment I took this shot, the second...and right when I was getting ready to take just the perfect one my battery went dead..&lt;br /&gt;"Damn! My battery's gone! Shoot!" I said and I was thinking that it was all in vain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I'm posting it here now...And that guy...I know there are lots of paranoid people out there...but to guard one's building wall from your window instead of spending your evening with the wife it's pretty desperate...We laughed like there was no tonorrow in the car remembering the exchange of words we had with the guy (some were left out from this dialogue for obvious reasons...;)) Maybe they hate tourists...or maybe that's the way they are...sad!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-5108004011642211327?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/5108004011642211327/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=5108004011642211327' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5108004011642211327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5108004011642211327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/05/hedgehog-of-discontent.html' title='The hedgehog of discontent'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S90uznk8MFI/AAAAAAAANEQ/L3v6333nYEw/s72-c/Picture+210.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6622490569067395517</id><published>2010-04-21T22:57:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T22:59:32.781+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tragedy'/><title type='text'>RIP forever with the angels...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S89XGHQE5mI/AAAAAAAANCc/tmZaF0KIvdY/s1600/candle-flame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S89XGHQE5mI/AAAAAAAANCc/tmZaF0KIvdY/s320/candle-flame.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today a student in our school was killed. She was run over by a garbage truck that was was going backwards...She wasn't my student, but I knew her sweet face,&amp;nbsp;I've often met her on the school stairs, she was always struggling to climb...she had a disability at one leg and she had had several surgical operations on it...I would always admire her for the determination she had in regards of her disability...She was a 7 grader and she looked so sweet...This tragedy has just left&amp;nbsp;me speechless. These kind of things should never happen...I don't know what Turkish people say in such circumstances (she was of Turkish descent and a Muslim)...I'll just say rest in peace, sweet child, fly with the angels...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-6622490569067395517?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6622490569067395517/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6622490569067395517' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6622490569067395517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6622490569067395517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/04/rip-forever-with-angels.html' title='RIP forever with the angels...'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S89XGHQE5mI/AAAAAAAANCc/tmZaF0KIvdY/s72-c/candle-flame.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-2687464847320168680</id><published>2010-04-20T01:04:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T01:07:06.798+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mirrors'/><title type='text'>My necessity room</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S8zMlLK5qII/AAAAAAAANCU/tNHp1Q0oXUI/s1600/cocotata.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S8zMlLK5qII/AAAAAAAANCU/tNHp1Q0oXUI/s320/cocotata.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is me back in 1994. It feels like it was taken ages ago, worlds ago and so many mirrors ago...which have kept intact through the years but have been blackwashed somehow and stored in an attic where I can't seem to be able to reach anymore...Sometimes reflecting flashes show me the way to that attic where all my mirrors found refuge. I never look for that attic even though I'm sure if I tried hard enough I could...because you see that attic is some sort of a Necessity Room, like the one at Hogwards (pour les connoisseurs), all you have to do is really wish to be there and bang! You're there!:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been reminded of things I did and said in the past and even though they're all ME it still feels like they all belong to someone else whom I admire but who's seemingly lost forever...somehwere while working, while trying to become conventional, shallow, boring, polite, a face in the crowd, while trying to fit in, while worrying about money, my job, while shopping, buying mobile phones, losing friends, making friends, loving, getting my heart broken into a million pieces, while moving on and walking on with no apparent time for old or new mirrors for that matter...well,&amp;nbsp;during this so natural and commonest process I've lost my way to that attic...It's definitely time to find it. I've had enough of this mirrorless me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-2687464847320168680?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/2687464847320168680/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=2687464847320168680' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/2687464847320168680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/2687464847320168680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/04/mirror-attic.html' title='My necessity room'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S8zMlLK5qII/AAAAAAAANCU/tNHp1Q0oXUI/s72-c/cocotata.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-1804524230727337549</id><published>2010-04-10T23:53:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T11:11:12.570+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anonymous'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='silent'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='caller'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='phone calls'/><title type='text'>The silent caller</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S8Dc98HcswI/AAAAAAAANB0/Z6DaAfEEIgE/s1600/ndi1277l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S8Dc98HcswI/AAAAAAAANB0/Z6DaAfEEIgE/s320/ndi1277l.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well yes, dear readers, I've got a silent caller and I've finally decided to take the most adventurous voyage&amp;nbsp; and explore my two mobile phones options in search&amp;nbsp;of a rejection method for calls generated by unknown numbers...And that's not easy for a non-technical person such as myself...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't really remember when these phone calls started, maybe last fall...Anyway, I answer when anyone calls me, the only reason I don't pick up is when I can't hear it ring or when obviously I can't pick up because I'm in the middle of a class and the phone is set on silent mode. I always turn my phones off during the night, bad past experience taught me that too...So I answer the phone, especially because an unknown number could mean a payphone or even a call from abroad...Sometimes I don't even take the time to check who's calling on the phone screen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I can't remember when the calls started because they didn't really bother me. They were coming once a month, maybe sometimes every two weeks...First I thought they might be that type of silent phone calls automatically generated by some companies that don't have enough personnel to deal with all the calls...That's because there was no&amp;nbsp;noise in the background, no anything whatsoever...Yesterday I got one of those calls the minute I got to the countryside where I spent most of the day. I had just gotten out of my car and entered my aunt's yard when the phone rang....I felt annoyed because my phone does not ring very often, especially during school breaks, the people I usually talk to are just a few...So I was annoyed, thinking "I surely hope it's not work related!" Then I saw the number was a private one and thought "Come on, maybe this time you'll have the guts to speak!"...I said hello twice or three times, no one spoke as usually...My aunt's dog started barking though, he must have felt there was a stranger on the phone!;) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So&amp;nbsp; getting that phone call didn't bother me. Instead I was thinking...whoever that is, I trust one of these days they'll come out clear and state their name...or at least use articulated sounds put together in words like "Hello"...I know, what planet do I come from? I wouldn't know, I can't remember...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I was pissed though. Where in God's name are those two weeks break between the calls? All the other calls came during the day, I remember one time I was on the school corridor during the break and when the phone rang I was wondering how was I going to hear what the other person was saying? Not a problem, it was just the silent caller. Boy, he had&amp;nbsp; the unique chance to hear the kind of mayhem children make during breaks...ha, that is sweet revenge!;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So no speaking today, but a definite background noise, it might have been a train, tram or even underground...Constanta doesn't have trams anymore, not to mention we don't have subway. Whatever, I hung up. It called back the next second, I picked up and asked in Romanian "Who is on the phone?" thinking "yeah, sure, and pigs fly, they won't tell ya, silly!" And then wow, like in the bad horror/thriller movies I heard THE breathing! bwahahahahahahha! For Christ's sake! Duh! So yeah, after several months, they finally got to my proverbial calm, I'm slightly pissed, hence this entry. Now I need to find someone to show me how to set both my mobile phones to reject these calls...Oh yeah, the weird thing was that the last calls came on my other mobile phone...and not many people know that one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, if my silent caller gets to read this (which I really doubt) I would like to say that there are so many wonderful hobbies he could choose from....bird watching, for instance!;) It's a beautiful world out there. Get out of your box and enjoy it. Seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-1804524230727337549?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/1804524230727337549/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=1804524230727337549' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/1804524230727337549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/1804524230727337549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/04/silent-caller.html' title='The silent caller'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S8Dc98HcswI/AAAAAAAANB0/Z6DaAfEEIgE/s72-c/ndi1277l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-2296840224217907318</id><published>2010-04-09T18:43:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T18:43:52.592+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing spring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flowers'/><title type='text'>Healing Spring</title><content type='html'>The first Friday after Easter we celebrate here the Healing Spring day, a very important religious festivity. It reminds Christians of a healing spring in Constantinopolis the waters of which used to heal people, with at least one documented healing. The Healing Spring started being celebrated the second half of the first christian millenium and people go to churches and especially monasteries that have a spring nearby to take away water on this day and drink it so they can be/stay healthy...The significance of the celebration is deeper though, it comes within the week after Easter when Christians have eaten and drunk too much to remind them that the spirit is more important than matter represented by their stuffed bodies...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Anyway, part of my family chose to spend today outside Constanta, at an aunt's house who lives near a small new monastery which has a spring nearby:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79IvQm6fcI/AAAAAAAANA8/tckGZv1l5pg/s1600/Picture+137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79IvQm6fcI/AAAAAAAANA8/tckGZv1l5pg/s320/Picture+137.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Then we had a nice barbecue and talked and laughed...It was sunny and they had a swing and I swang in it looking at the bright sky and imagining I was touching it, just like when I was a kid...It was a rare occasion to see all four sisters (my mother and her three sisters) together...It's a long story, maybe I'll tell it some other time...here are some snapshots of flowers, cows and geese I took today...I really enjoyed a day in the countryside...:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79JsP9LitI/AAAAAAAANBE/rS2PSP3UPe8/s1600/Picture+130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79JsP9LitI/AAAAAAAANBE/rS2PSP3UPe8/s320/Picture+130.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;people here call these easter bells&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79J5QIg1VI/AAAAAAAANBM/UA6iHi1zin4/s1600/Picture+131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79J5QIg1VI/AAAAAAAANBM/UA6iHi1zin4/s320/Picture+131.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;short irises&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79KDzghQoI/AAAAAAAANBU/OgF9eNU34DM/s1600/Picture+153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79KDzghQoI/AAAAAAAANBU/OgF9eNU34DM/s320/Picture+153.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;wax cherry tree flowers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79KTSUXJ-I/AAAAAAAANBc/fZmdnBx1JRY/s1600/Picture+138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79KTSUXJ-I/AAAAAAAANBc/fZmdnBx1JRY/s320/Picture+138.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;the most peaceful cow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79KjkB0tgI/AAAAAAAANBk/70asRellH6c/s1600/Picture+151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79KjkB0tgI/AAAAAAAANBk/70asRellH6c/s320/Picture+151.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;we went to buy some flower seeds from an old lady and she was leaving on this dusty lane, it seems a photo taken a century ago...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79LH8ySAzI/AAAAAAAANBs/wYbfrBy2YZ4/s1600/Picture+155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79LH8ySAzI/AAAAAAAANBs/wYbfrBy2YZ4/s320/Picture+155.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;neighbour's geese&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-2296840224217907318?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/2296840224217907318/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=2296840224217907318' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/2296840224217907318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/2296840224217907318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/04/healing-spring.html' title='Healing Spring'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S79IvQm6fcI/AAAAAAAANA8/tckGZv1l5pg/s72-c/Picture+137.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-7185087169394905116</id><published>2010-04-03T15:39:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T15:40:13.441+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='easter eggs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='easter bunny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='easter'/><title type='text'>Happy Easter everyone!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S7c2XQx2viI/AAAAAAAAM90/jxtVOQXIu04/s1600/Picture+072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S7c2XQx2viI/AAAAAAAAM90/jxtVOQXIu04/s320/Picture+072.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Guess who's hop, hop, hopping your way?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;To wish you a hap, hap, happy Holiday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Loaded with goodies made just for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It's the Easter Bunny &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;That's who!:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-7185087169394905116?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/7185087169394905116/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=7185087169394905116' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7185087169394905116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7185087169394905116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/04/happy-easter-everyone.html' title='Happy Easter everyone!'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S7c2XQx2viI/AAAAAAAAM90/jxtVOQXIu04/s72-c/Picture+072.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-3004098044245570561</id><published>2010-03-30T16:29:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T16:29:33.868+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='online friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Online Friendship</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S7H4Ctys-JI/AAAAAAAAM88/uRV-d8omjds/s1600/online%2520friendship.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S7H4Ctys-JI/AAAAAAAAM88/uRV-d8omjds/s320/online%2520friendship.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up this morning I had a friend request on my Facebook account that filled me with joy and actually made my whole day. I felt so happy that I forgot about everything that is not going really well in my life right now. I'm sure you are so familiar with the feeling...It's that kind of joy children feel, when nothing else matters but that particular thing, that special state of mind and soul that makes you smile the widest smile and lights up your whole persona, when your own identity is somehow lost to leave place to the "unbearable lightness of being", as Milan Kundera so beautifully expressed it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't one of those "usual" invites I always ignore, from people whom you don't know and who have the personal ambition of adding up friends to their list as a sort of personal prove of "popularity"...&lt;br /&gt;It was an invite from an old friend I had met while blogging on Yahoo 360, and then on Multiply...I had always admired his entries, his beautiful literary writings which were flying on fantasy wings like leaves so naturally float in the air and that were so similar to my own fruit of imagination...So I felt happy he had found me and dignified me with an invite...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this brings me to the title of this entry...I've been so fortunate to find special people while blogging on Yahoo, who were there for me when I needed them, maybe more than friends in my real life, which is quite understandable...In writing I think we've got the opportunity to be far more open and frank about many things in our lives, and it's more likely to find keens while writing than we'd have the opportunity in our real lives, limited by space, time and routine, as we are...And reality can be so demanding that maybe we can't find the time to hold someone's hand, laugh with them, enjoy the good times and find simpathy during the bad times...and even though we part for a while, we continue carrying each other in our minds and souls and when we find each other again it's like we had never been apart...While browsing through my previous blog in order to look for the San Gimignano one, I had the chance to read some of my old entries and the comments left by friends there and I realised how much those helped when I was most in need. Even on the "routine" blogs, I found comments of encouragement and simpathy and I remember how that made me feel...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it all sounds so...idealistic, naive and a bit pathetic, but this is how i feel and I've always felt privileged to be able to find amanzingly beautiful people in this seemingly chaotic Universe...:) I love you all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-3004098044245570561?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/3004098044245570561/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=3004098044245570561' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/3004098044245570561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/3004098044245570561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/03/online-friendship.html' title='Online Friendship'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S7H4Ctys-JI/AAAAAAAAM88/uRV-d8omjds/s72-c/online%2520friendship.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-7652909599644335065</id><published>2010-03-25T23:09:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T23:34:31.486+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='repost'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='san gimignano'/><title type='text'>Fairytale land - San Gimignano, Tuscany</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;This is a repost for my new friends here on Blogger who love Italy...I think I've got one or two more on my old blog and I'll gladly repost them...I was watching some little videos I posted on Youtube and found one from San Gimignano, one of my favourite places on Earth, this little Medieval jewel hidden among Tuscan hills...That year (2007) I had lost significant weight and was going through a bad time so a friend in London had the idea of me visiting there. I said yes, especially I hadn't visited England before...And my friend Erca and my cousins Dana and Dan wanted to visit Tuscany so I did that too at the end of August...It was a great year for travelling and that worked miracles for me...Anyway, here's the repost, it's more like a note with photos and videos. I think my post about Florence was better...I think...ha ha ha!:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6vL5ClHCtI/AAAAAAAAM8k/jEKHQQX275Q/s1600/Picture+881.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6vL5ClHCtI/AAAAAAAAM8k/jEKHQQX275Q/s320/Picture+881.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;"VIAGGIATORE DI PACE&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;e' qualcosa che sei&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;che costruisci&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;che dai agli altri&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;anche qui&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;ora"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;TRAVELLER OF PEACE&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;is something that you are&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;that you build&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;that you give to the others&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;even here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;now&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: center;"&gt;These are the words that welcome you when you go up the Rock of San Gimignano, one of the most wonderful little medieval towns that have survived history...I had been here a few years ago, on a beautiful afternoon, right at sunset and the image I had of it was that only fairy-tales can give you...So I went back there this year to see if the time passed over me will make me change my mind...And no, it didn't...It's all there...the towers, the little streets, the magic...Not even the too many tourists could distract me from my thoughts and constant wonder...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed flashvars="cy=lt&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=216172782125421314&amp;amp;site=widget-02.slide.com" name="flashticker" quality="high" salign="l" scale="noscale" src="http://widget-02.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" style="height: 475px; width: 600px;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; width: 600px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=lt&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=216172782125421314&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ismap="true" src="http://widget-02.slide.com/p1/216172782125421314/lt_t043_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=lt&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=216172782125421314&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ismap="true" src="http://widget-02.slide.com/p2/216172782125421314/lt_t043_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=lt&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=216172782125421314&amp;amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ismap="true" src="http://widget-02.slide.com/p4/216172782125421314/lt_t043_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We witnessed two weddings too...the&amp;nbsp;first couple was British...:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6vNrCozrrI/AAAAAAAAM8s/f2oZQ9y9ruM/s1600/Picture+879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6vNrCozrrI/AAAAAAAAM8s/f2oZQ9y9ruM/s320/Picture+879.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6vN-DjXC6I/AAAAAAAAM80/hkkvtzyMyyg/s1600/Picture+836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6vN-DjXC6I/AAAAAAAAM80/hkkvtzyMyyg/s320/Picture+836.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;We discovered there are lots of British and American visiting this place, as they do with the whole Tuscany and when we entered the church of Sant'Agostino we saw an add saying they celebrate mass every Sunday at 11 in English...:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would go back and stay only there ...definitely so...Oh, I loved a jeweller's shop...all hand made...so beautiful!&lt;br /&gt;Here's a little video I took at the Rock there...forget about my voice...(actually it's kind of funny cause I say at some point "we've arrived here...pause...pause...pause...by bus...ha ha ha!)...I took the video because of the lady playing the harp. Sorry for the quality of the video...:(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sI66ELyfnHo&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&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/sI66ELyfnHo&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After one year, in august 2008 I returned to Italy because my mother hadn't been there in like 15 years...and I found the same lady....I did have the chance to make a short video out of her playing...and I bought one of her CDs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PKI5n_AAV3w&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;"&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/PKI5n_AAV3w&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&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/6713339861429113500-7652909599644335065?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/7652909599644335065/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=7652909599644335065' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7652909599644335065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7652909599644335065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/03/fairytale-land-san-gimignano-tuscany.html' title='Fairytale land - San Gimignano, Tuscany'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6vL5ClHCtI/AAAAAAAAM8k/jEKHQQX275Q/s72-c/Picture+881.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-7466541956282359560</id><published>2010-03-23T22:59:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T23:02:22.940+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='road'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>The perfect road</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6kn-udzDFI/AAAAAAAAM8c/6igPfs86mbk/s1600-h/IMGP0502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6kn-udzDFI/AAAAAAAAM8c/6igPfs86mbk/s320/IMGP0502.jpg" vt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;There was this road I knew &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;happier than a bee in spring&amp;nbsp;around a vergin blossom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Its white long stripes glowing &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;in the sun,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;at night,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;under the rain...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;whispering to the other drivers:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Look at me, just look at me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I am so perfect, so smooth, so...linear...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Look at me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;my four lanes go back and forth,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;straight ahead to your leisure destination...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;to everywhere, anywhere...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Look at me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;One night I got lost on that perfect road&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;and I turned back, leaving my car behind...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;After some time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;my car came back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;"Too bad that perfect road,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;that tiny piece of Universe...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;was going nowhere".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Do I need to leave again?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&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/6713339861429113500-7466541956282359560?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/7466541956282359560/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=7466541956282359560' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7466541956282359560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7466541956282359560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/03/perfect-road.html' title='The perfect road'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6kn-udzDFI/AAAAAAAAM8c/6igPfs86mbk/s72-c/IMGP0502.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-7952839467316131454</id><published>2010-03-21T16:37:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T17:18:28.401+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='giuseppe ungaretti'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mattino'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='morning'/><title type='text'>Morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6YvW610baI/AAAAAAAAM8M/d8R8qoHJ0Mg/s1600-h/Picture+054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451096469777182114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6YvW610baI/AAAAAAAAM8M/d8R8qoHJ0Mg/s320/Picture+054.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's been a glorious sunny day today, so much energy coming from the sun that all of a sudden I could feel it rushing through my veins like precious vital gold, like the last magical ingredient I have longed for, that final glitter making the whole of the receipe perfect. So I went out for a walk by the sea, the only place I could have been...What I felt was exactly whatt Ungaretti must have felt when he wrote "Mattino", perhaps the finest poem ever written:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"M'illumino&lt;br /&gt;d'immenso"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So beautiful in Italian that it almost seems a sacrilegy to give it a translation, any translation...I light up of immensity, or , as I found it on the internet "I flood myself with the light of the immense"...but none of these...sentences...can describe what this little infinite poem can generate when read outloud: M'illumino d'immenso...horizon opens even wider, light invades every cell of one's being, serendipidy settles and freedom seems such an easy target...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After having posted this I went on visiting my friend Tina's blog only to find out today is World Poetry Day! Wow, I did choose my timing posting Ungaretti's poem...:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-7952839467316131454?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/7952839467316131454/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=7952839467316131454' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7952839467316131454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7952839467316131454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/03/morning.html' title='Morning'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6YvW610baI/AAAAAAAAM8M/d8R8qoHJ0Mg/s72-c/Picture+054.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-1953194877944597732</id><published>2010-03-17T08:52:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T11:12:43.053+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personal experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='communist era'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romania'/><title type='text'>Communist Times - a personal experience</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6B8YfDE3NI/AAAAAAAAM7k/1NT1qZie-O0/s1600-h/revolutia-romana1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449492309211405522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6B8YfDE3NI/AAAAAAAAM7k/1NT1qZie-O0/s320/revolutia-romana1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In December last year 20 years since the Romanian "Revolution" were celebrated on many TV channels world wide. A French friend on my Facebook list asked me to tell him how living in a communist society was like. I started writing everything that was passing through my head, in a memory dance that was going faster and faster and so I ended up writing a lot. I split that in two parts. I'll post here the first part, since another friend of mine had suggested I did...It's my personal perception based on my personal experience, which I am sure is very similar to many...Here it goes...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I&lt;em&gt; haven’t been writing much about the communist times and the Revolution on my blogs because it seemed so vast and so hard to describe things to people so they can understand, or at least so they can get a vague impression of how things were…I’ve read many books of people who got the chance to write about their experiences in the communist prisons, and I think that should be a mandatory reading for everyone on this Earth. My grandfather was imprisoned in a communist jail. Fortunately only for two years… He was innocent of any crime of course, as most people killed or imprisoned by the communists who destroyed intellectuals and rich people, the most “dangerous” to their political regime. And to think that everything was decided by three people after World War II, slices of Europe being divided between them…people waiting for the Americans to come and free us, building a Resistance in the mountains…how ironic, a Romania who was pro-West and wanted to be democratic became communist and an Italy who wanted to become communist became a Christian-democratic country…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I should stop with the historical background that you already know, I’m sure, and which can be found in any history book…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“1984” by George Orwell? That was so close to what we had here in the ‘80s…of course he exaggerated things a bit to gain full impact on people, but that was pretty much how everything worked….”Animal farm?” Right to the point! "All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others." People should also read books by Alexander Soljenitin (“one day in the life of Ivan Denisovich” is one title, thin book as number of pages), Nicolae Steihardt – “Journal of Happiness” (that he wrote after his experience in the communist prisons) and so so many others…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I’ve heard many stories of what happened before I was born but I’ll talk about my personal experience. I was born October 1st 1972 and only when I was in the fifth grade I was told my maternal grandmother was Italian. I haven’t known that before even though it felt strange to hear her talk Italian and listen to Italian music and everything, passing it on to me…Because it was so dangerously “bourgeois”…for this kind of thing, or for being related to former rich people got many youngsters to be rejected from attending Universities in the ‘50s and ‘60s…and you definitely couldn’t leave the country with such a “breed”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents received permission to visit Italy in 1979 October, I had just started 1st grade and they left me with an aunt for one month. It was not allowed for entire families to leave, generally children had to be left behind so they can have a card against you if you chose to defect. Generally people used to recover their kids after one or two years, and even though my dad’s Italian uncle offered to help him if he had chosen to stay in Italy, my parents refused because of me. Now I think they should have chosen otherwise, even though I still can remember how hard it was without them for a month…By the way, my Italian grandmother was not allowed to visit Italy until 1965, after World War II.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the 80s life became hard. Food was rationalized: for a family of three (which was us) we were allowed to have:&lt;br /&gt;- 2 liters of milk/week&lt;br /&gt;- 1+1/2 liters of sunflower seeds/month&lt;br /&gt;- 150g butter/month (which was really watery)&lt;br /&gt;- half of loaf of bread/person per day (which was sour, so sometimes we made bread if we could find flour)&lt;br /&gt;and some other things I can’t remember. They used to “bring” other “goodies” like meat, chicken, cheese, oil, flour, candies, oranges (around Christmas – btw, they had made that tradition communist too, since religion was forbidden and changed Santa’s name in “The Old Frost”) and when that happened there were huge queues, and even then they were forced to rationalize it per person so more people can get some…that’s why you could often see grown ups (neighbours) offering kids in my block some money so they can go queue so they can buy more goodies…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s why black market was flourishing…you had to know someone working at the dairy factory etc…they use to steal and sell products…You even had to know someone working in a books store or a stationary store…or in a pharmacy…sometimes you couldn’t even find toothpaste or toilet paper…not to mention tampons by the way…cotton wool was just fine (that’s a sordid detail, but you have to be fully aware of things)….You could always find cans with salted fish, olives and lemon juice, bad chocolate (which I swear I’d love to eat now, as Proust’s Madeleine)….Clothes…whew…horrible, so then you needed to know someone who used to sail for a living because they used to sell coffee, jeans and all kind of other “rotten” western goodies…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Electricity cuts…oh yeah…the whole night (from midnight to 5am) and two hours every day, one day from 4pm to 6pm, and one day from 5pm to 7pm, or more…so I used to write homework at oil lamp or candle light…I used to study in the afternoon (too many kids, the little ones – primary school- used to study in the morning, the others in the afternoon from 1pm to 4/5/6pm…at high-school even 7pm – actually this is still how it’s still done here) so during power cuts in winter we had to have torch lights…and usually we used to write with gloves on many times in winter because the heating was absent…Heating was also absent from our apartments…have you seen people so desperate that their kid is freezing in the house in the dark (that was me) that they lit a fire in some pot in the middle of the living-room so that the kid can warm her hands?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a happy kid though, we all were…we used to read so much since there were 2hTV a day (the latest years 3hours), from 8pm to 10pm, and then from 7pm to 10pm – of which one hour was represented by the news about our dear president and our country’s accomplishments in agriculture…All kids used to watch the news because after the news there were 10 minutes of cartoons. 10 minutes!:) And on Sunday we used to have an afternoon TV programme, but the feast was at New Year’s Eve, TV programmes all night long…They used to broadcast movies too…yeah…like Korean, or Russian or Romanian (propaganda)…sometimes we were lucky to get an American music hall or even a western movie (from the wild wild west! Wooooow! In the cinemas the offer was wider…American comedies, Indian movies too, Japanese (the 7 samurai – gosh, I must have watched it so many times!), Elvis Presley’s movies…Thank God for living in a harbour city and thank God for video players…We used to go watch movies in people’s houses who had one…sometimes in strangers’ houses paying a fee like at the cinema…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK,. I only want to write about one more thing…school and working as an agricultural worker every year for 3 weeks…and then about where I was at the revolution and what I felt…hopefully that will be shorter….Now I need to go get that bath because they might take away hot water at midnight or earlier…yeah…I live in a neighbourhood where that happens on regular basis because of the still old structure…But I am thankful, in communist times we had hot water a few times a week…for a few hours…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tell me if this is boring, I'll continue writing after my bath&lt;/em&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/6713339861429113500-1953194877944597732?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/1953194877944597732/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=1953194877944597732' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/1953194877944597732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/1953194877944597732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/03/communist-times-personal-experience.html' title='Communist Times - a personal experience'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S6B8YfDE3NI/AAAAAAAAM7k/1NT1qZie-O0/s72-c/revolutia-romana1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-9172696941645884105</id><published>2010-03-13T15:44:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T16:11:40.892+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coco chanel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friday fill-in'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='autobiographies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gal friday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bigraphies'/><title type='text'>Friday Fill-Ins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S5uXa1c61BI/AAAAAAAAM7E/6vmcGED0ik8/s1600-h/coco.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448114661515514898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 206px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S5uXa1c61BI/AAAAAAAAM7E/6vmcGED0ik8/s320/coco.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reading some entries posted by old blogging friend Gal Friday (&lt;a href="http://hotkerfuffle.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://hotkerfuffle.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;) I've realised how much I've missed blogging in the first place. My account on Multiply is still on, but I haven't used it either, it seems that great connection people had on Yahoo 360 is hard to be found again...Anyway, she has always had these lovely "Friday Fill-Ins", so I've decided to fill in one, even though it's not Friday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm illustrating this entry with the photo of a cover book I've ben meaning to buy and read ever since Christmas, even though the list of books bought waiting to be read is quite long (not enough time or energy, so I need more discipline on that). I started reading it last night and I love the style.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Autobriographies and memories have always interested me very much, especially when that public figure had been one of my favourites (see Chanel). Actually my degree thesis (which was a nightmare to document and write) was entitled: "Il Settecento, un nuovo modello umano: Vittorio Alfieri, Giacomo Casanova, Carlo Goldoni, Lorenzo da Ponte" (title suggested by my professor) and was based on the autobiographies/memoires of these 4 great men.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here it goes my Friday Fill-In:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. I am so looking forward to _____________read more of Chanel's biography, even though I don't think I'll have much time this saturday, but I'll have definitely more on Sunday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. "Enjoy yourself, it's _________ your only option!:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. When you get __________to a turning point, look both ways.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Friendship _____________ is a big part of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. "If you need anything ______________ I'm here."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to _____reading about CC and watch a movie, today my plans include _____visiting a musician friend to help him with some lyrics in English, and Sunday, I want to _____sleep late, hang around more on Facebook, read and take a walk by the sea if it's sunny and at least 5 degress centigrade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-9172696941645884105?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/9172696941645884105/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=9172696941645884105' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/9172696941645884105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/9172696941645884105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/03/friday-fill-ins.html' title='Friday Fill-Ins'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S5uXa1c61BI/AAAAAAAAM7E/6vmcGED0ik8/s72-c/coco.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-4209547070005361929</id><published>2010-03-10T20:38:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T20:45:49.957+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obsession'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight'/><title type='text'>Femminine obsession</title><content type='html'>No, I won't start making a list of all the femminine obsessions out there, I'll just talk about how I deal with the most common one, weight...According to standard measurements I'm right where I have to be right now...but this means 4 extra kilos which I didn't have before Christmas and which I have carefully and quite happily accumulated. Stress at work made me gain them, mostly, but that's not an excuse...And even though I consciously know that I look just fine and there are trully no reasons for me to panic, I don't feel comfortable, especially seeing myself in all those mirrors while I'm attending my ballet training...and they're on my mind when I get dressed, when I have a shower, a bath, when I change clothes, while working on the street, all the time! I need to lose them, and that means finding the right frame of mind for doing it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women! tz tz tz!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-4209547070005361929?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/4209547070005361929/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=4209547070005361929' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/4209547070005361929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/4209547070005361929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/03/femminine-obsession.html' title='Femminine obsession'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-5533975063715276953</id><published>2010-03-09T18:36:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T18:55:14.675+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='winter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nichita.stanescu'/><title type='text'>No rush</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S5Z6yv22CMI/AAAAAAAAM6o/T2Fc-kdUPgc/s1600-h/Picture+026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446675811609741506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S5Z6yv22CMI/AAAAAAAAM6o/T2Fc-kdUPgc/s320/Picture+026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Winter song , &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;by Nichita Stanescu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;You are so beautiful in winter! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;The field stretched on its back, near the horizon,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;and the trees stopped running from the winter wind ... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;My nostrils tremble&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;and no scent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;and no breeze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;only the distant, icy smell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;of the suns. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;How transparent your hands are in winter! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;And no one passes -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;only the white suns revolve in quiet worship. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;and the thought spreads in circles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;ringing the trees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;in twos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;in fours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;From the book "Bas-Relief with Heroes"english translation by Thomas Carlson and Vasile Poenaru. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've posted this poem because winter is back and I've remembered it from a past life. The snap is the Black Sea sometime in February when we had really low temperatures...One of those terrible cold days I chose to walk back from work for about 4 kilometers in the snow, through a park and the silence there should be enough for yet some time. It's only the "snow of the lambs", this snow in March, as the elderly say...This year I've got no rush to breathe spring. Winter's good. &lt;div&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/6713339861429113500-5533975063715276953?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/5533975063715276953/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=5533975063715276953' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5533975063715276953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5533975063715276953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/03/winter-song-by-nichita-stanescu-you-are.html' title='No rush'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S5Z6yv22CMI/AAAAAAAAM6o/T2Fc-kdUPgc/s72-c/Picture+026.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6670676042622441519</id><published>2010-03-06T17:41:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T17:53:35.541+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='maia.plisetskaya'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ballet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='swan'/><title type='text'>When swans die like Phoenix birds</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S5J37NGxw9I/AAAAAAAAM6M/qI76lZJC_HM/s1600-h/maiaplsy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445546758458426322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 336px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S5J37NGxw9I/AAAAAAAAM6M/qI76lZJC_HM/s400/maiaplsy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started ballet training on Wednesday evening after almost one year pause...Better late than never, that's what my 4 extra kilos and I think. My muscles agree, sore as they can be right now but happy...and I've started watching some of my favourite ballet videos on Youtube...Maybe the most well-known piece ever is The Dying Swan, by Camille Saint-Saens, from the Carnival of Animals.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ive always adored this piece, ever since I was little. It's so condensed, pure and unique...It tells a whole story in just a few minutes...I'm sorry Ana Pavlova's swan is altered by the way they used to film back in the age of "mute" motion pictures, but fortunately another Russian ballerina brought her personal approach to this piece, one I consider the best ballerina ever, Maia Plisetskaya. She danced almost her entire existence and I found this piece from when she was 61 years old! I find it so extraordinarly, I've heard she performed this piece for her 70 years old birthday in a gala they dedicated to her!!!! Here's the video of her performance at 61:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Luz5g-doa34&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/Luz5g-doa34&amp;hl=en_US&amp;fs=1&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;br /&gt;Now when I listen to this piece with extreme pleasure, remembering sunny London back in 2007 and a cello player performing it every day, incessantly, by the Thames, smiling at fugitive long lost memories...:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-6670676042622441519?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6670676042622441519/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6670676042622441519' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6670676042622441519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6670676042622441519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2010/03/when-swans-die-like-phoenix-birds.html' title='When swans die like Phoenix birds'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/S5J37NGxw9I/AAAAAAAAM6M/qI76lZJC_HM/s72-c/maiaplsy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6281156249940907538</id><published>2009-02-12T23:18:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T23:44:15.603+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='valentine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>Valentine, by Carol Ann Duffy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SZSTrtxvywI/AAAAAAAAIsw/q6f9dd7UR60/s1600-h/onion2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302025040553822978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SZSTrtxvywI/AAAAAAAAIsw/q6f9dd7UR60/s320/onion2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Not a red rose or a satin heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I give you an onion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It promises light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;like the careful undressing of love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It will blind you with tears &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;like a lover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It will make your reflection&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;a wobbling photo of grief.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am trying to be truthful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Not a cute card or a kissogram.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I give you an onion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;possessive and faithful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;as we are,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;for as long as we are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Take it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;if you like.Lethal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Its scent will cling to your fingers,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;cling to your knife. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I've never celebrated Valentine's, maybe because it's not an old Romanian tradition and because all the commercial part makes me sick...and also maybe because I've never felt that the person I was with deserved that kind of celebration. The idea of celebrating love is so wonderful that I've always felt I'd be untrue to it if I treated it conveniently, and superficially, that it will turn out to be some kind of...Christmas. This year I'll spend it by myself, and I am wondering...even if the person I'm seeing would be in town...would I want to give him a present as a symbol for Valentine? And the simple mere thought of it makes me feel good. Doubt is good, doubt is the doorway to every possible path, it questions things and questions are a child's toy while growing up, and as long as there are questions there will always be answers. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I've always liked this poem, it's truthful. It's an open answer, and an open question. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Well, Happy Valentine's to all whom will happen to read this little post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&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/6713339861429113500-6281156249940907538?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6281156249940907538/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6281156249940907538' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6281156249940907538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6281156249940907538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentine-by-carol-ann-duffy.html' title='Valentine, by Carol Ann Duffy'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SZSTrtxvywI/AAAAAAAAIsw/q6f9dd7UR60/s72-c/onion2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-8755180299944144739</id><published>2009-02-08T11:22:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T11:33:38.902+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paper dress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fashion'/><title type='text'>Would you wear these?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SY6m2GiBfLI/AAAAAAAAIsQ/6ffJmqwUEdY/s1600-h/Picture+057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300357259858115762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SY6m2GiBfLI/AAAAAAAAIsQ/6ffJmqwUEdY/s320/Picture+057.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SY6m2EzO-mI/AAAAAAAAIsI/eDnPk6he1rg/s1600-h/Picture+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300357259393432162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SY6m2EzO-mI/AAAAAAAAIsI/eDnPk6he1rg/s320/Picture+055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SY6m18DZZPI/AAAAAAAAIsA/TMQMD7UdR4M/s1600-h/Picture+054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300357257045304562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SY6m18DZZPI/AAAAAAAAIsA/TMQMD7UdR4M/s320/Picture+054.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SY6m1kRtB9I/AAAAAAAAIr4/rZEdMDf4OfU/s1600-h/Picture+053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300357250662860754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SY6m1kRtB9I/AAAAAAAAIr4/rZEdMDf4OfU/s320/Picture+053.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SY6mUm4IguI/AAAAAAAAIrw/R0Ao1Uw-EFg/s1600-h/Picture+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300356684425233122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SY6mUm4IguI/AAAAAAAAIrw/R0Ao1Uw-EFg/s320/Picture+052.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wouldn't it be nice not to spend any money on clothes and make some paper ones every day?;) I saw these in the windows on the Architecture Faculty in Bucharest and loved them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/6713339861429113500-8755180299944144739?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/8755180299944144739/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=8755180299944144739' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8755180299944144739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8755180299944144739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2009/02/would-you-wear-these.html' title='Would you wear these?'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SY6m2GiBfLI/AAAAAAAAIsQ/6ffJmqwUEdY/s72-c/Picture+057.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6676254801943044190</id><published>2009-01-26T07:56:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T08:07:42.315+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tag'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><title type='text'>When tagging is oh so nice...:)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SX1Rug-DeTI/AAAAAAAAIrQ/VZKuGuLy3Mw/s1600-h/Picture+1162.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295478596423612722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SX1Rug-DeTI/AAAAAAAAIrQ/VZKuGuLy3Mw/s320/Picture+1162.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good morning! I discovered this morning I was tagged by my friend Tina (&lt;a href="http://hotkerfuffle.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://hotkerfuffle.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;) and it's an easy one so I'll gladly do it!:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is what you have to do:&lt;br /&gt;1. Go to the the 4th folder where you keep your pictures on your computer.&lt;br /&gt;2. Post the 4th picture in the folder.&lt;br /&gt;3. Explain the photo.&lt;br /&gt;4. Tag 4 fellow bloggers to join in the fun. (Lusy, Claudia, Arty, Viv)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;My fourth photo from my fourth folder (the first ones start with numbers so they're not alphabetically ordered for this reason by the computer, this one is named 8C) was taken last June at my ex class Prom, and it's of four girls (now that's a cool coincidence!;)) chatting at their table: Anca, Oana, Adela and Iulia.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I loved that class so very much and the Prom was so much fun for all of us...We partied till dawn!:)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have to go and get ready for school now. This was so much fun to do!:)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-6676254801943044190?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6676254801943044190/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6676254801943044190' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6676254801943044190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6676254801943044190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2009/01/when-tagging-is-oh-so-nice.html' title='When tagging is oh so nice...:)'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SX1Rug-DeTI/AAAAAAAAIrQ/VZKuGuLy3Mw/s72-c/Picture+1162.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-8374259562952651074</id><published>2009-01-18T16:29:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T23:52:23.355+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='go on'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hibernation'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SXM9UdYrciI/AAAAAAAAIqg/6Qa-kXJqcq0/s1600-h/Picture+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292641408785281570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SXM9UdYrciI/AAAAAAAAIqg/6Qa-kXJqcq0/s320/Picture+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; That's me today, while taking a walk on the beach...Oh yes, I am still around, trying to get out of the hibernation I've been taking refuge in lately...Busy days/weeks/months, mind and soul narrowing towards new horizons/limits...but always feeling the nostalgia of blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be long and boring telling you what I have been up to these months since I haven't written one word in here...and beside the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward to my one week break in two weeks' time and looking forward to start finally focusing on my person and my person only, to start investing into the one true thing I've uniquely had for some years now, me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-8374259562952651074?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/8374259562952651074/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=8374259562952651074' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8374259562952651074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8374259562952651074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2009/01/thats-me-today-while-taking-walk-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SXM9UdYrciI/AAAAAAAAIqg/6Qa-kXJqcq0/s72-c/Picture+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-1258107488698165238</id><published>2008-12-10T21:41:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T21:45:43.676+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm going to be an AUNTIE!</title><content type='html'>I'm still under shock, but hey! One gets to be an aunt for the first time just once, right! My cousin just called me, he/she will see the light of our world sometime in August, a Leo that is! Great sign! Oh well, I'm just happy!:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-1258107488698165238?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/1258107488698165238/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=1258107488698165238' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/1258107488698165238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/1258107488698165238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/12/im-going-to-be-auntie.html' title='I&apos;m going to be an AUNTIE!'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-5633203632715933152</id><published>2008-11-22T10:21:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T10:35:01.106+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flickr'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='survey'/><title type='text'>My Flickr Almost Mosaic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SSfBZ_lXRzI/AAAAAAAAGtA/UdpKNioEXBE/s1600-h/mosaic5252004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271394541169493810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SSfBZ_lXRzI/AAAAAAAAGtA/UdpKNioEXBE/s320/mosaic5252004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I saw this on my friend Tina's blog and loved the idea very much. Unfortunately the last photo (which is mine) doesn't show up even though my Flickr settings allows people to see my photos...Well, I'll just post it at the end of this entry. But how does it work?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You answer 12 questions, and then use those answers to search Flickr.&lt;br /&gt;1. You have to type your answer to each of the 12 questions listed below into &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=&amp;amp;w=all&amp;amp;s=int"&gt;Flickr Search&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;2. Then, using only the first page of search results, pick one image.&lt;br /&gt;3. Copy &amp;amp; paste the URL for each image into &lt;a href="http://www.bighugelabs.com/flickr/mosaic.php"&gt;this cool mosaic maker &lt;/a&gt;(after adjusting it to make sure there are 12 squares).&lt;br /&gt;4. You then put the photos you get as search results into a mosaic, that while are not your images (I have the credits listed for the talented photographers in a list below, as well), but kind of describe you and your life in a visual feast of a photo collage (mosaic).&lt;br /&gt;1. What is your first name? (Patricia)&lt;br /&gt;2. What is your favorite food? (grapes)&lt;br /&gt;3. What high school did you go to? (Liceul George Calinescu, Constanta, but I had to search for Constanta cause there were no results for my high school)&lt;br /&gt;4. What is your favorite color? (green)&lt;br /&gt;5. Who is your celebrity crush? (Johnny Depp)&lt;br /&gt;6. Favorite drink? (wine)&lt;br /&gt;7. Dream vacation? (Peru)&lt;br /&gt;8. Favorite dessert? (creme brulee)&lt;br /&gt;9. What did you want to be when you grew up? (theatre actress)&lt;br /&gt;10. What do you love most in life? (peace)&lt;br /&gt;11. One word to describe you. (intuitive)&lt;br /&gt;12. Your own photo on Flikr. (it's a photo of a small ship I took here in Constanta)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are the titles of the photos I chose: &lt;/div&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gastronauten/255031193/"&gt;Eyes of an Angel...&lt;/a&gt;, 2. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/papaquijote/2281959285/"&gt;seasons&lt;/a&gt;, 3. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/livia-roxana/2645901694/"&gt;the wind&lt;/a&gt;, 4. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petervanallen/2380903904/"&gt;green spar&lt;/a&gt;, 5. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/albandri_qtr/174174086/"&gt;+[ Johnny Depp: drop dead gorgeous ]+&lt;/a&gt;, 6. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/corradogiulietti/225950321/"&gt;Acquarello&lt;/a&gt;, 7. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wili/2090459727/"&gt;Caracara takes off&lt;/a&gt;, 8. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/baostar/2238364952/"&gt;day 58: creme brulee&lt;/a&gt;, 9. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/libbadibbado/1587585303/"&gt;phantom of the opera&lt;/a&gt;, 10. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jeff-bauche/2230236391/"&gt;Wall Of Peace&lt;/a&gt;, 11. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lesec/461374724/"&gt;E y e l a s h *&lt;/a&gt;, 12. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/pati72/2322585344/"&gt;Ships in Constanta&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And this is the photo which does not show:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271397385979770866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SSfD_lU_N_I/AAAAAAAAGtI/83G5WhV8tgE/s320/Picture+359.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-5633203632715933152?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/5633203632715933152/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=5633203632715933152' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5633203632715933152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5633203632715933152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-flickr-almost-mosaic.html' title='My Flickr Almost Mosaic'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SSfBZ_lXRzI/AAAAAAAAGtA/UdpKNioEXBE/s72-c/mosaic5252004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-442070810742503627</id><published>2008-11-11T13:10:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T23:54:23.573+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-442070810742503627?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/442070810742503627/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=442070810742503627' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/442070810742503627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/442070810742503627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/11/harry-will-be-here-shortlywicked.html' title=''/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6510882802401637018</id><published>2008-11-06T21:53:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T21:59:58.784+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pionier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romania'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memory'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='communist.era'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Why I hate politics...a memory.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SRNLzyPIw1I/AAAAAAAAGrQ/wvI0IrLKA6A/s1600-h/pionier.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265635742356915026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SRNLzyPIw1I/AAAAAAAAGrQ/wvI0IrLKA6A/s320/pionier.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Dear dear reader, this is a photo I want to share since I was 8, a great day for any kid of a communist Romania...we were promoted to the title of Pioneers of the country...from the previous one in kindergarten...called the Falcons of the country...Now we were about to be offered the red scarf and become little communists, so proud of this title...The ceremony of investiture was a big deal for all of us, especially because not all the kids in my class were included in the first wave...You had to have high marks and prove yourself to be included in the first wave...So you can realize what a big deal this thing was...and the event was scheduled to take place on a really big ship (because a dad was a marine officer, of course)...I remember a few things about that day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all how much I hated my white stockings...I was itching every second...how much I hated my long skirt and the belt...which was too loose...and how I was wondering when the elder kids would stop singing that stupid song that went like this...”I have my scarf/ I'm a pioneer (x2)/ It's flauting in the wind, as pledge of our promise/ My first promise as a pioneer...”etc, etc...and also...”Ta-ra-ta-taaaaaaaa, the trumpets called! Ta-ra-ta-taaaaaaaaaa, and in one voice we saaaaaaang! We thank the party from the bottom of our hearts!...etc...etc...(I can't remember that one very well)...but I can remember that I thought the party was a person or something...The really cool thing was visiting that huge ship, eating cookies and drinking something that was so very rare...Pepsi!, none of them offered by that Party guy, but by our parents... Oh, and taking pictures...Then in class I became a “row commander”, one of the three, subordinated to the “class commander” who was subordinated to the “brigade commander” and I was wearing a red braid...etc etc etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess I'm not being totally honest when I say I've never been involved in politics because I have been...since that day...;)...and have hated it all the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and...in the photo...I am the one on the left. And this is a repost, I wrote this on Janusry 20, 2007. I guess I'll repost things every once in a while...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-6510882802401637018?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6510882802401637018/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6510882802401637018' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6510882802401637018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6510882802401637018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-i-hate-politicsa-memory.html' title='Why I hate politics...a memory.'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SRNLzyPIw1I/AAAAAAAAGrQ/wvI0IrLKA6A/s72-c/pionier.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-7480639059984223267</id><published>2008-11-05T18:41:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T19:18:57.629+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='colleague'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='talking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Liar liar!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SRHNbFV2u_I/AAAAAAAAGrI/HBFjHgmKgbI/s1600-h/LiarLiar7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265215304546827250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SRHNbFV2u_I/AAAAAAAAGrI/HBFjHgmKgbI/s320/LiarLiar7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I am really tactful when I talk to people, I am. I get my message through, no matter what that is, in the softer possible ways. Only when "soft" is not appreciated and it doesn't really work I become more...how should I put it?...sharp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's the question of being honest in the process and I admit sometimes I'm forced to "veil" it in such a way that my "receptor" shouldn't feel embrassed or worst. I do care a great deal about it, especially when the issues are so small that the whole truth is not really necessary. I spare you the examples, you know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we have a new colleague who teaches Maths, she's really nice and everything. Actually she is the definition of nice which is a high quality in a colleague. But she talks soooooo much and sooooo loud that my 10 minutes break become harder than the actual class sometimes. I smoke, it's a bad habit, I know, so smokers (teacher who smoke) have a little private room where we can poison ourselves without the knowledge of children etc...She is a smoker too, so we're stuck with her. During our break we have coffee and cigarette and we exchange opinions on different matters or we just chat...but on things that really interest us...or we just make jokes and laugh and relax in between classes....generally, speaking in a moderate tone of voice (since previously we'd have enough of LOUD children's voices).....and sometimes we just keep quiet, cause everyone has something on their minds or just because we don't feel like saying anything nor do we feel forced to make conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I understand that my new colleague can feel the need to be perhaps more talkative than normal because she's new in this school and maybe she feels really nervous about it. I don't know...Or maybe she's just too open that she feels the need to share every single detail of her life with us...Either way, I've come to know a lot of things about her and her boyfriend, her way of living and even though I appreaciate the confidence she's showing me/us I don't really want to know these things, not just yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she always interrupts the speaker...I mean, I hardly have the chance to finish my sentence because she's constantly interrupting me, being so eager to complete what I was going to say...Yesterday she came into our little room where another colleague and I were having coffee, she sat down, I was checking my mobile phone, my colleague was reading something so she just asked: "How come nobody's talking?" I couldn't stand it anymore so I said: "We were waiting for you!" thinking that she'd be aware of the meaning of my exclamation. She didn't seem to. So today, while having a conversation with her about her native town, I said: "I should have known you're from C!". She asked in marvel: "Really? How come?" "Cause you just talk so much!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then it happened: she kept silent for 5 whole seconds! It was bliss! Then she apologised, she said she knew she had this problem but that it's just because of her profession. Well excuse me, I'm a teacher too and she's about my age!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...I felt bad about the whole thing and just needed to write it down, get it off my chest...Whew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6713339861429113500-7480639059984223267?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/7480639059984223267/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=7480639059984223267' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7480639059984223267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7480639059984223267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/11/liar-liar.html' title='Liar liar!'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SRHNbFV2u_I/AAAAAAAAGrI/HBFjHgmKgbI/s72-c/LiarLiar7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-3960077208853322465</id><published>2008-11-03T19:46:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T19:55:26.397+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nichita stanescu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>When just a poem does the trick...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Ships in Constanta by Pati 72, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/pati72/2322585344/"&gt;&lt;img height="500" alt="Ships in Constanta" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2288/2322585344_78fc46acd3.jpg" width="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nichita Stãnescu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The golden age of love &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;My hands are in love,alas, &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;my mouth loves -&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;and see, I am suddenly aware&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;that things are so close to me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I can hardly walk among them&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;without suffering. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;It is a sweet feeling&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;of waking, of dreaming,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;and I am here now, without sleep -&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I clearly see the ivory gods,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I take them in my hands and&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;thrust them, laughing, in the moon&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;up to their sculpted hilts -&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;the wheel of an ancient ship, adorned&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;and spun by sailors.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Jupiter is yellow, Hera&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;the magnificent shades to silver. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I strike the wheel with my left hand and it moves.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;It is a dance of sentiments, my love,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;many a goddess of the air, between the two of us. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And I, the sail of my soul&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;billowed with longing,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;look for you everywhere,and things come&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;ever closer,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;crowding my chest, hurting me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-3960077208853322465?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/3960077208853322465/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=3960077208853322465' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/3960077208853322465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/3960077208853322465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/11/when-jsut-poem-does-trick.html' title='When just a poem does the trick...'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2288/2322585344_78fc46acd3_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-8927887417512759725</id><published>2008-11-02T17:51:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T17:52:40.751+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey hey</title><content type='html'>Still around, I just can't seem to have something to post. "I'll be back!";)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-8927887417512759725?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/8927887417512759725/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=8927887417512759725' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8927887417512759725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8927887417512759725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/11/hey-hey.html' title='Hey hey'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-5818673296232774699</id><published>2008-10-25T16:35:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T16:40:00.690+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogthings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quiz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='name'/><title type='text'>Take a random quiz...</title><content type='html'>...they say and here's what they offered. Ha ha ha! It surely made me laugh, especially the "all mine" and the "cheeky monkey"...It's cold and windy otside, I should go out in a little while but I'd rather not...Perfect weather for quizes though!:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#EEEEEE" align=center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What Patricia Means&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/whatsyourpetnamequiz/pet.gif" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P is for Pookie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A is for All Mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T is for Tator Tot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R is for Rabbit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I is for Incandescent Eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C is for Cheeky Monkey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I is for Itchy Lips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A is for All Mine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourpetnamequiz/"&gt;What's Your Pet Name?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-5818673296232774699?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/5818673296232774699/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=5818673296232774699' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5818673296232774699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5818673296232774699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/10/take-random-quiz.html' title='Take a random quiz...'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6113239421798448331</id><published>2008-10-22T23:55:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T10:13:25.315+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bucharest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weekend'/><title type='text'>Briefly about my week-end</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SP-Yz8MmMnI/AAAAAAAAGpM/PAg6p5Ewcew/s1600-h/Picture+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SP-Tbks7dMI/AAAAAAAAGo0/D66wBoX2yZ4/s1600-h/Picture+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260084991709902018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SP-Tbks7dMI/AAAAAAAAGo0/D66wBoX2yZ4/s320/Picture+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's midnight, I've caught a cold again, just got home from a nice coffee&amp;amp;chat with friends but I wanted to write a post here because my keyboard (and occasionally my mouse) have been constantly playing tricks on me for the last two days and because I really don't know when I can get the time to deal with it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last Saturday I went to Bucharest to see the Russian ballet gala which was really soul food for me; a feast for my eyes, ears and soul. Trully. I was supposed to leave on Friday afternoon so my best friend and I could enjoy an entire week-end of watching movies, taking walks and....well, chatting. The ticket to the show was her gift for my birthday. But she was really busy, she works in advertising so I left on Saturday afternoon instead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We drove directly to the theatre, watched the show, bought some take away food since both of us were too tired to be able to sit properly in a restaurant and had a gin and tonic which put us both to sleep in a blink of an eye.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Sunday she went to the office. It was supposed to be for one hour so I waited for her, instead of going for a walk as I had planned to do. I met her in the city a bit later and practically accompanied her to some places she needed to go. But in between I was happy to be able to steal a whole hour to have a really nice walk in the center, near the university where I studied...Sun up in the sky, really warm and quiet, people walking with no rush whatsoever....I entered a bookshop, bought some books and felt deliciously happy. I love the center of Bucharest, I love it because there are so many things to do and see and I never get tired of them every time I go there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I even had the chance to take a glimpse of a fair...some sort of Romanian traditions fair and there were a lot of crafts represented there...I bought sweets of course, grabbed a take away coffee and then we drove back to Constanta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately the batteries of my camera were nearly dead so....no photos...I took just a few shots, like the church above, known in Bucharest by the name of Cretulescu, then a snapshot of the Revolution Square and then I tried to photograph my university but with bad results. I'll just post them anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope to do this again soon, my friend really wishes she can be free next time I come to Bucharest. We've heard Sting will be in Bucharest February, 10. THAT I have to witness! I adore Sting and I really must go, even though it's a Tuesday, but who cares about work when Sting comes to Romania? Right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260089448575809570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SP-Xe_0kOCI/AAAAAAAAGo8/lwoftcxDWNI/s320/Picture+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260090172950902706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SP-YJKVC97I/AAAAAAAAGpE/ZcoJceCvd-k/s320/Picture+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SP-Yz8MmMnI/AAAAAAAAGpM/PAg6p5Ewcew/s1600-h/Picture+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260090907891741298" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SP-Yz8MmMnI/AAAAAAAAGpM/PAg6p5Ewcew/s320/Picture+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-6113239421798448331?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6113239421798448331/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6113239421798448331' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6113239421798448331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6113239421798448331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/10/briefly-about-my-week-end.html' title='Briefly about my week-end'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SP-Tbks7dMI/AAAAAAAAGo0/D66wBoX2yZ4/s72-c/Picture+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-3237204424735121867</id><published>2008-10-20T20:53:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T21:40:41.668+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gala'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='carmen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ballet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='russian.dance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='russian'/><title type='text'>Enjoy some ballet videos</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://album.apropo.ro/index.php?tree=10&amp;amp;cst_id=24868"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://album.apropo.ro/media/1/storage/6/1/2/4/img_181370_24868.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't taken them, but they're from the same show, the "Russian Ballet Gala" with dancers from the Balsoi Theatre. It was marvelous, I really enjoyed myself so I didn't try to take pics or videos and risk to be thrown out. Luckily someone did risk it about two weeks ago in another city and posted them on Youtube so you can also see them...My keyboard and mouse are playing tricks on me so I'll write more the next few days. I hope a next weekend I'll be in Bucharest I'll have time to walk as much as I want, all around the places I like...Anyway, here are the videos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Russian Dance"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kx0zOFLIb5Q&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kx0zOFLIb5Q&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A moment from "Carmen", the quarrel betwen the gipsy women and the moment gets arrested. I wish she could have posted other moments...but I do understand why she couldn't! The show was part of the "Art against drugs" campain, but they do come every year in Romania...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yIl7acqMWZw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yIl7acqMWZw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" 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/6713339861429113500-3237204424735121867?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/3237204424735121867/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=3237204424735121867' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/3237204424735121867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/3237204424735121867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/10/enjoy-some-ballet-videos.html' title='Enjoy some ballet videos'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-916228170754948223</id><published>2008-10-18T09:30:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T09:33:06.742+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Away for....one day</title><content type='html'>:) I'll leave for Bucharest today, this evening at 8:30 there's the ballet gala my best friend bought me a ticket for as a birthday gift. I'll come back tomorrow night. I hope it will be a good show. See you when I come back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-916228170754948223?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/916228170754948223/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=916228170754948223' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/916228170754948223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/916228170754948223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/10/away-forone-day.html' title='Away for....one day'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-3203314026995608010</id><published>2008-10-15T22:02:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T22:13:15.093+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='days'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='week'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ranting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><title type='text'>This week...last week...next week?</title><content type='html'>It is quite amazing how time flies. I know, this is such a common place, but honestly this year has passed like no other. Maybe because I’ve had more work, same worries, same people in my life, more or less…I start every week well prepared for whatever the new week has to bring but then I find myself breathing on Wednesday evenings thinking it wasn’t that hard, and then it’s Friday morning (when I am usually the happiest, by the way, and when coffee tastes magical when I come here wrapped in my blanket) and then it’s the weekend with me thinking I’ve got so much to do this weekend, generally procrastinating about it till the last minute…oh well, I can still afford it…And oh boy, I can’t complain about being bored cause being a teacher is never boring, even though to some it must seem that way…but since kids grow up under my eyes, their little lives offer my little life so many reasons for excitement…in all respects…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was thinking just now…how could I define my weekdays?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Monday - uh oh the foreplay of deception&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tuesday - er...same old...nothing out of the ordinary...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wednesday - already? nah, that's too soon...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thursday - it's getting warmer all of a sudden...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Friday - perfect bliss...return to innocence...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Saturday - sun, cigarettes and serendipity...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sunday - how soft these pillows are...;)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Can you say I'm ranting? Really? Where did you get this from?;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-3203314026995608010?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/3203314026995608010/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=3203314026995608010' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/3203314026995608010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/3203314026995608010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-weeklast-weeknext-week.html' title='This week...last week...next week?'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6954749668041053960</id><published>2008-10-12T22:36:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T22:38:26.044+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><title type='text'>I should start taking my own advice...</title><content type='html'>...and some time real soon too...Last week my mother's best friend was so very upset over something someone had done and which had nothing to do with her but because that person was a relative of hers she felt guilty and at the same time humiliated by the whole thing. I was there when she told us the whole story and tried to make her feel better. All I said to her is that she shouldn't feel that way for something she didn't do, for someone else's attitude and actions because the only one getting hurt is her and her alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd really should start listening to my own piece of advice cause I'm the same way, blaming myself for things that I didn't do, for other's people behaviours that have nothing to do with who I am, but only with whom they are.&lt;br /&gt;Does this mean that I should stop caring or that simply I should learn to dettach myself in order to skip the hurting part? Either way, I'm on the good path I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I surely hope it's going to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-6954749668041053960?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6954749668041053960/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6954749668041053960' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6954749668041053960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6954749668041053960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-should-start-taking-my-own-advice.html' title='I should start taking my own advice...'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6299343596263283482</id><published>2008-10-12T19:52:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T19:58:05.402+03:00</updated><title type='text'>One of those days</title><content type='html'>I just wish sometimes I could just say "F__k you!" to a lot of people and not being able to express myself in that manner makes me angrier to almost everyone around. I'm just sick and tired of being nice and investing feelings in what I do, say etc only to find out it was not worth it...Oooooh, I know what the theory says....that only by being nice and true to yourself you're already repaid. That's such a load of crap. Whatever, I just feel frustrated and betrayed by me being me. When will I ever learn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the venting. Or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-6299343596263283482?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6299343596263283482/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6299343596263283482' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6299343596263283482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6299343596263283482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-of-those-days.html' title='One of those days'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-5236291481979191946</id><published>2008-10-08T18:26:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T18:38:38.662+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tv'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='digital'/><title type='text'>Digital...television, internet...phone?</title><content type='html'>I gave in. The TV cable company I've been subscribing for countless years kept calling me about switching to digital TV. My mind usually shivers in horror whenever I hear words related to technology etc....so I kept replying that I am perfectly, and when I say perfectly I mean perfectly (!) satisfied with my old version of the whole thing which I believe is called analogical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But...in the end I had to keep up with progress and now I'm about to open a magical box that carefully holds within another magical box that holds within unravelled secrets by the knowledge of which I am on the way of being able to watch over 100 TV channels etc...(I know you've been praying for an "etc" somewhere soon in the last sentence...;))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem is...I'm not quite sure I'll manage. They say it's just a piece of cake, probably chocolate also. And that anyone could do it. I surely hope so. I do have a contact phone number if I don't manage switching to digital. My guess is I'll be needing it but I just hope they're right and I'll soon be watching RAIUNO and HBO Comedy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fingers crossed?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-5236291481979191946?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/5236291481979191946/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=5236291481979191946' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5236291481979191946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5236291481979191946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/10/digitaltelevision-internetphone.html' title='Digital...television, internet...phone?'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-2364343400422647723</id><published>2008-10-07T23:44:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T00:15:39.291+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Oooh, sweet blogging!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SOvKhmY_N5I/AAAAAAAAGng/tb2u4JpQwm4/s1600-h/PhotoFunia+3+hi+hi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254516068847662994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SOvKhmY_N5I/AAAAAAAAGng/tb2u4JpQwm4/s320/PhotoFunia+3+hi+hi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hi, I'm Patricia and I still remember the golden days when I used to be a faithful blogger. Don't mind this pic, I was a bit blue last night and found this really cool site which can give you...unusual facets to your still-to-be-discovered personality and that put a bunch of smiles on my face before starting snorring into the dreamworld...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you remember why and how you started blogging in the first place? That's how I felt when I started writing here, since I had no idea what a blog was and since the only reason that I had for me writing here was that a link to my page existed on someone else's page...and the only content I had at the time was an avatar! I'm being pretty confusing, but it's late and I'm tired...:) So here's me when I started writing a blog entry (back in the yahoo360 golden age):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SOvM8em691I/AAAAAAAAGno/pN4IBGxEc-I/s1600-h/fun12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254518729638344530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SOvM8em691I/AAAAAAAAGno/pN4IBGxEc-I/s320/fun12.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I kept the personal side quite at a distance writing more about preferences I have...art, literature, movies, songs...Oh, yes...and I remember when I visited other people's blogs...ha ha ha!...I was like:"OMG, how do they post all this stuff in here?" referring to videos, photos and other little jewels like this...Those of you who have read this blog long enough know that I've confessed to being a computer illiterate! But slowly I got there! Try this to feel how I felt at my first attempts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed align="middle" src="http://stuff.pyzam.com/toys/nopress.swf?winvar=" width="300" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but then some difficult months dropped by in my life, uninvited and so terrible that I don't want to remember them anymore and so I started letting it all out here...In the meantime I got rid of me being shy and I started adding friends or accepting friends' requests...and so...I discovered some amazing people...who actually cared! And then I realised what my/our kind of blogging was all about...I could talk about virtually anything with people and get a feed-back, maybe be more open and frank than in real life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I had to move to Multiply because of all the technical difficulties on yahoo360 and somehow I've lost the blogging apetite on the way...Plus there were some major disappointments in matter of online friends...who knows, I might switch back some day, but for now I enjoy being almost anonymous in here. I thought about starting writing my blog as a journal as I used to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This school year is kind of difficult, I'm exhausted almost every day but I should just start writing about my days in here, without thinking I might bore people to death...I think I should start thinking about me and what I like to do and write, I haven't done it in a long time....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night! it's still a long way till the week-end!:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiles and kisses,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="VISIBILITY: hidden; WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 0px" height="0" src="http://stuff.pyzam.com/misc/CXNID=1000015.0NXC.gif" width="0" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img style="VISIBILITY: hidden; WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 0px" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.2NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyMjM*MTMyNTk1MTUmcHQ9MTIyMzQxMzI2NDgxMiZwPTM5MDEmZD1mbGFzaHRveXMmbj*mZz*xJnQ9Jm89Y2Q4MzFjZDM1MzI3NDRlYzg3NDg5NTI*YWMwODc5ZTU=.gif" width="0" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-2364343400422647723?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/2364343400422647723/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=2364343400422647723' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/2364343400422647723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/2364343400422647723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/10/oooh-sweet-blogging.html' title='Oooh, sweet blogging!'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SOvKhmY_N5I/AAAAAAAAGng/tb2u4JpQwm4/s72-c/PhotoFunia+3+hi+hi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-8770793948811529293</id><published>2008-10-04T13:49:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T14:03:01.785+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flowers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='garden'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='autumn'/><title type='text'>Sunny October week-end</title><content type='html'>Have you ever had that feeling when you wake up in the morning, not sure what day it is and wondering whether you're late or not for work...or some other mysterious activity? That's how I woke up this morning and when I remembered I had been invited for coffee to some relatives' new house I swear I didn't feel like going much, especially because it was such a foggy humid warm morning, after an amazing foggy night which seemed to have come out of some sort of a horror movie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm really glad I went cause I had the chance to see a beautiful tiny garden and relax with some quality chatting...plus it turns out their neighbours are some really old colleagues of mine with whom I went to a winter camp....about 10 years ago!:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's really sunny and hot outside, one could swear summertime is back on Romanian ground!:) Anyway, let me share with you some shots I took today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Weevil&amp;amp;green pepper flower by Pati 72, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9459932@N05/2911944014/"&gt;&lt;img height="375" alt="Weevil&amp;amp;green pepper flower" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3250/2911944014_bb0f86e195.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Weevil&amp;amp;green pepper flower&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Autumn flowers by Pati 72, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9459932@N05/2911097733/"&gt;&lt;img height="375" alt="Autumn flowers" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3004/2911097733_a6c376a3fe.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I loved these, I have no idea how they're called&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Orange flowers by Pati 72, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9459932@N05/2911943266/"&gt;&lt;img height="375" alt="Orange flowers" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3216/2911943266_862cd395d0.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I always forget the name of these flowers...:(&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Ice flower by Pati 72, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9459932@N05/2911942508/"&gt;&lt;img height="375" alt="Ice flower" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3088/2911942508_448c1d77a2.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I believe people in Romania call this the "ice flower"...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Garden windmill by Pati 72, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9459932@N05/2911946002/"&gt;&lt;img height="500" alt="Garden windmill" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3151/2911946002_3f6f695b1b.jpg" width="375" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Garden windmill with smilies...:)))))))))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a title="Coto the chaw chaw 1 by Pati 72, on Flickr" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/9459932@N05/2911941810/"&gt;&lt;img height="375" alt="Coto the chaw chaw 1" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3198/2911941810_16c621bf29.jpg" width="500" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Coto, the chaw chaw, la "piece du resistence"...;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I want a house with a gardeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen! God?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-8770793948811529293?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/8770793948811529293/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=8770793948811529293' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8770793948811529293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8770793948811529293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/10/sunny-october-week-end.html' title='Sunny October week-end'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3250/2911944014_bb0f86e195_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-1914347725262468366</id><published>2008-10-02T22:00:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T22:13:11.698+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homework'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><title type='text'>Teach! Teach! I've done my homework! (January 30, 2008)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SOUajxLtT6I/AAAAAAAAGnA/0ETCuWd7rLg/s1600-h/940b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252633742197739426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SOUajxLtT6I/AAAAAAAAGnA/0ETCuWd7rLg/s320/940b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; Fill in the blanks:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friendship - Write similies to describe what friendship is like&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship looks like....&lt;strong&gt;a tree. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship feels like....&lt;strong&gt;wood.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship tastes like....&lt;strong&gt;Merlot.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship sounds like...a&lt;strong&gt; piano playing.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friendship smells like....&lt;strong&gt;the sea. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favourite Things - Write what your favourite things are. In one sentence aim to be detailed and imaginative. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favourite taste is...&lt;strong&gt;bitter-sweet. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favourite sight is...&lt;strong&gt;the seaside. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favourite sound is...&lt;strong&gt;a river flowing. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favourite feeling is...&lt;strong&gt;love. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favourite smell is...&lt;strong&gt;floral perfume.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;About Me - Create an 'I' poem using this format&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My name is...&lt;strong&gt;Patricia. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of my friends call me...&lt;strong&gt;Pati. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am...&lt;strong&gt;who I am and it’s not the end of the world.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have...&lt;strong&gt;a cat, a car, many books, an attitude and I....will want always want to have more, I suppose. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like...&lt;strong&gt;the sea, the sun, my cat, my books, ballet, theatre, be unpredictable&lt;/strong&gt; but&lt;br /&gt;I dont like....&lt;strong&gt;lies, manipulative people and here the list could go on and on. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love ...&lt;strong&gt;sleeping, chatting with good friends, writing, kissing but &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont love...&lt;strong&gt;conventional conversations, even though it seems I’m really good at that… &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have...&lt;strong&gt;already written what I have&lt;/strong&gt;…&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe...&lt;strong&gt;in the “I can’t” sentence, even though I suspect I often use it when I want to turn smth down politely… but &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do believe....&lt;strong&gt;in the “I can try and do it” sentence and really mean it… &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to think....&lt;strong&gt;I am not worth very much but now &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think....&lt;strong&gt;quite the opposite. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favourite...&lt;strong&gt;past time is going out with friends, driving, be active but...if they’re not available I enjoy my solitude and really enjoy lazing around. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listen to...&lt;strong&gt;all kinds of music but not all the time. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watch...&lt;strong&gt;movies a lot, some TV, my cat playing but not endlessly. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read...&lt;strong&gt;books I think could interest me but I hate reading the newest best-sellers. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I eat...&lt;strong&gt;a lot when I’m hungry but nothing if I’m upset. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I say...&lt;strong&gt;things I mean but sometimes things I don’t mean. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am always...&lt;strong&gt;running late but &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am never...&lt;strong&gt;actually that late! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dream...&lt;strong&gt;to be in love again. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to...&lt;strong&gt;going to Venice next week-end. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope...&lt;strong&gt;I can live another 35 years. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am....&lt;strong&gt;so…me…that I can surprise myself all the time. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I.....&lt;strong&gt;need to prove myself so many things…still…&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-1914347725262468366?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/1914347725262468366/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=1914347725262468366' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/1914347725262468366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/1914347725262468366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/10/teach-teach-ive-done-my-homework.html' title='Teach! Teach! I&apos;ve done my homework! (January 30, 2008)'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SOUajxLtT6I/AAAAAAAAGnA/0ETCuWd7rLg/s72-c/940b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-7680843611158134535</id><published>2008-10-01T08:39:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T08:43:49.396+03:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>Today is such a sunny day...I know why...cause it's my birthday, of course!;) I feel really good this morning, reading the messages my friends have sent me for the occasion, I feel so loved...That's about it for today. *big grin*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I just noticed Blogger displayed this entry on September 30...well, today is October 1st!;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-7680843611158134535?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/7680843611158134535/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=7680843611158134535' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7680843611158134535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7680843611158134535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/blog-post.html' title=':)'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-541980046426102902</id><published>2008-09-29T19:57:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T20:42:05.855+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flu'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nose'/><title type='text'>My running nose and I salute you</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SOEJk7YQhLI/AAAAAAAAGmg/CBgYKRnChgs/s1600-h/running+nose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251489170510087346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SOEJk7YQhLI/AAAAAAAAGmg/CBgYKRnChgs/s320/running+nose.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We do, at least I do! I haven't quite caught my nose yet, it's so incredibly fast that could probably win the 100m race and make a fool out of the current champion, Mr. Usain Bolt! No matter, it will come back to me if I think of all the paracetamol and vitamin C I've been ingurgitating on daily basis ever since last Friday...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's annoying but not tragic...plus...a little bit of fever has always made me such a calm serene person...I do envy all the kids in school who get to stay home cause they're ill! I wish we'd have a system which could allow teachers to just phone the school to say "I'm taking today off cause I'm ill!" Theoretically it's possible and some people do it with a smile on their faces and with no apparent bug in their body either... In reality, there's no substitute teacher to come rescue your classes so you just go to school and teach. So what if I took some extra work this year and today I had 8 (eight!) classes? No sweat!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ha ha ha! Anyway, will see what tomorrow brings, at least now I can't pass the flu on since the famous 72 hours are gone. Important thing is I'm in good spirits and right after I watch a movie I'll come here again to do some more paper work for school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the meantime...if by any chance you get to meet my nose, please send it back home, I promise I'll be really nice to it. Really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-541980046426102902?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/541980046426102902/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=541980046426102902' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/541980046426102902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/541980046426102902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-running-nose-and-i-salute-you.html' title='My running nose and I salute you'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SOEJk7YQhLI/AAAAAAAAGmg/CBgYKRnChgs/s72-c/running+nose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-5975323575274538351</id><published>2008-09-26T22:55:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T23:27:40.418+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poster'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='european'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='languages'/><title type='text'>European Day of Languages</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250427412961109026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SN1D6gSFJCI/AAAAAAAAGmQ/1wQhZG0-rF0/s320/Picture+015.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SN0-zKqefCI/AAAAAAAAGmA/G90Xp67B8zA/s1600-h/Picture+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250421789340630050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SN0-zKqefCI/AAAAAAAAGmA/G90Xp67B8zA/s320/Picture+017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yes, I only found out the day before yesterday that such a day exists (since 2001) and that there is going to be some kind of a poster contest supervised by the modern languages teachers. I was a bit upset at first that I hadn't been notified in advance like other colleagues had been, but I think that in the two hours 5 kids and I took to create a poster we did a great job. We'd have liked to add some font colour or our fan but we didn't have any time left.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;European language diversity was supposed to be celebrated and the only "clue" that these kids study Italian was that we wrote the title in Italian. Then I looked on the internet for how people say "hello" in all European languages and that's what kids wrote on the little stars...The other posters were beautiful, but...different because they posted photos of wonderful monuments and such of the countries they study the language of and quite frankly that would have been much easier...we'd have printed some photos too for that matter...I loved this one on the right, made by the colleagues who teach German, also the "French" ones, similar to this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SN1COEsyr9I/AAAAAAAAGmI/8bMGZjvGI6w/s1600-h/Picture+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250425550131081170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SN1COEsyr9I/AAAAAAAAGmI/8bMGZjvGI6w/s320/Picture+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The important thing is kids had fun, I had fun and I needed it because I've got such busy days these days... They all won, of course, even though they were highly disappointed that no awards were given, I guess their little competitive sense is not so little anymore...:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The first photo was supposed to be posted at the bottom of the entry, but oh well, I still haven't got Blogger...It's a funny pic of me and 6th graders who made the poster. We were saying "formaaaaaggiooooo", "cheese" that is in Italian.:)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for blogging...I moved here because I like this format and because I know that the people I care for from my old blogs will come here to be updated about me...I'm done reposting, I only reposted a few entries from one "challenge" I used to participate in, "Writer's Block". I will probably miss "Picture Perfect", who knows? All the rest will stay on the old blogs, being rather personal, and my friends already read them anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this is a fresh new start in blogland. Cheers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6713339861429113500-5975323575274538351?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/5975323575274538351/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=5975323575274538351' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5975323575274538351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5975323575274538351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/european-day-of-languages.html' title='European Day of Languages'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SN1D6gSFJCI/AAAAAAAAGmQ/1wQhZG0-rF0/s72-c/Picture+015.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6264051856124649953</id><published>2008-09-25T20:39:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T20:43:04.288+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writer&apos;s.block'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='challenge.23'/><title type='text'>Roundabout (October 28, '07)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNvNIWjehmI/AAAAAAAAGl4/uv6lDCJAPtE/s1600-h/48d8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250015334007473762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNvNIWjehmI/AAAAAAAAGl4/uv6lDCJAPtE/s320/48d8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've been walking straight ahead&lt;br /&gt;passing by crossroads&lt;br /&gt;my own&lt;br /&gt;others'&lt;br /&gt;others' and my own...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crossing woods of words&lt;br /&gt;seas of whispers&lt;br /&gt;rivers of tears&lt;br /&gt;mountains of happiness&lt;br /&gt;and valleys of despair...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking my time,&lt;br /&gt;ignoring time,&lt;br /&gt;denying time to time itself&lt;br /&gt;and to creation...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking slowly&lt;br /&gt;and running fast&lt;br /&gt;towards...some place, some...&lt;br /&gt;place&lt;br /&gt;love&lt;br /&gt;towards...new crossroads.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm here.&lt;br /&gt;Out of the woods of words&lt;br /&gt;Out of the seas of whispers&lt;br /&gt;Out of the rivers of tears&lt;br /&gt;Down of the mountains of happiness&lt;br /&gt;Up from the valleys of despair...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to take a roundabout. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-6264051856124649953?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6264051856124649953/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6264051856124649953' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6264051856124649953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6264051856124649953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/roundabout-october-28-07.html' title='Roundabout (October 28, &apos;07)'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNvNIWjehmI/AAAAAAAAGl4/uv6lDCJAPtE/s72-c/48d8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-2260312658924857551</id><published>2008-09-24T20:46:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T20:55:15.796+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='words'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='survey'/><title type='text'>Welcome to my Wordland (October 4, 2007)</title><content type='html'>The survey my wonderful friend Tina has just posted gives me the possibility to talk about me and words, words and I...as you know, I teach languages and I work with words at all times...words are my daily bread and I am fully aware of how much power they can be endowed with...I remember having taken a PH-certified test about what is my best skill...and well...it tuned out to be linguistic...what a surprise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say I started to talk properly before I even walked and it seems like I only had only one twist of letters which I corrected quickly and which was pretty unusual...of course, we're talking about Romanian here so it will be a little harder to explain...I used to invert the "F" with an "S", rather unusual since these are two wholy different sounds...So instead of saying "cafea" (=coffee) I used to say "casea" and instead of saying "Ce faci?" (=how are you?) I was saying "Ce saci?"...Anyway, it seems that soon I loved to talk all of the time, I was unstoppable, but it seems like I only used to say words the meaning of which I already knew or it was deducible...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it seemed to me that foreign languages weren't that foreign and I chose to study those cause it was not a great effort at all...Then I started writing things, for myself, but never using meaningless words, just trying to respect them at all times...No form without meaning for me, it's too easy the other way around...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'd like to write more but before I'll get to bore you good people to death I'll just take this survey...my answers won't be that spectacular...first because I'll have to adapt them for English...and second, because there are so many words spinning around in my head all the time...sometimes mixing the languages...which is so funny and which is why my friends say that I'm like a TV aerial antenna reproducing foreign channels...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I watched a documentary once and they were saying that for each language that a person learns a new centre for speaking is developed by the brain and they proved it while operating on a lady's brain...and she was awake so they won't damage some important centres...That lady could speak English and Spanish and the moment they touched her speaking centre for Spanish and asked her a question in Spanish she answered in English that she couldn't understand that language...wow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also talk very fast but I keep that under surveillance (which is an effort) and some people might say that sometimes I talk very slow! It's just when I happen to be an interpreter...with the headphones on...you really have to be fast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, my survey answers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. What word (or expression) do you use far too frequently?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;In English it would be &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"just"...&lt;/span&gt;since I often tell people what I was "just" doing or...to soften things a bit I use expressions like...I "just" want to know..., I was "just" wondering, that's all...etc...etc...etc...Of course, being a word that I use too often, I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Italian I use too often &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"allora"&lt;/span&gt; and my friend Sonja knows what I'm talking about here...People just (!!!!) use it all the time when they start saying something, anything...ot when they just (again!) want to inquire about everything and nothing..."Allora?"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Romanian...is just... &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Ce faci?"&lt;/span&gt; (see translation above)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. What word do you use not frequently enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Ah, that's an easy one...I don't use frequently enough the expression... &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Sorry, can't help you"&lt;/span&gt; and sometimes I wished I would have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. What word do you use when swearing is not appropriate? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;When swearing is not appropriate I don't swear...I rarely do and most often...when I drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. What's the most recent new word you learned?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I'm not really aware of what exact word I've recently learnt...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. What's a word you've invented? (alternate question: What needs a word but doesn't have one?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;In Romanian when it's a hailstorm and there are all those little ice pieces around...we don't have a word for it...we say "It's raining with hailstones"...and because in Italian one can say it with one word ("Grandina") I say &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"grindineste"&lt;/span&gt; in Romanian and people always laugh at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. List five favorite words!:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;In English I love all those adverbials ending in a &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"-ly"....&lt;/span&gt;really really truthfully loving them, the sound of them...then...I like the word &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"marvel"/"marvelous",&lt;/span&gt; then&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;..."Supercalifragilisticespialidocious&lt;/span&gt;"...I totally adore this one...then..."&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;espresso"&lt;/span&gt; pronounced by the English speakers....well...I like all words, really...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-2260312658924857551?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/2260312658924857551/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=2260312658924857551' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/2260312658924857551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/2260312658924857551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/welcome-to-my-wordland-october-4-2007.html' title='Welcome to my Wordland (October 4, 2007)'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-1039230682615391446</id><published>2008-09-24T20:39:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T20:41:11.187+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heart'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>Shape of my heart (June 29, 07)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Shape of my heart...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart was wide open when I was born, like anyone else's&lt;br /&gt;It didn't want to beat at first, but the care and love of doctor and nurses made it work in a heartbeat&lt;br /&gt;And it stayed that way&lt;br /&gt;expanding and exploring new horizons&lt;br /&gt;'cause this is only natural for a heart to do.&lt;br /&gt;It had no shape.&lt;br /&gt;Or more likely its shape used to change...all the time...from butterfly to cloud&lt;br /&gt;to wind&lt;br /&gt;to fire&lt;br /&gt;to earth&lt;br /&gt;to all those small and great things around&lt;br /&gt;seeking love, demanding love,&lt;br /&gt;offering itself.&lt;br /&gt;Unselfishly.&lt;br /&gt;Then the natural course of life made it withdraw and close.&lt;br /&gt;Its twin heart stopped beating,&lt;br /&gt;'cause that's what hearts do when they're tired.&lt;br /&gt;They rest&lt;br /&gt;for eternity.&lt;br /&gt;My heartbeat carried on, took over,&lt;br /&gt;and my heart finally found a shape:&lt;br /&gt;a pond lily at sunset.&lt;br /&gt;And it was only a perpetual sunset my heart lived for.&lt;br /&gt;It occasionally reopened.&lt;br /&gt;Again and again...&lt;br /&gt;But being a pond lily was so convenient...&lt;br /&gt;And then it was aware that dawn had come for it too.&lt;br /&gt;It opened, streched and perfumed the morning air with its new passion.&lt;br /&gt;And then it expanded...all over...again...&lt;br /&gt;It had no shape again and yet it could take any shape...&lt;br /&gt;...any shape but the pond lily's...&lt;br /&gt;My heart has no shape.&lt;br /&gt;And it's scared&lt;br /&gt;of a new not wanted and not welcome sunset.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-1039230682615391446?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/1039230682615391446/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=1039230682615391446' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/1039230682615391446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/1039230682615391446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/shape-of-my-heart-june-29-07.html' title='Shape of my heart (June 29, 07)'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-3789508282842637926</id><published>2008-09-24T20:32:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T20:37:18.392+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>7 wishes for yesterday, today, tomorrow (July 7, '07)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Wish I didn't look back&lt;br /&gt;but I do.&lt;br /&gt;Wish I didn't have regrets,&lt;br /&gt;it's not fashionable.&lt;br /&gt;But I do.&lt;br /&gt;Wish I could love less&lt;br /&gt;but I can't.&lt;br /&gt;Wish life had been more fair to me&lt;br /&gt;but this is life.&lt;br /&gt;Wish I could take back things I said without meaning them,&lt;br /&gt;but they were said&lt;br /&gt;and sometimes we stumble into words.&lt;br /&gt;Wish I could fight less and surrender more&lt;br /&gt;but it's not easy to lose battles.&lt;br /&gt;Wish you were here.&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/6713339861429113500-3789508282842637926?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/3789508282842637926/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=3789508282842637926' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/3789508282842637926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/3789508282842637926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/7-wishes-for-yeasterday-today-tomorrow.html' title='7 wishes for yesterday, today, tomorrow (July 7, &apos;07)'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-7665249357932513517</id><published>2008-09-24T20:20:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T20:27:27.500+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shortstory'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='literary.challenge'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stormy.night'/><title type='text'>It was a dark and stormy night...a short short story (June 15, 2007)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNp3MSawSoI/AAAAAAAAGlw/6OqkSmYGOrs/s1600-h/stormy+night.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249639368639924866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNp3MSawSoI/AAAAAAAAGlw/6OqkSmYGOrs/s320/stormy+night.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alan challenged us for a little literary contest...and I love these little things...and I've come home from school, got a free hour and wrote this...The short story was supposed to start with "It was a dark and stormy night..." I'm sorry if my English is not as good as the native speakers', but it's only for fun! Here it is:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#336666;"&gt;It was a dark and stormy night...but only because the guys at the electrical company really had messed up, so they announced on the radio...Well, at least the storm wasn't their fault...so half of the frustration and impotence Alice was experiencing was all nature's playing tricks on her...Oh, yes, she could have bet her life on that one, she was thinking, while contemplating the new dress and shoes she was supposed to wear at her company's cocktail party that evening...an outdoor cocktail party...which got canceled irrevocably..."Damn this storm, I can't hear myself thinking"...She was really counting on this opportunity as she was going to approach the boss of all bosses and present her new idea of a project she had been working on for the last few weeks...and which didn't seem to appeal to her direct boss...so much like the one in that movie..."The office"...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had lit some candles and she was preparing to go to bed...at 9pm!...as she couldn't really stand all her thoughts roaring in her head, leaving blood stains on her tremendous ego...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently Buck, her friend's dog she had had in care for the last few days, wasn't of the same opinion...as he was desperately grating the entrance door in the obvious attempt of freeing himself...on every possible level, if you know what I mean...Only that Alice had no intention to get outside in the storm for a bear necessity she didn't have any understanding for..."I'll just let the dog out and I'll stand in front of the door while he finishes", she thought and she put on her raincoat over her silk orange bed gown. She unlocked the door, got out and watched the dog who was happily running in circles, without seeming to be really bothered by the rain, thunder and lightening show...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's really chilly and windy, I should go back inside now", she said to herself and turned back to the half-open door...only to watch it slam in her face!..."Damn it! Damn it!" she screamed while hitting in vain her forehead against the door...Needless to say...she didn't have the keys...and Buck...oh, well, was nowhere to be found...She got out in the rain, calling the dog and thinking she should go and ask some neighbours for help. She really didn't know anyone in that neighbourhood but she was sure someone would do something on a dark and stormy night for a young, attractive and obviously intelligent soaked woman...She was standing on the sidewalk cursing the storm, the perfect darkness, Buck, her boss, but mostly her towel orange slippers!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right at the moment she was thinking there is no God whatsoever a Rolls pulled over, the right back door opened and she heard a voice asking: "Is that you, Miss Carmichael? From the Marketing?"..."Er...yes, it's me...er...yeah...who...who's asking?" Useless to tell you, dear readers, it was the boss of all bosses...oh, well, the happy ending is near and then you can all sleep tight...she got invited in the car, she presented her project, a locksmith was sent for, the electricity came back, she was promoted at work, Buck was safely deposited in his owner's arms and house provided with an entrance door designed for dogs...And of course Alice changed her mind about dark and stormy nights...&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/6713339861429113500-7665249357932513517?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/7665249357932513517/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=7665249357932513517' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7665249357932513517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7665249357932513517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/it-was-dark-and-stormy-nighta-short.html' title='It was a dark and stormy night...a short short story (June 15, 2007)'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNp3MSawSoI/AAAAAAAAGlw/6OqkSmYGOrs/s72-c/stormy+night.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-7959278237222490504</id><published>2008-09-23T22:47:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T23:21:56.813+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='old.bucharest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cristian.vasile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zaraza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='song'/><title type='text'>Zaraza - a true sad crazy love story (June 27, 2007)</title><content type='html'>Are you comfortable? Come on, now, get cozy and forget about whatever important things you have to do for the next minutes...you'll get there anyhow and the sun will still be up even if you're late, the stars will still shine as any other night...there you are... listen to this story...hush now...and don't you dare touch that little plastic instrument called mouse...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time...well, it was more like 1944...in an Eastern european capital, Bucharest, people were having the blast of their lives, even among and under the most fierceful American bombardaments like they'd had for the last twenty years...From the Opera House to the most humble pub in the slums...Take a look...The song was aso very famous... My grandfather used to sing it sometimes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eetPJga68C8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eetPJga68C8&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food was cheap, hotels hospitable and summer restaurants were the main attraction with their jazz bands or the local folk bands...The clients were always happy to party, and very often you could see German officers accompanied by "luxury women"..."boneless women", as someone called them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of these women was Zaraza, precisely Zarada, a traditional gipsy name. It means The Wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story starts now, when this young woman enters The Red Fox, a restaurant on the Selari street, arm in arm with some insignificant man, part of a jolly bunch of people. She was indeed a gipsy, her face looked rough, her lips seemed those of a sensual man and her hair was so black and shiny that she must have poured lots of nut oil on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point of the show presented in the restaurant, here he was, the most applauded singer of the city, Cristian Vasile. The audience was delirious. Everybody was coming there for him...though there was another band with another singer in some other restaurant...Zavaidoc...Both Zavaidoc and Cristian used to pay low life gangs for protection and sometimes there were fights with knives and swords for artistic supremacy...But that night they were at peace...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night he sang a brand new song...no, his voice was just beautiful, not like on those old Pathe disks we all know...The audience was fascinated, many of them didn't dare breathing and they all had long forgotten all about their food and drink...Most women were crying...Zaraza felt very surprised feeling tears coming out of her eyes and she couldn't remember the last time she had felt a tear finding its way down on her face...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She followed him in the back, she sat in front of him and they had a drink and talked for hours and hours and late in the night they left together and for the next two years they were inseparable. He used to call her "his adored lunatic"...He wrote a song about her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When you come, senorita, in the evening in the park&lt;br /&gt;With lilly petals all around you,&lt;br /&gt;You have sweet passions in your eyes and sinful sparks&lt;br /&gt;and your body is that of a feline snake.&lt;br /&gt;Your mouth is a poem of crazy desires,&lt;br /&gt;your breast a sublime treasure&lt;br /&gt;You're a daemon from my dreams, who torments me and lie to me&lt;br /&gt;But you have the smile of an angel.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the song and his voice recorded back then....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nSULr9NEObE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nSULr9NEObE&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song was on everyone's lips and Zaraza was now as famous as her "celeberrimo" lover...But...the other singer, Zavaidoc, was losing clients...He tried to beat Cristian at his own game by fair methods, spending hours and hours in front of his piano...He even stole one of Sinatra's songs and got blamed for it. The boss of the gang he was paying for protection came out with a plan...He said Cristian had an angel's voice so he couldn't kill him...but an artist without his muse is nothing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the next evening, when Zaraza went out to buy cigarettes for her lover she was attacked and killed...They cut her throat...She was found in the morning, after a night of search with her dress soaked in blood...The police said Cristian had a mad look in his eyes...She was incinerated and he took her ashes home with him...and that very evening he started a ritual who would last for the next four months and which is difficult to be described...and understood...every evening he used to eat one teaspoon of her ashes...until they were gone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he poured turpentine down his throat, burning his throat and never being able to sing again...and then he vanished from the real Bucharest as well as from people's memory...&lt;br /&gt;They say that in 1959 there was this man, looking like a homeless man, who was working at the theatre in Piatra Neamt as a machinist and everyone was saying his name was Cristian Vasile and that he was famous once...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I want you to tell me, beautiful Zaraza,&lt;br /&gt;Who loved you before,&lt;br /&gt;How many have cried for you like mad men&lt;br /&gt;And how many have died for you.&lt;br /&gt;I want your sweet mouth, Zaraza,&lt;br /&gt;To always get me drunk&lt;br /&gt;By your kisses, Zaraza,&lt;br /&gt;I want to die too...&lt;br /&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/6713339861429113500-7959278237222490504?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/7959278237222490504/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=7959278237222490504' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7959278237222490504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7959278237222490504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/zaraza-true-sad-crazy-love-story-june.html' title='Zaraza - a true sad crazy love story (June 27, 2007)'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6370725461199018270</id><published>2008-09-23T15:14:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T15:18:39.069+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='little.voice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun'/><title type='text'>The little voice in my head is telling me (May 17, 2007)</title><content type='html'>This blog entry has been written as a result of an interesting challenge Matriculus set for us, weird sweet people on yahoo360...I actually wrote a blog entry a while ago by the title of "I've killed my little devil", in which I was "describing" the way my little voice works for me. Anyway, just when I thought this topic is dead and done with, it won in Matriculus's poll...ah, I'm not entitled to complain, I voted for it too, so...Problem is...I don't feel very creative right now...so let's just all see what happens...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing is certain. Little voices do exist. For real. It's not us, as psychologists want us to believe. Nooo, no, no, no!...They have a life of their own. Mine is pretty much on vacation all the time, getting a tan for all I know or catching flies or something...I guess "THEY" don't pay it enough. Hell, I'd do the same thing if I were IT. So, you see, my little voice has a pretty laid back life...maybe I'll trade with IT...hmm...&lt;br /&gt;But...when IT is needed there's another tiiiiiiny little voice (they come in all shapes and colours, mine is red) that is sent to get into the head of MY little voice and whisper to it (I haven't heard of a yelling little voice yet): "Go get her! Make it a mess this time! You'll even get a raise!"&lt;br /&gt;And then...then, dear readers...disasters, apocalyptical cataclysms happen...I'll always get burnt, scalded, injured...but that's nothing...sometimes I hurt people and hurt myself in the process...and my little voice says "I WAS ONLY MAKING A SUGGESTION..."&lt;br /&gt;So...theoretically...we are the voices in our little voices' heads...I think...What? (Wait, I'm having a conversation with my little voice...back from the Bahamas...)&lt;br /&gt;ADVICE:&lt;br /&gt;1. Don't send the tiiiiiiiiiiny little voice to get YOUR little voice to get you!&lt;br /&gt;2. Don't ever listen to IT, Ignore IT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-6370725461199018270?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6370725461199018270/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6370725461199018270' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6370725461199018270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6370725461199018270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/little-voice-in-my-head-is-telling-me.html' title='The little voice in my head is telling me (May 17, 2007)'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-2522302877061712159</id><published>2008-09-18T00:49:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T23:42:25.049+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='silly'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='acrostic'/><title type='text'>Silly acrostic of my name</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNK8gLFCFqI/AAAAAAAAGlc/MYAhSNwWbtw/s1600-h/pati+poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247463776755783330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNK8gLFCFqI/AAAAAAAAGlc/MYAhSNwWbtw/s320/pati+poster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;aws up front, galloping ahead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;l&lt;/span&gt;most by themselves, head in the clouds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;ick-tack of a clock racing like a heart, had it little hands!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;R&lt;/span&gt;esponding, replying, relying, rejoicing, recrying, rejumping…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;nstantly creating a balance between paws, gallops, pauses and hands!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;C&lt;/span&gt;ause what would a P be without an A, T, R, I, C, I, A?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; guess it would be just a P…J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt; puzzle to dazzle a B, M or J!&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/6713339861429113500-2522302877061712159?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/2522302877061712159/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=2522302877061712159' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/2522302877061712159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/2522302877061712159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/silly-acrostic-of-my-name.html' title='Silly acrostic of my name'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNK8gLFCFqI/AAAAAAAAGlc/MYAhSNwWbtw/s72-c/pati+poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-871066761767414322</id><published>2008-09-18T00:49:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T19:52:24.391+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='challenge.18'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yahoo.360'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writer&apos;s.block'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>The Door</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKGoFnUGJI/AAAAAAAAGlQ/Xy613tAuTTc/s1600-h/84c7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247404539100010642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKGoFnUGJI/AAAAAAAAGlQ/Xy613tAuTTc/s320/84c7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not me here.&lt;br /&gt;This is not a gun in my hands.&lt;br /&gt;These are not bombs exploding.&lt;br /&gt;These are not my mates bleeding around me.&lt;br /&gt;This is not my war.&lt;br /&gt;I need a way out.&lt;br /&gt;I need a door to wide open for me.&lt;br /&gt;The door out of Hell.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a shred of me here.&lt;br /&gt;This is a tool like any other to help the shred survive the nothingness.&lt;br /&gt;These are reminders of my life being wasted.&lt;br /&gt;These are talking stains of blood on the carpet of silence.&lt;br /&gt;This is the repeated suicidal attempt of humans.&lt;br /&gt;This is a door.&lt;br /&gt;Wide open.&lt;br /&gt;The Heaven's door.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;September 27, 2007&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-871066761767414322?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/871066761767414322/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=871066761767414322' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/871066761767414322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/871066761767414322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/door.html' title='The Door'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKGoFnUGJI/AAAAAAAAGlQ/Xy613tAuTTc/s72-c/84c7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-8657662244853176111</id><published>2008-09-18T00:49:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T19:44:18.565+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yahoo.360'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writer&apos;s.block'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='challenge.19'/><title type='text'>Twist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKFCjJUCFI/AAAAAAAAGlA/J8YsUvsJCcE/s1600-h/writer%27s+block+19.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247402794680584274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKFCjJUCFI/AAAAAAAAGlA/J8YsUvsJCcE/s320/writer%27s+block+19.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“I can mash potatoes...I can mash potatoes....I can do the twist....I can do the twist...so...tell me baby! Do you like it like this?”...She was bouncing around the room totally delirious...”Now...tell me...”...she couldn't even be fully aware of her reflection in the mirror for the frightfully excitement she was feeling...”Do you love me? Do you love me? Now...do you love me?...nooooooow that I can dance...” Her hips were going as higher as she could lift them, the hair was wildly covering her face and “torrential” would be a poor word to describe it...and she was just happy! So what the place looked like a damp? It could be turned into a cozy place...She had been finally set free and that was all that mattered to her...&lt;br /&gt;She was walking away...away from what she used to believe she was...no more...and she was spinning, ignoring the unpacking...the mess, the dust on the floor, the cobwebs...ignoring the past...in the middle of that present she was beginning to feel so alive...round and round and round....all the way....then the music stopped just as a clock struck ...and she froze there, like a statue, as if awoken...and she looked around...”What a mess!” she thought and she started picking up things from the floor...She raised her head then and she saw her own reflection in the mirror. She looked at it for a few seconds, timeless seconds...and then she just looked away.&lt;br /&gt;“I'd better find my shoes now...”, she thought and walked away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;October 1, 2007&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/6713339861429113500-8657662244853176111?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/8657662244853176111/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=8657662244853176111' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8657662244853176111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/8657662244853176111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/twist.html' title='Twist'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKFCjJUCFI/AAAAAAAAGlA/J8YsUvsJCcE/s72-c/writer%27s+block+19.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6331875864492566447</id><published>2008-09-18T00:49:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T19:38:32.423+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='challenge.25'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yahoo.360'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writer&apos;s.block'/><title type='text'>Back Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKDdQ4acbI/AAAAAAAAGk4/idQ5JuzQlhw/s1600-h/846c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247401054611075506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKDdQ4acbI/AAAAAAAAGk4/idQ5JuzQlhw/s320/846c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No air...For so many years, no air...Trapped inside his own illusions, his own expectations, others' expectations, fooling himself every time...Always in search of a new life, always in search of the right choice, running away from home, from a world he thought was a traitor to him, running away from people, running away...Always changing his mind, always making plans, always starting something new, in the exaltation of a prison-breaker...only to find out it was a bad new start, a bad new plan, a bad everything...and falling, falling into the dark depth of his desert, angry as Hell, blaming himself, blaming the others, hurting himself...hurting the others...Always looking back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then he came back home...He was missing it so much he couldn't function anymore, he came back alone, no one followed him, no one... He was telling himself “I am OK with that, I am, the sea is all that I need”...He went to the beach wearing this really old pair of sneackers he had found in his mother's basement...He sat there for hours, contemplating the waves, thinking back on his life, wishing he could erase memories of the past forever, looking straight ahead, telling himself peace is everything that he wanted...He had his family, his old friends, all people who mattered to him so much and whom he had neglected all these years...They had always been there for him, cheering at all his new beginning, cheering at this new beginning...Cheering...&lt;br /&gt;A little foam wave touched his feet...and he suddenly felt that those snickers were burning him, he just couldn't wear them anymore...He took them off and hanged them to the nearest lodge...What else was there left for him? The whole and the nothing...Barefoot...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;November 5, 2007&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6713339861429113500-6331875864492566447?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6331875864492566447/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6331875864492566447' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6331875864492566447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6331875864492566447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/back-home.html' title='Back Home'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKDdQ4acbI/AAAAAAAAGk4/idQ5JuzQlhw/s72-c/846c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-6441528124889968568</id><published>2008-09-18T00:49:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T19:39:21.896+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='challenge.25'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yahoo.360'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writer&apos;s.block'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>My mirror</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKCxlQxRgI/AAAAAAAAGkw/wpzXibcb3NA/s1600-h/item.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247400304167699970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKCxlQxRgI/AAAAAAAAGkw/wpzXibcb3NA/s320/item.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tell me...my mirror,&lt;br /&gt;hanging here, in the open, for everyone to see...&lt;br /&gt;Tell me, my one way mirror...&lt;br /&gt;Through all the perfect things you see...&lt;br /&gt;witness...&lt;br /&gt;embrace...&lt;br /&gt;protect...&lt;br /&gt;reflect...&lt;br /&gt;abuse...&lt;br /&gt;accuse...&lt;br /&gt;cocoon...&lt;br /&gt;bim bam boom...&lt;br /&gt;aren't I the prettiest from here to the moon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;november 27, 2007&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/6713339861429113500-6441528124889968568?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/6441528124889968568/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=6441528124889968568' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6441528124889968568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/6441528124889968568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-mirror.html' title='My mirror'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNKCxlQxRgI/AAAAAAAAGkw/wpzXibcb3NA/s72-c/item.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-5837102466958532388</id><published>2008-09-18T00:49:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T19:19:51.448+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yahoo.360'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writer&apos;s.block'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='challenge.21'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Awakening</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNJ-V2_x1vI/AAAAAAAAGko/X4gt-YyGlis/s1600-h/1e41.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247395429845423858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNJ-V2_x1vI/AAAAAAAAGko/X4gt-YyGlis/s320/1e41.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; For so long&lt;br /&gt;my eyes could only see&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For so long&lt;br /&gt;my nose could only smell&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For so long&lt;br /&gt;my ears could only hear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For so long&lt;br /&gt;my hands could only touch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For so long&lt;br /&gt;my mouth could only taste&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been asleep for too long...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to wake up&lt;br /&gt;and give&lt;br /&gt;my eyes&lt;br /&gt;my nose&lt;br /&gt;my ears&lt;br /&gt;my hands&lt;br /&gt;my mouth&lt;br /&gt;A new life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This is my latest entry for Writer's block group which I enjoy very much. This photo is very generous as a theme and this is what I've come up with and I'm posting it before I change my mind. - &lt;em&gt;october 15, 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div 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/6713339861429113500-5837102466958532388?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/5837102466958532388/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=5837102466958532388' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5837102466958532388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/5837102466958532388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/for-so-long-my-eyes-could-only-see-for.html' title='Awakening'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNJ-V2_x1vI/AAAAAAAAGko/X4gt-YyGlis/s72-c/1e41.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6713339861429113500.post-7701249706788074809</id><published>2008-09-18T00:49:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T19:19:02.301+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yahoo.360'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writer&apos;s.block'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='challenge.23'/><title type='text'>Dungeons and Dragons</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF74HDcXnI/AAAAAAAAGj0/HN8_0W4c21w/s1600-h/f42f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247111244759719538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF74HDcXnI/AAAAAAAAGj0/HN8_0W4c21w/s320/f42f.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I can see the whole world from up here&lt;br /&gt;this is my dungeon&lt;br /&gt;my tower of faith and disbelief&lt;br /&gt;my altar and my pulpit&lt;br /&gt;the safest place someone can have...&lt;br /&gt;my dragon's asleep...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's out there?&lt;br /&gt;some other dungeons&lt;br /&gt;towers&lt;br /&gt;altars&lt;br /&gt;and pulpits&lt;br /&gt;...hosting dragons...&lt;br /&gt;standing solitary in this seemingly tidy chaos&lt;br /&gt;we call life...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some deserted&lt;br /&gt;some populated&lt;br /&gt;some over populated&lt;br /&gt;some near&lt;br /&gt;some far...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mine is the safest...&lt;br /&gt;and I'll gladly surrender&lt;br /&gt;to its fierce eyes&lt;br /&gt;and its fierce smile...&lt;br /&gt;...all dragons need their rest...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't wake me, let me be...&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/6713339861429113500-7701249706788074809?l=stillpatricia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/feeds/7701249706788074809/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6713339861429113500&amp;postID=7701249706788074809' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7701249706788074809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6713339861429113500/posts/default/7701249706788074809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stillpatricia.blogspot.com/2008/09/dungeons-and-dragons.html' title='Dungeons and Dragons'/><author><name>Patricia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01319710347978197520</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF07hE--UI/AAAAAAAAGi4/o6eQtJirBtg/S220/warhol+effect.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nhOCIHs5Lm8/SNF74HDcXnI/AAAAAAAAGj0/HN8_0W4c21w/s72-c/f42f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
