<?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-9072415404917118093</id><updated>2012-02-25T22:19:16.509-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Share the Love: no fair hogging!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-1375987176483701206</id><published>2012-02-06T19:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T20:01:34.404-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Respect&gt;Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;h6 class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:1}"&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody" ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;Love Does not hold relationships together. Respect does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love may be enough for some, but it's not enough for me. Love doesn't  stop other people from disrespecting your relationship .... Respect  does. If your partner respects you, they won't even allow someone else  to think there's a&lt;br /&gt;"possibility".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h6&gt;&lt;p&gt;My friend posted this as her Facebook status and I absolutely think it's true. Love is only a part of a relationship. Anyone can love. But respect is something that has to be earned because you are worthy to be respected. A guy has to respect you enough to be truthful if he loves you and leave you if he doesn't. Respect is accepting and letting go of a guy who needs his space. Respect is restraining themselves from doing something that is more hurtful in the long run. A guy can love to women. But that's not respect. Don't make me laugh.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hyemi fell in love and I'm really happy for her. We've always talked about our great expectations and she seems really happy. I can't wait to get a boyfriend so that we can double date. Hyemi is a real generous person and stubborn and that's what I love about her. Seeing them together is so touching. Even if Sherry gets a boyfriend before me, and we're all hanging around together and I'm the fifth wheel, I'd still be happy. I only hope that they're fine with a loner like me hanging about them, lol. So happy! Eep, yay Hyemi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-1375987176483701206?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/1375987176483701206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2012/02/love-does-not-hold-relationships.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/1375987176483701206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/1375987176483701206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2012/02/love-does-not-hold-relationships.html' title='Respect&gt;Love'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-1239596389802154612</id><published>2012-02-03T21:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T19:20:55.009-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a Quarter!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zXvPuJ-aea0/Ty7F-NrLOLI/AAAAAAAAAHU/BVPpO8eCBZI/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2012-01-29%2Bat%2B12.21.17%2BAM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 177px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zXvPuJ-aea0/Ty7F-NrLOLI/AAAAAAAAAHU/BVPpO8eCBZI/s400/Screen%2Bshot%2B2012-01-29%2Bat%2B12.21.17%2BAM.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705715450538309810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-61WZISBDE48/Ty7Fj_JQIjI/AAAAAAAAAG8/iNzq-hO6e3Q/s1600/Photo%2Bon%2B2012-02-04%2Bat%2B16.06%2B%25232.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-61WZISBDE48/Ty7Fj_JQIjI/AAAAAAAAAG8/iNzq-hO6e3Q/s320/Photo%2Bon%2B2012-02-04%2Bat%2B16.06%2B%25232.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705714999961330226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's official, I turned 25!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's midnight and as tired as I feel, I think I need to write down all my emotions! I've had, for the most part, a wonderful birthweek!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starting from Jan. 29th which was my Chinese birthday. I went with my mom to buy not 1, but 2 coats! At first, nothing really caught my eye. Then I saw one that I really liked, but it was way too small for me. Then my mom found my perfect size, but all the buttons were missing. So my mom cut all the buttons from the one I couldn't fit and I found the belt that was missing lying around somewhere in another aisle! And because the buttons were missing, I was lucky enough to get 25% off of the coat! I also bought a cheaper one because I wanted something that wasn't black like the rest of my coats and something pleated. And that's what I found! It's a pleated red coat! It makes me seem so sassy! :D Then we went to buy my cake. My friend told me that Paris Baguette sells a really good blueberry/green tea cake and a yummy sweet potato cake. The sweet potato cake just seemed so out there that I chose that one! It wasn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that &lt;/span&gt;bad, but my family didn't like it. Haha. It was such a small cake and for $32! I'd rather go to a more famous bakery in NYC! Next time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/30: I got yelled at at work by someone who's known to be a big jerk face. He's never really raised his voice at me, so I was shocked when he did. The worst part was, it was such a small thing that was blown way out of proportion. The good part is that I finally  see him for how he really is: a jerk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2/1: Annette and I went to lunch. Seeing as how we had 20 minutes left in our break, she told me to get in the car and that we were going to Mandee's to pick out my birthday present! I was shocked thinking it was so spontaneous and how I wouldn't have anything to buy there. Luckily for us, they were going out of business so everything was on sale. I got a pair of flats and a purse for less than $30! Yay. I was really happy about it. Annette is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2/2: Annette came in with a birthday balloon with a picture of Curious George eating 6 scoops of ice cream. She said it reminded her of me because she always hears me opening my candy wrappers in my cubicle. That was fun. I was never given any balloons ever. :( At around 11, Jenny texted me telling me to call her on my lunch break so that she can vent.. I was not about to call her on my break since it was going to be my birthday lunch. I took a short break and headed to the back of the office to call her. The balcony door was open and a robber/killer could be in the office hiding somewhere for all we know! Yikes! She vented about her sister. I don't like when people complain. I really don't especially when it's not that serious. Why can't she complain to herself, like I do. I'm trying to stay positive and her negativity is a real bummer. She knew I was at work or at lunch, yet she took her sweet time to talk about it. I'm like 'come on, come on!!' Then after 9 minutes, I told her I had to go and finally she let me go. The thing that bugs me is that she has a lot of friends, so why can't she distribute her complaints among her other friends! So I walked back and I was going to complain about it to Frank, but he went to talk to Annette. When I went to Annette's cubicle to talk about the open balcony door, my other coworker came out with her homemade cake and they all sang "happy birthday" to me. I was like, "OMG, I'm soo embarrassed!" and I covered my face and thanked them for it. AWESOME!! Then Annette and I went for lunch. On the drive there, we blasted gangsta music which pumped me up. She treated me to lunch. I really like her. She's wild and awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2/3: I was really pumped for Saturday. I'm happy to actually make plans for my birthday and invite my friends to share it with me. I'm meeting one of my best friend's very first boyfriend for the first time. After a very early dinner, we're going to a karaoke lounge during happy hour and hopefully laugh, sing, dance and be merry! This would be my first time at a club besides that one time I went to Hunkamania for my cousin's bachelorette party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm grateful to have good friends, even if I don't have a lot. I'm happy to share me turning 25  with people who are close to me. I will surely cherish this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I JUST CAN'T WAIT!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;update:&lt;br /&gt;So it's the morning after my birthday. I got up and made some cookies, as is the tradition whenever I meet Hyemi and Sherry. Did 20 minutes on the treadmill, and then relieved some stress onto the punching bag. I tried to be really happy because it's my birthday, and it's the first time I've ever made plans to hang out. Took a shower, cut some bangs and finally whipped out my new Burberry glasses to wear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got dressed. My room is soo messy. I really need to donate some of my clothes to those clothing bins. I have too many clothes I don't wear! And I headed out. Met them at the shao long bao place. The place was packed, so we waited for about 20 minutes, but we kept ourselves entertained. There was this guy eating alone by the window. It looked like he was eating with someone, but she was no longer there. Ti said it must be his mother, and Sam said it could have been his girlfriend. The jokes basically wrote themselves because he looked so lonely and in deep thought about something sad. He was consuming his food rather slowly, and often times, the waiters were looking over his shoulders to see if he's done yet. It's rather sad. We were joking about how maybe he'll be famous one day by writing a book about his sadness or even create a Korean drama him sitting by himself and eating. He won't look like the main character, then we find out that he is! Haha. We finally got seated and Jenny came later. Everyone treated me to dinner against my will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we headed to the karaoke place. What a shady place. On their site, they said that they had happy hour during 5pm-9pm and the rooms were half off and so were the beers. Hyemi bought a cake for me and they all sang to me. :) I was soo happy. lol. Except for my sucky ass camera keep saying that there was no batteries and it wouldn't stay focused so all I had were blurry pictures. After 2 hours, we asked for the check and it came out to be $120. WTF! And apparently, we could have bought food up to the amount that we paid for the room. That's not what they had on their site. So Sam went to talk to them. They eventually allowed us to stay an extra  half an hour and order all the food we didn't before. We rushed through it. What a terrible place! My first bad review on yelp is coming up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After, Jenny drove me to my grandma's house. Hung around until my dad came to pick us up. Thanked everyone on Facebook for their wishes especially those who came out for me. :) What a great 25th birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ended the night with this video my cousins made for me &amp;lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-cd689e3dc741868f" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dcd689e3dc741868f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1332959246%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3C955C49490DE41095EDA5808FF4C226BC9FB6EE.4ED58DCC45CB48C7B8D7177E7B628CEEAE56FC26%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dcd689e3dc741868f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMYGyc2RRYDSmfF1r44rd_7w0LvU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dcd689e3dc741868f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1332959246%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3C955C49490DE41095EDA5808FF4C226BC9FB6EE.4ED58DCC45CB48C7B8D7177E7B628CEEAE56FC26%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dcd689e3dc741868f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMYGyc2RRYDSmfF1r44rd_7w0LvU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-1239596389802154612?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/1239596389802154612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2012/02/its-official-i-turned-25-its-midnight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/1239596389802154612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/1239596389802154612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2012/02/its-official-i-turned-25-its-midnight.html' title='I am a Quarter!'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zXvPuJ-aea0/Ty7F-NrLOLI/AAAAAAAAAHU/BVPpO8eCBZI/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2012-01-29%2Bat%2B12.21.17%2BAM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-301679814634798302</id><published>2012-01-30T20:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T19:07:53.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Respect Their Choice</title><content type='html'>Is it true? Can someone really force you to fall for a person that you had no intentions of falling for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It couldn't possibly be true, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an Asian American, I was raised a certain way, but was taught another. As a Chinese person, I was raised to respect your elders, to be shy, to be behaved, and to do well in school. As a Chinese girl, I wasn't allowed to go out as much as my brother did. My wildness has always been inhibited because of the restraints my parents put on my social life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That, I resented. As I grow older, I still feel like they treat me like a child. I've never done anything that caused them to mistrust me, yet they do. It kind of forces me to lie to them or feel like lying when I do feel like rebelling. Maybe ignorance is bliss for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondering how much falling is required for me to get glimmers in my eyes. I think about the great love that I will have. As much as I want love, I still smile with hope that my love will be a great one when it comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were to like someone who was not available, it's merely a crush. I don't need to fall hard for anyone who has chosen another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think love is hard. But it's definitely well worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-301679814634798302?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/301679814634798302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2012/01/respect-their-choice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/301679814634798302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/301679814634798302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2012/01/respect-their-choice.html' title='Respect Their Choice'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-1453239241247152081</id><published>2012-01-17T19:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T13:39:15.068-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Can't We Love Mutually?</title><content type='html'>You know what the hardest thing about falling in love is? To believe that he's totally into you when in reality, it's just not true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there such a thing as a guy with a girlfriend who comes to the realization that he belongs with someone else and immediately forsakes his old lover? Not unless it was a fairy tale. Why can't we all love mutually? Do we have to love the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wrong&lt;/span&gt; people in order to realize who the right person is? Is love so precious that we have to go through much hardship in order to obtain a decent amount of it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At my cousin's housewarming, my older cousins asked me where my boyfriend was. As always, I joke about how my mom would go back to China and bring me back a husband. They said that anyone I date must be approved by them. I have no doubt that whomever I date will be an awesome guy. I told them that when I get a boyfriend, he would surpass all their expectations and more. I have faith that I would find a nice person and he would just be awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on the bus and I saw this guy. He looked like a punk. He had a spiked lip ring and he was doodling. That appeals to me so much. Ahh, to have a bad boy with a great heart. That would be ideal for me. Who says that the inside has to match the outside? Why can't we be a little deceitful?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have come to realize that in order to have someone great, I need to be someone great. I can't receive more than I can give myself. My friend asked my other friend to set me up. I guess she pities me because I'm single and never mingled. He showed her a picture of one of his single friends. Before she sent the picture to me, she said, "Well, maybe he has a really nice personality". Uh-oh, you know what that means! He was a chubby buddy. Like I told my cousin, I cannot date a chubby guy. I don't want us to be known as the chubby couple, you know? I'm self conscious as is with my weight and since I started working at the office, I've gained back most of the weight that I've sweated off from the gym back in October. Boy was I mad about that. All that hard work. Well, that has to change!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, given another circumstance, I might have been interested in him for his personality, but not now. The main reason that I don't like to be set up is because I don't want to disappoint them when they see me. I feel like they'll take one look at me and brush me off. That's why I'd rather date someone who's actually seen and knew what I was about. If I were to be asked out, it would be because of my awesome personality. Not my looks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And throwing me into the mix hoping that I'd hit it off with a potential suitor is the worst thing to do! My awkward, shyness comes out and he would barely know me as a person. I'd act so indifferent to the point that I don't seem that likable at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And again, I've said this many times. If I lost the weight and became a sexy offender, then I'd be quite snooty. I don't know how that would fend with others but I'm definitely not going to settle. If I have more to offer, then he should as well. I should have lost the weight before the year ended, but that didn't happen. Hopefully, this year, I'd fare better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Future Boyfriend,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm turning 25 soon. Hopefully, that means you're going to pop into my life any time now. Thank you for being sweet on me. I knew it'd take someone special to pick me out in a crowd. I would not have settled for anyone less than a great catch. Since you're my first, I want to have an unforgettable time with you. And when I look back, I'll smile at those times and be glad that I had a great first, even if you weren't my last. I'll definitely treasure the good times we've shared and the happiness that you brought into my life in whichever period of time you were present.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for bringing me out of my shell. Thank you for accepting my silence and always knowing what to say to break it. I love how funny you are and, of course, your random outbursts of quirkiness that I adore so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for knowing when to make me smile and when to just lend an ear. You're always patient and understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make sure to hold my hand often, for it's something I enjoy a lot. And hugging of course. I've always been a stiff hugger because of my intimacy issues with everyone. But give me some time and I'll be the best hugger in the world! I can't wait to feel your warmth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your Future Girlfriend&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-1453239241247152081?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/1453239241247152081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2012/01/why-cant-we-love-mutually.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/1453239241247152081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/1453239241247152081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2012/01/why-cant-we-love-mutually.html' title='Why Can&apos;t We Love Mutually?'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-2235389346036064906</id><published>2011-12-01T19:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T20:11:23.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, Stranger</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qbwZDT0xvbc/TthKLBEgSdI/AAAAAAAAAF0/jSTYHAbDqI8/s1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qbwZDT0xvbc/TthKLBEgSdI/AAAAAAAAAF0/jSTYHAbDqI8/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681372483054225874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the main reasons for working in Corporate America and big buildings with numerous floors is for the chance to meet new people everyday. This is not to say that I'll be making conversation with someone new everyday. I just like the fact that I could if I wanted to. It's the excitement of meeting someone great that drives my excitement. You never know who'd walk into your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, when I was bustling back and forth from the copier, I happened to see a very handsome gentleman. He was blonde and rugged. He was dressed cleanly with a shirt and vest. I had to give him a third glance to decide whether I thought he was hot or not. Well, there was no doubt that he was hot, but it took me a couple of glances to see that he was within the age rage where I'd find them appropriately "hot" for me. He was indeed a yummy one. I'd hate to be a girl that stared at guys like a piece of meat, but bygone it, I couldn't stop looking. He left the office. I whispered to the secretary that he was so good looking. She called him a sweetheart. Ah, good looking and sweet. What a combo to make my heart roar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the day, 15 minutes before the day was over, I joined into the conversation with the Secretary Nancy and Liz, who did payroll. We heard 'thanks' and Liz thought someone was calling her name. I turned and Mr. Hottie was leaving Virginia's (accountant) office. As he strolled all sexy to the door, he was looking at me looking at him. He didn't back down from the stare, and I can proudly say, I didn't either. He was so beautiful. And he was looking at me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stranger Tides&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Like walking into stranger tides&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That I came into your world&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Or perhaps, you came into mine&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And I was the one who was curious&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;How long can one second be&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When staring into those marine blue eyes?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And how sweet it was&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When you decided to look back&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m not the type that eyes down a passerby&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But a pretty boy like you, can you blame me?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;With all that swag, it’s a little unnerving&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But then again, this is stranger tides&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Do I dare tread?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;[It's not like I'll see him again. He works for a company that outsources their therapists to the nursing home. Oh wells, there will always be today.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-2235389346036064906?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/2235389346036064906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/12/hello-stranger.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/2235389346036064906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/2235389346036064906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/12/hello-stranger.html' title='Hello, Stranger'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qbwZDT0xvbc/TthKLBEgSdI/AAAAAAAAAF0/jSTYHAbDqI8/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-3598992248741034535</id><published>2011-11-29T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T21:34:30.748-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiding From Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j9-E5Qi2gv8/TtW1pvp7WGI/AAAAAAAAAFo/NvLgGcMWjyA/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-11-29%2Bat%2B11.46.56%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 356px; height: 333px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j9-E5Qi2gv8/TtW1pvp7WGI/AAAAAAAAAFo/NvLgGcMWjyA/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-11-29%2Bat%2B11.46.56%2BPM.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680646233769334882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I finally got a new itouch after having my second generation one for about 3 years. I mean, can you blame me when my old one can't even update anymore? And I really want the camera.. I bought it on Black Friday when it was about $20 cheaper. I was positive I'd get it, but what to put as the engraving was the problem. I needed something that defined me as a person. I wanted something that I wouldn't get sick of looking at. I needed inspirational words and what's more inspirational than Plato? Here were a couple of lines I was considering but they were either too long or too short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What's that smell? The answer my friend is blowing in the wind.&lt;br /&gt;2. Fortune favors the bold.&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span class="st"&gt;Skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair as black as ebony&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm just waiting for it. Oh, I just love my quote. I thought about how romantic it'd be if a guy gave me an engraving like that and then wrote a poem to me..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost the end of the year and I still haven't accomplished everything I wanted to by the end of this year. This was supposed to be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; year. The Year of the Rabbit. I was supposed to lose weight, have a boyfriend, and a stable job. But I have neither.. But at least I got my Masters. That's a pretty big accomplishment that I should be proud of. And I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If some divine Destiny writer is saving someone great for me, I sure hope that I don't have to wait much longer for him. And if he was indeed already in my life, then bygone it, I wish I get a clearer sign. We all know how clueless I get with these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This leads me to the topic worth discussing. It came across to me when I was listening to Elliot Yamin's "Fight For Love".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I see that some people fight for love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;they stick with it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;just can't quit it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;some people hide from love &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;they run from it &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cause they don't want it"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;This got me thinking. I'm shy. There's no doubt about it. People see it because when they talk to me, I get like a little girl hiding behind mommy's dress. The question is, do I use my shyness to hide from love? There's no doubt that I want love. Badly. There's nothing in this world I want more than the love of a man who sees me as their other half, and he is mine. But the very thought of a guy flirting with me is so awkward that I shake it off as a joke. When a guy cares about me, I get scared. I'm scared of not being a good girlfriend. What if I ruin things? What then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some guys scare me. Those, I can't be myself around. They have a tendency to make me nervous. Is that love? Maybe. But I want a comfortable love. I want to be able to be my goofy self. To marry prince charming is not something I want. I was raised a certain way and I get a kick out of being sarcastic. Prince charming would only inhibit this side of me. I just want a good person with a good head on his shoulder. I could write a list of all the qualities I want in a guy, but most things on that list is negotiable. It's the attraction that really hits me hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I self-sabotaging by being myself?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-3598992248741034535?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/3598992248741034535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/11/so-i-finally-got-new-itouch-after.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3598992248741034535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3598992248741034535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/11/so-i-finally-got-new-itouch-after.html' title='Hiding From Love'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j9-E5Qi2gv8/TtW1pvp7WGI/AAAAAAAAAFo/NvLgGcMWjyA/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-11-29%2Bat%2B11.46.56%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-3482723292485837922</id><published>2011-11-23T18:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T20:12:06.872-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fighting to Feel Positively Thankful</title><content type='html'>I'm thankful for everything positive. Nothing will bring me down faster than negativity. As contagious as laughter is, a person's unhappiness is like a virus that spreads to whomever they came into contact with. It's true that life is truly really short. Why spend all this time worrying about the future and the things that make us sad?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend once told me that I was awesome for always looking at the brighter side of things. And I loved that she noticed. I'd be grateful if this attitude could rub off on her. Everyone has self esteem issues. I am no exception. If anything, I'm so self-conscious that I keep my feelings hidden so far inside that people can't get to know me wholeheartedly. I know I'm self-conscious because of body issues. I keep myself closed from the world because of the way I was raised. I wished my parents &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;showed &lt;/span&gt;me more affection growing up. Then I wouldn't feel awkward hugging people and telling people that I love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being positive is hard sometimes when you live in hostile environments. This is not to say that I live in some hood gangster town. I'm talking about family. People are surprised that I don't really talk to my brother. I told this guy once that my brother and I don't really speak to each other even if we live together. We normally try to keep out of the others' business. When he's in the living room watching TV, I'm usually in my room on my Macbook. When I go out to the living room to eat, he'll let me watch the TV and he'll go back to his room. That's our relationship. It's not a bad one. It's just quiet. We're communicating somewhat more now, but still quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same with my parents. We don't sit around and talk about our feelings. My dad works all day. He comes home around 11 and would sometimes come to my room and we would bump fists. If he had something to share, he'd bring it up. I like these little conversations because unlike my brother and mom, I don't really judge. He's the type that likes to send money to his hometown and make their quality of life a little bit better. It's not like we're rich, but we're better off than people in his hometown. There's nothing wrong with helping even if that means we have to keep our super old refrigerator for another year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd normally tell my mom about my day if it's juicy enough. She's weird about her space. Two days ago, I was baking cookies and I was finishing up my last 2 batches when she came home. She saw me in the kitchen and made a nasty comment about how I was going to be in her way when she cooks dinner. I snapped at her. I told her that it wasn't that serious. All she had to say was that she needs the counter top and I'd move my stuff somewhere else. It made me feel like I was in her way so I try to stay out of her way most of the time. She stepped on my feet yesterday and she didn't even apologize for it. It wasn't her first time doing it either. My room was basically my sanctuary. She also kicks me out of the living room when she wants to watch TV or sit in a certain sofa seat. She knows that she can pick on me so she does. Sometimes I'd say nothing and walk away. Sometimes I yell back. When I stay quiet, she says that it's unhealthy to hold things in. When I yell, she calls me a bitch. She has a bipolarness about her. Sometimes, I just want to leave this house. I don't feel loved half the time. It's heartbreaking being here when I have to live in such an environment where I'm not respected most of the time by her. What can I do when all I want to be is positive and people just bring me down with their attitudes? I cope. I cry. I take care of my own feelings. I try to look at the positive. I try to make sure that I find some happiness from all of this because there are people in sadder situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has things that will bring them down. No one is an exception to this regardless of how perfect they seem from the outside looking in. We are all human. We all need some repairing. That's probably why I want someone to love and to be loved back. I want someone to by a healing soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for the positive things in my life. I want to smile with my lips, my eyes, and my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know people can't be positive all the time. I'm thankful for the times people do stay positive. I respect people for trying to stay positive through the sadness people face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-3482723292485837922?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/3482723292485837922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/11/fighting-to-feel-positively-thankful.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3482723292485837922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3482723292485837922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/11/fighting-to-feel-positively-thankful.html' title='Fighting to Feel Positively Thankful'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-7977565019868470449</id><published>2011-11-22T20:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T20:50:18.238-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If I Hit Stuff, I'd Hit That</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Did You Just Fart? Because You Just Blew Me Away"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing excites my heart more than to hear corny flirtatious jokes shared in good taste. My cousin, Fannie, was telling me a bunch of them and it made me laugh uncontrollably. I told her that she had to stop or else she'll turn me into an incestuous lesbian. lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Are you Vietnamese? Because I'm falling PHO you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one got my head thrown back and hyuking for a couple of Mississippis as I was ladling soup for myself at our early Thanksgiving feast at my grandparents' house. This is what life should be about. Family and sharing fun times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that pick up lines only work for certain people. If you're fairly good looking, then these corny lines make you seem charming and personable. If it was some guy that repulses you, then it's not so charming. I guess that's why I refuse to flirt. They might look at me like I'm some sort of creeper. Handsome people get away with a lot of things. They make friends easily and get all the attention. I guess I wasn't meant to be a pretty girl. And that's fine, I guess. I hate attention, anyways. I don't like people eying me down and analyzing me. I want to live in somewhat obscurity. I want guys to observe my personality rather than make me share my beef. You can't tell much about me just by talking to me because I can be shy and indifferent. If you studied me, I think I'd be likable on most days. With my OCD, I'm sure you'd occasionally see me knocking on wood and walls. Maybe even see me stepping on my favorite pavement cracks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I need is one or two great loves in my life. I don't need a bunch of guys to pay attention to me. All I need is one great one at a time. There are over 3 billion guys out there. I refuse to believe that there is not one person out there for me. I refuse to believe that when a great love is over, that there isn't a greater one out there waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if I were to hide myself in a cave somewhere, would I still be able to have love come looking for me? I've lived life pretty mundanely. What have I done for a guy to go to all that trouble to come find me? Maybe they're like me. They know there is a great love out there for them. If I knew of my great love, I'd go searching for him too. Simply put: it's all about love, baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-7977565019868470449?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/7977565019868470449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/11/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/7977565019868470449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/7977565019868470449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/11/blog-post.html' title='If I Hit Stuff, I&apos;d Hit That'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-2247591904458403908</id><published>2011-11-19T20:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T20:45:50.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys Will Be Boys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9z_lUqlzSlo/TssrcqWsdpI/AAAAAAAAAFc/mdn4xKhfXGI/s1600/thumbnail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 420px; height: 292px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9z_lUqlzSlo/TssrcqWsdpI/AAAAAAAAAFc/mdn4xKhfXGI/s320/thumbnail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677679526636451474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I occasionally Google Eliud, this guy that was obsessed with me on OkCupid! and found out that he started a blog. When I read what he wrote, at first, I thought he was talking about me. (Conceited, I know but could you blame me? He seemed to have been really taken by me on that site.) When I read further, I found out that it was actually about a girl that he knew a while back and had gotten reacquainted with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I am a lucky man to have such a great person back in my life, Lovely bird (that’s what I’ll call her)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I thought, 'wow, he sure falls in love easily!' I was a bit jealous that I was that easy to get over. But did I really give him the time to let his feelings for me grow? I tried to get out of his life as fast as I could. I didn't want to leave any trails behind for him to sniff me out. All he knew was that my name is simply Li and how I look like. Not in a million years would he ever find out who I am. Never in a million years will we ever cross paths. I, on the other hand, knew his whole name, which eventually lead me to find that he has multiple dating accounts, MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, and a blog. Though most of them are private, it steal feels intimidating that he's putting himself out there with his real name. At least I have the caution to make an Alias. Yes, it's nice to open yourself up to the world, but that just makes you the more vulnerable to getting hurt. The main reason I do not want anyone I know reading my inner most thoughts that I put on this blog is because I don't want people to read it and judge me. I don't want them to think that I'm this vulnerable girl, desperate for love. I don't want some guy to feel bad for me and ask me out out of sympathy. I don't take charity especially when it comes to love. I don't need people to feel sorry for me. I'll find love, eventually. Everyone moves at their own pace. How am I any different?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it comes to love, I always feel that when it dies for one person, that it's better to leave sooner than later. Sympathy should not be the driving force to sticking around because you know that you would leave eventually. The longer it's prolonged, the harder it will be for the other to cope. Eliud was complimenting me more than I could comfortably accept. I had to leave before I do to him what another has done to me. We are not puppets. I'd rather cut the strings and run away than to keep him in my room collecting dust. Many people would keep him so that they have a safe second to go back to when their first choice doesn't work out. This is a selfish deed. No one wants to be another's second choice. Why keep him and force him to be on the back burner when he would go out into the world and look for their number one? Why did I Google him? I guess I wanted to see if he would write about me. I've never had someone write about me. It's nice to be thought of. I think about people all the time. Why can't someone return a favor and think about me for a change?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway. I found a temporary job at Chapin helping them pull out and copy files for an audit. There, I met a pretty 20 year old aka Am. She's really nice, but like Jenny, she complains a lot. When I'm with her, I guess I'm not the cute, quirky one that the guys seem to have an eye for anymore. It reminds me of that time when there was this old man who moved to an apartment near my grandma, and everyday he would go to the corner store and sit there and just people watch. Whenever he sees me, he's call out to me, blow a kiss at me, and calls me beautiful. It really crept me out, but he was an old man with a limp. He couldn't do anything to me. So one day, I was dreading passing him, so I prepared myself. I waved hello to him just for him to ignore me for a "prettier" girl. I looked at her. She was none other than Zoora, a girl I knew from elementary school. She was such a mean, unpopular girl. She was known for having lice on her head so no one really liked her. She also flips the bird at people for no reason. [I remember one time in summer school, my teacher said I had lice. I remember that day too. She pointed at my head 2 feet away claiming I had lie, so I wondered how she could possibly see it from that far. She separated me from all the other students. I was so lonely for a couple of weeks. My family didn't see anything when they checked my head. My mom brought me to the doctor and he didn't find anything either. All that commotion for nothing. That stupid teacher probably saw a dandruff. She ought to be condemned for something that isn't true! I hope she farts somewhere public and have people pointing at her. A nice, big smelly fart.] So I was shocked that he was blowing kisses and calling someone who was mean and formerly liced 'beautiful'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this guy that would always say hi to me in such a pleasant way that I thought he was somewhat crushing on me. One day, Am told me that when he first saw her, he told her that she was so beautiful that she's 'like God-sent'. I was like 'what? He never said that to me! I'm jealous.' And I was. What a compliment! I've been called beautiful by perverts, but never a God-sent. Yeesh. I was like "Am, why do you have to be so beautiful?" She told me never to say that to her again. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this other guy, Miguel. He works in accounting. The first time I ever saw him, I was awestrucked at how pretty he was. I didn't like him that way though. He's too pretty to be my type. He hits on her too. He doesn't do it in front of me though. He definitely has game, but too bad that Am and I talk about these things. He's 10 years older than her and he has a girlfriend. I would never want my boyfriend to be talking to girls the way he talks to us. Just the other day, Am and I were off because they had a board meeting, and we were kicked out of our work area for the day. I took the chance to have lunch with Kathy. That day, I was so lazy to go to the gym, that I just slept in and used the treadmill in my basement. I took a shower and headed over there. When I got there, Kathy's office was closed so I waited outside. Miguel walks in and sits in front of me. He wanted to talk to Kathy too. So he looked at me. This is how it went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: Look at your in jeans with your wet hair. Trying to be all sexy.&lt;br /&gt;L: What? I just came from the gym, so I took a shower.&lt;br /&gt;M: You have cute shoes on. It's girly. You're not very girly, are you?&lt;br /&gt;L: I've worn these shoes everyday that I've worked upstairs..so&lt;br /&gt;M: Your pants are ripped.&lt;br /&gt;L: That's because it's the cool thing right now.&lt;br /&gt;M: I don't like your shirt. It doesn't show enough cleavage.&lt;br /&gt;L: Well, you can imagine.. never mind. I don't know what to say to that.&lt;br /&gt;M: No, you have to show it to guys. We don't have an imagination.&lt;br /&gt;L: Stupid Miguel. This conversation is over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said some even more inappropriate things to Am, but that's for her blog if she had one. It's true that you don't know a person until you really know them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I know is that those aren't the guys I want. I want him to be humble. If he was cocky, I want it to be only the shell. I want him to be truly humble on the inside. I don't know who I want right now. I want Franky, but he's taken. When it comes to boys, when I really like a guy, the subconscious kicks in and sends me subliminal messages. I thought, there's no way I'll see his name around. It's such an uncommon name in NY. Well, there's a street called Franky Ave when I take the Q65 to the gym. There's a show called Franky when I search through onDemand for my shows. That stupid cartoon with the frog. My first expression was 'what the hell?!' I don't like him that much. And I hope it remains that way. I think my crush on him was overhyped by Annette and Michelle. I didn't like him any way when I first met him. He's a decent guy and seems like he has a good heart. That's it. He'd be a good boyfriend, but he and his girl friend seems great together. I must remember that saying: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;be careful who you fall in love with because someone somewhere won't approve.&lt;/span&gt; I don't want to love the wrong person. There's no doubt I will like many guys throughout my lifetime. But to love one person is what I plan on doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-2247591904458403908?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/2247591904458403908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/11/boys-will-be-boys.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/2247591904458403908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/2247591904458403908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/11/boys-will-be-boys.html' title='Boys Will Be Boys'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9z_lUqlzSlo/TssrcqWsdpI/AAAAAAAAAFc/mdn4xKhfXGI/s72-c/thumbnail.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-3854391655817639573</id><published>2011-10-22T14:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T20:43:21.457-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dilemma</title><content type='html'>So there's this guy I like.. I haven't liked a guy in a while. I think it's been two years since I last crushed on a guy that much.. sigh..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Franky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was the guy who replaced me at Corporate Headquarters. I met him 3 times when I went to have lunch there with Annette. When I first saw him, I thought he was pretty cute, but I didn't think much about it. He seemed shy so I didn't think I would be able to connect with him. I mean, how do you connect with another person who doesn't talk. Two shy people will go no where. So I was like whatever..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second time I had lunch with Annette, he actually came to lunch with us so I got to meet him.. It sucked that I had a major stomach ache and kept getting up to poop.. And they had to say something about it.. I was embarrassed because he was there.. But like everyone, Annette likes to be open and talk about each of our pooping habits.. and it made me feel less embarrassed.. But then, Annette was like "Li Ling, meet your future husband, Franky" and I was so embarrassed.. I glared at her. lol. I felt so awkward. After lunch, I still had a stomach ache after lunch, so I stayed at Corporate to make sure I didn't have to go again.. I stayed up front with Franky until my stomach settled and we got to talking. He wanted to go to grad school at Baruch so most of the stuff we were talking about was that. He was really easy to talk to. I left after an hour and went to my grandma's house. I found him on Facebook and showed him to Michelle and she was like "omg, he is soo hot. I would bang him!" In my head, I was like really? I think he's only ok.. But she made me like him more because she thought that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time I saw him was two days ago. I went to have lunch with Annette again. While Franky was waiting for the food, me and Annette was talking in the back of the office. She asked me if I thought he was cute and I was like, I guess.. &amp;gt;_&amp;lt; Then she told me he likes me; that she could tell. And I'm like -_- no way. She's such a liar! He has a girlfriend whom he loves. That's what he wrote on his Facebook. That's some dedication and something I don't want to touch.. After lunch was over, I stayed to talk to Franky again for about an hour. I don't know whether he liked my company or not.. but I feel like I'm overstaying my welcome.. lol. I think that we bonded. We would be good friends. But I don't think there's much that would ever make us have time to hang out. Except that he also bought a membership to Bodhi fitness! Not that I want him to see me sweaty and nasty at the gym, but I don't mind seeing him there sometimes. I don't know when he goes so I'm going to let Fate make our chance meetings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I went to hang with Annette again at work because she said she's going to bring her dog and I was excited to see her. Franky said he might come. He didn't. Annette asked me if I liked him. I said no, but I couldn't keep a straight face.. I tried, but Annette was making me embarrassed and red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what made me like him more now.. I mean, he has a girlfriend who seems really nice based on pictures. I guess because he has a great personality. And he is like the perfect size... I don't know. A part of me wants him to be single.. so that I could like him without guilt. But another part of me wants him to stay taken because if he wasn't, Annette would make him date me.. I don't want anyone to feel forced to date me. I want it to be easy flowing. Sad face. I don't think I'm pretty enough to get a guy like that.. I need to work on myself first. I need to love how I look first before expecting someone else to like it. I like that I can get giddie over a guy. I think it's good to let someone make you feel giddie. I'll get over him. He's just someone to help me feel like a little girl again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a dream last night about a cute guy.. It was a beautiful dream. He took an interest in me and he was pursuing me. He was holding my hand and being all cutesy. I guess, if you like a guy, then the cuteness makes you fall for them badly. If you weren't interested, that's when it just seems gay and disgusting. I loved that dream. I wish it was real life..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, below is a poem I wrote about liking someone that I cannot have. The title is perfect. It was because of Annette and my cousin's comments that created my feelings. It was their fluffing that made me like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Letters of Recommendation &lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;[poem]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I never knew this existed,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Until she made me want it so,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Overwhelming me with what I once resisted,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Something I felt a long time ago.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I turned a blind eye to it,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But I guess it did not succeed.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I wonder if it has already found its fit,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Leaving mine alone to bleed.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If I did not want this,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Can I stop myself from feeling glum?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Since I know it is wrong to try for his,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Should I just wait for another to come?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;How can I prevent the thoughts that linger,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When my heart is like a tyrant?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Slowly waiting to cause a stir,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When all I want is for it to silent?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Subconsciously breaking me apart,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;And mocking me in my sleep.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What to do with this rogue heart,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That is deaf to logic and in too deep.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;His shines like stars in a rural sky,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But it beams for only one unshaken.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Let me just watch with a blind eye,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Of my desire for one that is already taken.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;[11/29/11 update: it's one thing to have other people tell you who's right for  you, but when your subconscious takes part in it as well, it's pretty  hard to avoid.. Why do I keep seeing his name everywhere? And every time I see it, I just say "what the fuck?!" because it's so random. I don't even think about him that often. Why am I being pushed into this? He has a girlfriend. I wanna forsake him. Why make me want someone that I do not want? Even my innards are against me.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-3854391655817639573?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/3854391655817639573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/10/dilemma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3854391655817639573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3854391655817639573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/10/dilemma.html' title='Dilemma'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-3973980521491953630</id><published>2011-10-05T17:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T20:53:30.342-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Complain, Therefore I Hate Myself</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zTd4yT-A0Sw/Tmn2mWCI4sI/AAAAAAAAAFc/nu6Iet0IiXo/s1600/cartoons-complaints2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 148px; height: 167px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zTd4yT-A0Sw/Tmn2mWCI4sI/AAAAAAAAAFc/nu6Iet0IiXo/s1600/cartoons-complaints2.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was it about my childhood that made me such a cynical bitch, I wonder? Why am I so skeptical? Was it because that's how I was raised? To never trust anyone, but family? eureka.. My problem with people stems from when people aren't thankful enough for what they actually have and they complain OR they're just one of those people who will never be satisfied... Like one of those people who complain about not getting something, and when they do get it, they say they regret it.. I don't like when people complain about everything. I used to listen to people without feeling anything bad about what they say, but I'm grown and matured enough to catch a spoiled brat when I see one..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend is a nice person, but she has her days.. When she calls me to complain about something small, it's like why do I even need to hear that? She shares everything with me.. even others' secrets and it's annoying because apparently, it's still a secret if she tells me.. Of course I'd keep the secret, but still. Who knows if she does that with my secrets? I don't like when people complain about everything. I don't want to hear negative things when I'm trying to bring Zen into my life. Sometimes, she asks if she's being a bitch for saying certain things. I would say yes. I mean, she asked me because she probably thinks she's being mean. I'm not going to make her feel better by saying that what she's saying isn't mean. She complained about having to take a bus and LIRR to the police station and asks if she should take a taxi. She asked if she was being a spoiled brat. I just ignored her question because she's going to be upset. I mean, what do you want me to say to that? That you're not a brat for wanting to take a cab to Long Island?? Really, especially when you're totally broke? Please, this is why you're broke. Always with the convenience and never thinking about your debt. *Deep breath* ZEN! When we're being dumb and talking about the light stuff, then I love being around her.. I don't mind if she talks about her ex either. But now I do.. She's bipolar when it comes to him. It's like she loves him one minute, and then she calls him as asshole who she's totally over with. And the cycle repeats. Just when I thought she meant it this time.. it's like ridiculous that she can't control herself. She knows the consequences of her actions, yet she still does it because she wants instant gratification even when she knows it'll hurt much more later. We both know it's illogical. And I found it funny that when we were watching a movie, she called this girl dumb for doing/saying things that were totally inappropriate. She was blind. My best friend is blind too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I know I'm being a real hypocrite for being a complainer right now. But these are my thoughts in my diary. I know not everyone is like me and keeps all my feelings inside until I can't take it anymore and explode one day. But this is my vent. I do it because I need to let the steam out.. Yes, I'm a bitch because I'm cynical. Skeptical. But it's balanced by the good in me. So ha! Let me be the bitch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-3973980521491953630?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/3973980521491953630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-complain-therefore-i-hate-myself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3973980521491953630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3973980521491953630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-complain-therefore-i-hate-myself.html' title='I Complain, Therefore I Hate Myself'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zTd4yT-A0Sw/Tmn2mWCI4sI/AAAAAAAAAFc/nu6Iet0IiXo/s72-c/cartoons-complaints2.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-1122715412108823976</id><published>2011-09-28T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T20:46:31.369-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Loving the Past</title><content type='html'>As a girl who's always been looking for love, I hate its effect on people. I've always wanted someone to love me as much as I love them. Achieving that, sadly, is not so simple..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 24. I can go down the list of guys that has ever made me feel something extravagant inside. Let's begin. (I'm excited.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. 12 years old. Christian Vanegas. He was the first guy I ever fell in love with. It was definitely not love at first sight, but it felt like it. I didn't notice him in fifth grade, but once 6th grade came aroud, it was like nothing I've ever experienced. It was then that I started writing poetry because he touched my heart so much. It was puppy love. I know because when I got my first aol screenname, it was puppylove2487. lol. I thought I would never love anyone else. I remember filling a jar up with red crunch m&amp;amp;m's because red was his favorite color and crunch was his favorite. Do you know how many individual m&amp;amp;m packets I had to buy and sort through?? Maybe that's why I'm overweight. haha. But yea. I still remember his phone number. Stole it from someone. I called it once and it was crazy! And here's why. His number is 591-1_ _ _. I guess I didn't press the 5 hard enough and I accidentally called.. the authorities!!! It was like, 'hello, police department. How can I assist you?' and I was like 'omg, I'm so sorry. I got the wrong number!' I bet the police dude was like, 'who calls the police by accident?!' lol. But yeah, that was the last time I ever did that.. and that's why I still remember his number.. Sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. 13 years old. Steven Assous. Ah, the first time I saw him, it was ridiculous. I couldn't take my eyes off him. It was in art class. He was this short, chubby guy with the darkest pair of eyes. Funny and flirty. Man, I liked him so much that I was just lovestrucked. And he definitely knew.. He had 2 guys that I think spied on me. He definitely sees me checking him out. I wonder if he checked me out too. Sigh.. He changed schools after a year, but I met him again in high school. I remember finding him in the phone book and writing a letter to him. I was so embarrassed and mortified afterwards that I tried avoiding him at all costs in high school. When I first saw him again in high school, he was taller and skinnier. He was very good looking, but my feelings changed. He stood next to me once on the bus and asked if I knew him. I acted like I didn't but he knew I knew. He was in one of my classes in college as well. He's too good looking for me. Too clean. That was the last time I ever saw him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. 16 years old. Alex Levine. High school, sophomore year. He was one of my friend's friends and boy did I like him! He was really nice and he's funny. I could have talked to him all day! His hand was warm and sweaty. Sadly, I knew him for only a year because he changed schools after a year. He took the same bus home as me so I would see him sometimes on my bus. One time when we still didn't know each other that much, we were on a crowded bus and I was holding onto the handle and he was sitting down. The bus stopped so abruptly that I lost footing and sat on him. I was so mortified!!! I couldn't have apologized enough!! Ahh. Yeah. I liked him so much. Now, I see him on Facebook and he's totally changed. He's not that shy kid that I once knew. He's more of a partyer and kind of creepy. I don't know what to think of him, but I hope under all that, he's still the same guy I fell for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. 17 years old. Danny Kang. Never spoke to him. He just seemed like a really nice guy. That's all.&lt;br /&gt;There was also this new kid. He took the same bus to school as me at the same bus stop. He has long gelled bangs and smokes. So bad ass! I guess that's why I liked him. Smitten. I think his name was Philip. Never met him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. 17.5 years old. Jun Jeong. That jerk face. It was definitely not love at first site, because he was in one of my classes sophomore year and I didn't even realize it until 2 years later. I think I started liking him on my birthday in math class. I guess I took his niceness for love and I was smitten with him. I would write about him on xanga and he would read them because he had one too and we would look at each other's. He didn't know the person I was writing about was him. One of my xanga posts was a poem that ended in "___" which was supposed to be his name. So I guess that's how he figured it out. I didn't know he started ignoring me in college until one day on his birthday, I wrote on his Facebook wishing him a happy birthday and he erased it the second I posted it. I confronted him on it too and he just walked away from me. And that's how our friendship ended. To add insult to injury, years later, he started dating Joann Lin. We knew each other because we were in the same high school. She was one of my close friends whom I took the bus home with. She knew I liked Jun. I didn't care that they went out. What I cared about was that she first refused my request to add her as a friend on Facebook. She accepted the second time. This made me wonder if Jun was talking shit about me. I've done nothing wrong to him, so what could he possibly say about me? That this fat ass bitch liked him and won't leave him alone? I just don't understand what I did. And she knew I liked him so it shouldn't have come to a shock if he told her that I liked him. Oh wells. I was so stupid. One time, I saw a picture of them two at the beach and I commented on it saying '2 Commodorians!' since that was the Bayside HS mascot. But it was so stupid that I erased it. I knew she was ignoring me too when I wrote on her wall asking how she was doing and she didn't respond. Well, I didn't want that negativity to bring me down so I deleted her as a friend. She later created a new Facebook and added me so I accepted after a couple of days of thinking about it. She actually responded to me this time so I'm willing to put it behind us. They're not dating anymore, but still friends, it seems. That's all I have to say about that. I gained no closure as to why they treated me as such because according to him, I am one of the nicest people he has ever meet. I guess I understand that if someone you don't like likes you, you don't want to deal with it. But I thought it was ridiculous how he handled it. He just totally zoned me out. If we spoke about it, I would have surely backed off. It's not like I would have acted on my feelings or sabotage his relationships. Fucking bullshit. But yea. That's it. Talking about it brings back such hate in me, yet I know he's not a bad guy so I can't wish harm onto him. I hope he gets mad mosquito bites!!! Moving on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. 19 years old. Joe Ferrara. He was difficult for me to let go when I tried. I met him when I volunteered at Chapin Home for the Aging. He was my boss's son. He was 24 at the time. He was the nicest guy I've ever met. So I thought. I guess he took interest in me because I was around his age. But I see how he interacts. He's nice to everyone. But I was so hooked and blinded by him. When I started working there as an on-call, he would ask me to work on certain days. Of course, I said yes. Always yes because I wanted to work with him. But it wasn't until I fell out of love with him that I realized that he was using me. He wanted to take certain days off and used me to replace him for those days he requested. He wanted me to work because he can't take off unless he finds someone to take his place. I was a fool, but I can't blame him. I would have done the same thing if I knew a guy liked me. I remember he told me he knows whenever a girl likes him. Many times, he tried to get me to reveal my feelings. One time, I asked him for help and he leaned over and put his hand on mine. At that moment, I didn't know what to do. But after, I thought, man the table was so big. Out of everywhere that he could have placed his hand, it had to be on mine. I think he liked a lot of people. Why shouldn't he? He was a really nice guy, and there were mad college girls who came to volunteer from St. John's. He even started dating one of them. He told me about it, but I already knew then. He told me that when he likes someone, that's where all his mind goes to and I saw that in his work. He zones out a lot. It was crazy. But I stopped liking him before they started dating. I remember once that I cried myself to sleep when I heard he was leaving the nursing home. But I got over it. But when I was crying my eyes out, I thought I could never have stopped loving him. I was that infatuated. But it was a turn off that he said he focuses 100% on the person he's with. I don't want to be the cause of people's incompetence. It's funny to think that, but it's quite sad. I went to my first bar with him. He asked why it always takes me so long to respond. And it literally took me long to respond to that question because I was shocked. LOL. I don't know. I guess I want to think about what I say before I say it. Maybe because my mind is blank most of the time. But he made me realize that no matter how much you can like a person, feelings will eventually change and we move on. I was always shy around him. He just made me very awkward. Maybe because I liked him. Not sure, but I don't want to see him. I think I saw him once bicycling with a girl near my house and I ran across the street just to avoid someone who &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;could have &lt;/span&gt;been him. I think I fear the fact that he still thinks I like him the way I used to. I fear that a lot because nothing pisses me off more than when people misunderstand my feelings. He's such a nice person that I do not doubt he'll make someone really happy one day. I'm just really happy I was over him. I remember telling him how I like how White guys kiss because they were so passionate compared to Asian kisses in movies. I can't believe I said that! And I was drunk, indeed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. 22 years old. Samuel Wong. He was like the guy version of me. I really liked him too because he and I were so alike in so many ways. He even have the special hand lines that I have!! I thought he was my soulmate. He was funny, nice, and Taishan! It was ridiculous that he and I were like this. But getting to know him made me change my mind. He was still everything I described him to be, but I didn't feel it anymore. I guess you could say that I wouldn't date myself. I feel like he's funny all the time and I want someone who knows when to act a certain way. What if I want to talk about something serious and deep? I need someone to satisfy that part of me. I think I was a bitch to him once. That, or he was being sensitive and I called him out on it. I felt like a bitch for doing so. We're still friends. We challenge each other to games occasionally, but that's about it. We will never be anything more.. And it's good because he's a pretty good friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So looking back at all these guys I've liked, I see that they're not as important to me as I used to think. I'm glad to know that I can love hard, but I learned that love's lost doesn't mean love is over. There's over 7 billion people. Life is so short, yet the list of loves are endless! High hopes for love for a shy girl who's never been in a relationship. Some call me naive, but I believe he's out there and he's waiting for me.. &amp;lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-1122715412108823976?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/1122715412108823976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/09/loving-past.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/1122715412108823976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/1122715412108823976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/09/loving-past.html' title='Loving the Past'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-343351241632875522</id><published>2011-09-24T00:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T20:28:28.438-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing with Cupid</title><content type='html'>It's a funny thing how people can easily find you attractive online just by talking to you, yet it's never like that in real life. I recently joined a dating site because Jenny was on it and I thought it would be fun. My main reason for joining was so that it would help me gain confidence about myself. I must say, when boys rate me 4 or 5 out of 5, it's pretty nice. Sometimes, I get the occasional message from dudes and many of them sound like it's been copy and pasted to every girl on the site, so I pay no attention to those. But there's this one guy, who sent me a second message about me not answering his first one, so I answered him back. He shared a riddle and a poem. I shared a poem and he seems mesmerized by my "soul". I don't know what to think. Since I'm skeptical, I think he's playing with me. But my caring nature makes me feel bad for him if he's being sincere. I made sure to put on my profile that I refuse to meet anyone on the site, yet he brushes it off like I'm going to change my mind in the future. He says he likes my honesty and calls me amazing/rare. I feel guilty that he's paying this much attention to me because it's not going anywhere. All I want out of this site is to see how guys are like and maybe share some jokes along the way.. I never wanted to get serious. Damn my honesty. I feel bad. I told him it makes me weird when he compliments me, but he still manages to do it... I don't know what to do.. I even went on his profile lately and I could see that he changed some of his stuff which leaned towards finding someone kind of like me.. Flattered, but guilting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's this other guy who started with a riddle which I thought was cool. He seemed like the type of person I want to chat with on this site. He keeps things funny and light. That's all I want. I don't want to proceed any further than that. He replied back after 2 days saying he wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to me still because I wasn't planning on meeting him, and he prefer physically seeing the people he become friends with. Completely understandable, but a shot to my heart. I'll admit, my feelings were hurt, but it's understandable. I told him it was ok to not talk to me. I'd rather it happen now, before he charms the pants off me. Figuratively of course, and I didn't write the pants part to him. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's this other guy who messaged me. The complete type of person that I loathe to be with the most. He has long hair, and he even said it himself that he spends 80% of the time fixing his hair.. He's mad skinny too, which obviously will make me look like a total orange. He's 3 years younger and a bit too emo for me. But he did seem like he'd be the type of friend I'd meet in school or something. Like those guys who are nerdy and outcastey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another guy said my "kissy face makes me want to kiss stuff" and I was both flattered yet totally creeped out by it. There's mad weird people out there. And this is the reason I refuse to meet anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this black guy who said he wanted to ask me something but I got really scared because the site put him as 71% enemy. Yeesh. It was him who almost made me delete my account. And I think I'll be shutting down my account soon. It's messed up if I'm toying with people's emotions even if I don't intentionally do it. This is the problem most of the time. People mistake niceness with attraction. And I'll be the first to admit that I've fallen a victim to that before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is so difficult. All I know is, even though the commercial for eHarmony says that 1 of 5 people meet on dating sites, it's really not for me. I shouldn't have opened an account if I'm not using the site for what it was intended for which is to meet people. Yeah, I'm going to have to delete it soon because I feel guilty.. I'm scared, however, to have to write a message of good bye to the people who I've spoken too. It'd be rude to just drop off the face of the site without telling them anything.. They might think I blocked them. There's no doubt I'll delete my account.. the main question is when. Definitely by the end of October..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-343351241632875522?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/343351241632875522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/09/playing-with-cupid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/343351241632875522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/343351241632875522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/09/playing-with-cupid.html' title='Playing with Cupid'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-5820063784693307405</id><published>2011-02-14T19:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T20:04:48.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"I Have Suffered Enough"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.savagechickens.com/images/chickensuffer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 457px; height: 357px;" src="http://www.savagechickens.com/images/chickensuffer.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was listening to one of the Dharma talks by Sharon Salzberg and the one thing that drew my attention as I was listening to it on my subway ride home was the words "I have suffered enough".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered having a conversation with Kathy about suffering and how I felt that some people liked to suffer. I don't mean people welcome suffering into their lives any chance they get, but I do feel that some people are drawn toward it.. maybe because of the pity or sympathy that other people would feel for them. Another thing that stood out from the podcast was the question of why people love humans? It's because we feel compassion for one other. And maybe that's what we all hunger for. Attention. Just someone to care about us, whether it's love or pity. Some feeling is better than no feeling at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, not to sound cold or anything that would make me look like I've never loved a day in my life but look at the facts. If someone/something is making you suffer, then wouldn't you try all you can to avoid it? What does it say about you if you always go back to the suffering just for a moment of pleasure that you know will push you back 2 steps? Do you not consider those people the type that subconsciously love to suffer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call it tough love because I'm going to use this as a wake up call to all the weaklings that doubt themselves because of the ill-treatment that molded their minds into thinking that way. If you are in the receiving end of the verbal rampage, then I hope you see that behind all the vulgarity that it was said because of love and I do want you to be happy..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear You,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Applying the same logic: 'if you work hard for something, then you will eventually get it', then you deserve to suffer. You've suffered for so long and you've dedicated all this time crying over someone that doesn't deserve all this attention in the first place, or at least not for this long. Yet, still you dedicate yourself to suffering. You should suffer. I mean, you worked so hard for it so it's yours. You should just dedicate a good days' work of time to just sit and suffer. Suffer everyday for the rest of your life because that's exactly what you want, right? Make it your daily routine. It's something you worked hard for, so you deserve it. Lay under your covers and cry your heart out because you suffered for so long.. it's yours for the taking now. Just suffer. You. Deserve. It.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you have to say to that, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WRONG!!! You're supposed to say 'stupid bitch, I have suffered enough!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exactly, you have suffered enough. Stop with it already. Acknowledge the suffering and what caused it. Then, let it go and move on. It's not helping your sanity by holding on to it for so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once something had become a chore, you just don't want to do it anymore. Same with suffering.. If you tell someone to dedicate a time for suffering, much like school, then people are less likely to do so because they know they don't deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realize that it's not the end of the world. Realize that it's just one person. If I were to tell you that there is one person who can affect you so badly, would you not try to rebel against it? Everything is mental. Learn to control it. Or else, you're just helpless and you'll just suffer.. At this point, I've given up and I will no longer console someone that can not be consoled. My last straw will be if you don't heed my words..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live. Love. Learn.&lt;br /&gt;And Move On.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-5820063784693307405?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/5820063784693307405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-h.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/5820063784693307405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/5820063784693307405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-h.html' title='&quot;I Have Suffered Enough&quot;'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-3766267169437355345</id><published>2011-02-11T12:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T19:57:41.078-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mind Cheating</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/jlv/lowres/jlvn557l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 349px; height: 400px;" src="http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/jlv/lowres/jlvn557l.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a dream about my best friend's first love.. I felt like I betrayed her..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my best friend fell in love 3 years ago to a guy that is a fairly decent person. He's very personable and not bad looking. He's playful in nature and smart. Yeah, he's very likable, but I don't like the fact that he gave up on their relationship after things started getting complicated.. such as having a long distance relationship. For that, I can't respect him..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This wasn't the first dream I've had of him. The first I think it was just me and him standing on a street corner in Flushing at around 10 p.m. waiting for Jenny to be done with her classes. Then a women right next to us had a heart attack and we both tried to look for help for her. That was it. I told her about the dream and the first thing she asked me was whether I thought about him often.. I was pretty ticked off that she would ask me that because we're best friends and the fact that she was the common denominator in the dream was obviously irrelevant to her. All she saw was that I dreamt about the ex that got away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, this dream I had last night was a pretty darn good dream considering the fact that I don't have any male contact in real life. Any action from dreams are welcomed actions in my heart. But for my mind, because it was my best friend's first love, it was a bit unsettling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream, as far as I can remember, was that he was very drunk and I was the only one with him, so I basically carried him to my house. For some reason, I put him on my mom's bed because that was the "normal" place to put him. At that time, I tried to get him into the bed and let him sleep it off, but he just grabbed a camera (as if it was his house and we were in his room) and he took a picture of me because he wanted to keep this memory of me. I don't know why.. but that was the moment that I started having feelings for him. (In the dream only, of course) It probably could have been anyone and I would have liked him the moment I felt he had feelings for me as well. It was a very vulnerable moment and I just felt a connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I knew, my mom came home and I tried to explain to her that he's drunk and I had nowhere else to take him. She cried hysterically saying that she couldn't believe I had the balls to bring a guy home that wasn't my husband. This was weird because I've never seen my mom cry so I think my mind made up an image that was just overly animated. [update: 2/12, I told my mom about this dream when my relatives were talking about relationships one night. She was telling my 16 year old cousin to find a boyfriend. When my cousin asked her why she doesn't tell me that, she said I don't have the confidence to do so. Yea, mom's given up hope on her dear daughter. Then I told them about the dream for a good laugh. It was a fun moment.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last thing I remembered was that he moved on to somebody new. She was a friend of mine who's as innocent as can be. And I was a bit jealous. I couldn't hate her. She was too kind to hate. And he was just being a "guy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do I interpret this? Is it that he's a jerk that preys on innocent girls and try to corrupt them? Do I have the right to hate myself for having a dream about a guy that, after 2 years of breaking up, my best friend is still in love with him? I don't know. I feel bad, but know it's not my fault. So the guilt shall end with this sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today I woke up and I started exercising. I did about an hour on the treadmill. And man, was I funky. Took a shower and went to Chapin Home for lunch with my dear friend, Kathy. The main thing I love about hanging with Kathy is that even though I have nothing to say, she gets the conversations going, yet she never centers the attention on herself. We spoke about some irrelevant things, but we also touched on religion and Buddhism. We spoke about meditation and how we have to control the way we think to become a better person. The lunch was very enlightening. As far as I can remember, I looked up to Kathy because she was such a kind person and the way she thinks is very inspiring. She spoke about how we all have our own journeys to go through and how we should never dwell on the bad because it creates suffering in us and for those around us. And it got me thinking.. I know I am a great person with a great heart, but I also know that I have an attitude about me that needs more controlling. Even though many people don't see this side of me, those close to me do. They are in my life so much that they have to see this part of me. The part that is angry, bitchy, moody and opinionated. But is that me? A part of it is. But most people see the gentle, sweet, innocent, lovable, quirky, shy me. That's a part of me too. So who is the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;real&lt;/span&gt; me? I'm not sure.. It's not like I make up a personality to gain friends. It's just that different people open up a different part of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Kathy that the last thing that really frustrated me was taking my finals. Even though it ended well (1 A. 3 A-. 1 B+), after taking each exam, I felt so helpless because I realized that I got all the easy questions wrong. I guess you can color me cocky, but I was focused on the hard ones that I forsaken the ones that were basically free points.. I told her that I came home, got really frustrated and I started punching walls. I told her that if I didn't get emotional, it would have felt as if the final didn't matter to me enough. But she said that that's not true. And I see that now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to listen to some podcasts on meditation by Sharon Salzberg because Kathy said she's amazing. I'm downloading them on my iTouch as I'm writing. Hopefully, I'll be enlightened and it'll help me go through the stresses in life..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I take these lessons and apply it to my life, and maybe rub some of it off on Jenny because she's become so negative. Well, what can you expect if those around you are bringing you down? Well, let's take this one day at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sunship.com/images/cartoons/how-not-to-meditate.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 419px; height: 461px;" src="http://www.sunship.com/images/cartoons/how-not-to-meditate.gif" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-3766267169437355345?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/3766267169437355345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/02/cheating.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3766267169437355345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3766267169437355345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/02/cheating.html' title='Mind Cheating'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-6072127145341853932</id><published>2011-01-29T09:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T19:45:52.874-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://andrea.alexross.com/adreamis.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 451px; height: 398px;" src="http://andrea.alexross.com/adreamis.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, I love how I have time to write so much lately.. I guess it won't last though seeing as how I'm back to school on monday. Poo. 5 tax classes. Insane!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up around 10:22 am just completely stressing about all my classes.. I wanted to tell my mom that if she was awake, but she wasn't. So back to my bed. Played some relaxing rain music and fell asleep again. It must have worked because I had an actual dream. Woke up around noon by Jenny's call. Poo. It was such a nice dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream: I got to meet my pregnant cousin before going back to school. I miss her. I really wanted to know how she was and stuff. I was across the street when I called her cell. She said she was also meeting this guy who is late because he's in a very important salad meeting. (lol). His name was Jimmy Ye and I think she was trying to set us up. It wasn't until the dream was over that I realized I knew a Jimmy Ye. I bet it's not the same one. (I've never really liked him in real life. I mean, he's a great guy, but I don't think there was an attraction. He had a beauty mark on his face which I'm not too fond of.) The dream ended there. Too bad it couldn't have gone further. Some action/wooing would be nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love dreaming especially when a guy is involved. All my life, my love has been one sided. It's nice to dream where you have someone who's interested in you and make your heart a little shaken because you're coy. Sure, you can &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;imagine&lt;/span&gt; how love would be like with a guy and you can &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;make&lt;/span&gt; your own story up so that a guy would love you just as much. But dreams are different. When you're awake and you think about these things, in the back of your head, you think about how pathetic it is that you're so naive. At least in dreams, you truly believe that what is happening is real. I wish I can control the dreams I have. It would truly ease the pain of being alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-6072127145341853932?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/6072127145341853932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/01/dream-is-wish-your-heart-makes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/6072127145341853932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/6072127145341853932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/01/dream-is-wish-your-heart-makes.html' title='A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-2322134941296111222</id><published>2011-01-28T00:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T19:41:00.083-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Heart Needs Some Jerking</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://g.mycommentspace.com/msgfx/162/16242.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 364px; height: 522px;" src="http://g.mycommentspace.com/msgfx/162/16242.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;There's nothing like the  classics to yank at our heart chains.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have you ever  listened to one of your favorite songs via noise-canceling  headphones  and just listened? It's a beautiful experience. It's really  an awe-some  thing. How easy it can make you shed a tear as it paints a  picture for  you and your endless, romantic imagination. I guess that's the best  thing about being single. Your thoughts can travel uninhibitedly. I  can't imagine my creation fully. I just know he has soft skin and plump  lips.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But good things come with the bad. Songs can make  you so happy that you can't help but have a great outlook on life. But  then, there are those other songs that make you depressed, yet you can't  help but listen to them. And that's all you do. Listen, live, love it  as it further consumes your sadness. Break up songs make break ups even  worst. Rejection songs make lost love songs our food for thought. How  terrible are songs to cause trouble for our hearts. I bet they do it  because it's funny. They want to instigate and make things  overexaggerated.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I guess we can learn from these songs.  Songs make you feel more than you could ever imagine to. When you think  you can't love enough, songs make you even more in love. Same with hate.  Same with rejection.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yes, I'm cynical. But after I pass  that stage of hating all the bad things that happen, I almost always try  to look at the good in every situation. Life is too short to worry too  long. I believe things happen for the best despite how bad things look.  People ask why bad things happen to good people. Well, if bad things  happen this lifetime, I'm sure we'll be compensated in another lifetime.  Fair?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thinking about all those other people out there who  has it worse than us. Is it selfish to complain about our own petty  troubles? No. We were raised differently and have a different way of  living. We grew up complaining about things that affect us the most. For  me, it's school. I've devoted myself as best I can to do the best I  can. My mother once told me that that's all she could have asked of me. To  try my best and not go insane because she'd rather have a dumb daughter  than an insane one. Then again, her words change sometimes, but these words are  forever instilled in me. That's all I ask. Is for people to accept me  for the best I can do. I don't care to be number one in everything. I'm  fine just trying my best and have other people know that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've  never been a go-getter. Just a hard worker. Most of the time, I just  let Fate do the networking for me. I told my mom that even Cinderella  found her prince. This poor, peasant girl didn't go looking for him. It  was he that found her. I'm going to be fine. A little too young to fret,  I guess. Maybe after grad school, that'll be my next thing to worry  about.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Did you know the divorce rate is 50%. That's pretty  sad. Better choose wisely, people.&lt;/p&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/9072415404917118093-2322134941296111222?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/2322134941296111222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/01/heart-needs-some-jerking.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/2322134941296111222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/2322134941296111222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/01/heart-needs-some-jerking.html' title='The Heart Needs Some Jerking'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-4088590876630376915</id><published>2011-01-24T20:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T19:34:34.877-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do I Want You Because You're Wonderful?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.deshow.net/d/file/cartoon/2008-12/love-cartoons-8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 578px; height: 333px;" src="http://www.deshow.net/d/file/cartoon/2008-12/love-cartoons-8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Mom, I'm so old!&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Then, it's time for you to date. You need to go out there and find someone.&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Mom, you say that like it's such an easy thing to do..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one of my favorite movies of all time was on tv today. Rogers and Hammerstein's Cinderella ft. Brandy and Paolo Montalban. For this blog, I would like to break down the song, Do I Love You Because You're beautiful, with my commentary. Hopefully, 5 years into the future I would share the same enthusiasm for the name of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Do I love you because you're beautiful, or are you beautiful  because I love you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Beauty is skin deep. Isn't that bullshit fed to all of us over our lifetime? Sure, you see mediocre guys dating super hotties. Everyone has different tastes. What's ugly to you, is love to me. There are many guys that are mediocre. But there are some that has something charming in their appearance. And I hope there are some guys out there that see something charming in this mediocre girl.. But because I'm so sassy, it's hard to see the beauty in me. Should I be more girly and flirt to get more guys to notice me? Should I flaunt my DD every chance I get? nah.. What would that accomplish? A boyfriend who's attracted to my fake, empty personality? How long can I keep that up? Not very long. I hope that someday some guy will see the beauty in me and love me for who I am. Not expecting a fairy tale life. Just a fairy tale love..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Am I making believe I see in you a girl too lovely to be really true?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Love is funny sometimes. Messed up other times. You can fall for a person within 5 minutes of meeting him. Then, you go home and daydream about the wonderful person that he is. Fantasize about all the great things he'll do for you as your boyfriend. Well, aren't these thoughts ever so deceitful.. Many adults think I'm wonderful with a sunny disposition. To my parents, I'm jealous, lazy, stubborn, and bitchy. Well, who's right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Do I want you because you're wonderful, or are you wonderful because I  want you?&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;/span&gt;This is a question that we should ask ourselves when we are in too deep  within a relationship. We all get blinded by love to the point that we don't know the realness in front of us. Often, an outside friend would put their two cents in and if it's something bad about the guy, we wouldn't hear of it. We would rather lose a long time friend for a guy that has blinded us. Would I? Maybe. I'd probably make up an excuse that they just don't understand him, don't understand our relationship. My love for him. While they see all too well the person he really is. Is he wonderful, because I want him? Or is he wonderful simply because he just is..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream or are you really as  beautiful as you seem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I think this is what they are to us: a sweet invention that we make up to satisfy a part of us and was created by all those fairy tales. I can't even count how many times I've thought about being swept off my feet by a prince, singer, actor. I imagine the awesome conversations we would have. And they were enamored by my innocence, honesty, and sincerity. I blame fiction. Does fairy tale love even exist? Will I ever open myself completely and give my all to one person? It makes us so vulnerable. Will I be able to trust anyone fully with my heart? I would hate myself if I gave my heart to the wrong person and it returned unmendable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-4088590876630376915?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/4088590876630376915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/01/do-i-want-you-because-youre-wonderful.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/4088590876630376915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/4088590876630376915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/01/do-i-want-you-because-youre-wonderful.html' title='Do I Want You Because You&apos;re Wonderful?'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-1541274484293931807</id><published>2011-01-23T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T22:01:16.054-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can The Best Be Hurt?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk37/spoiled_cassie/my%20screensavers/BROKEN101.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 440px; height: 517px;" src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk37/spoiled_cassie/my%20screensavers/BROKEN101.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this best friend. I can't even tell her about this blog just in case I want to write about something that pertains to her.. Her name is Jenny. I've known her since the second grade. She came to our classroom as a new student who just came from China. The teacher asked who spoke Cantonese. I had a friend named Pearl in the class and since she raised her hand, so did I. I didn't know what 'canto' was. I knew I spoke the same language as Pearl, so I just raised my hand along with her. Of course, the teacher gave Jenny to Pearl to mentor. I was a stupid child back then. I didn't understand anything. I was just plain stupid. Maybe, it was a learning disability. Sometimes, I feel like I have one. I feel like I have to study harder than the average student..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, we became fast friends, mainly because we were both Chinese. I remember in third grade when my teacher gave out treats to the groups that were the best behaved. I remembered that I would always give Jenny my candy because I knew she loved it so. I consider myself as a pretty selfless person, whether people see through my exterior or not. Sometimes, I feel guilty not getting up to give my seat to an elderly person.. It's because I'm antisocial; and I fight my thoughts on whether I should or should not get up. Then, it feels like too much time has passed that it's too late to offer my seat.. it's an endless cycle..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we've been friends ever since. She is my best friend. Senior priority. But as time passes, we became such different people. There are certain things that I can't stand about her.. She came out of a relationship that she still can't let go of after 2 years.. She cried many tears for him and I tried to be supportive, but.. it's very hard when she can't say 'no' to him. Any progress she makes to steer away, she does a 360 and goes back to the starting point. And then she cries her tears about how hurt she is.. I may be a bitch for saying this, but if you're hurting and you know who is causing it.. why do you go back to him? Yeah, I agree he seems like an awesome guy. But he's indifferent sometimes. He wasn't sure about the relationship when Jenny was studying abroad. Isn't it a sign that he's not right for her? She says he's perfect. He's not. I like his personality, but I wouldn't want someone who's indecisive.. A good weekend together will make her super happy, but doesn't she know it would put her in a sadder state afterwards? That's what I can't understand. Is it because he was her first love? Is it because I haven't found my love yet? That's what I tell her. That I've never loved so I don't know how she feels.. No, I've never been in a relationship, but I've shed a good amount of tears for a guy..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His name was Joe. I met him over 4 years ago at a nursing home that I volunteered at down the block from my house. He works there as a recreational leader. Perfect guy. His mom was the boss of the department. She's the nicest lady ever! And he's great. Very nice, sweet, funny, good looking. I have found the perfect guy.. I was so blinded that I didn't see that he was slightly using me. He knew I liked him. He knew that very well. When I got a job there, he would ask if I wanted to work on certain days. Of course, I said yes. I wanted to see more of him! But those days.. none of those days were he present for. He used me because in order for him to take a day off, he needed someone to cover for him.. And guess who could be manipulated? me. I can't blame him. I would have done the same if I was in his shoes.. I was so foolish. I didn't realize this until I fell out of love with him. I remember him telling the staff that he was resigning. Man, did I cry hard on his last day. Tears fell so vigorously to the point I was hyperventilating and I was clenching on to my chest. And because it was when everyone was asleep, I tried very hard to tone down the crying. I think I cried for an hour. I slept and woke up with a terrible headache the next morning. My eyes were swollen and puffy from all the emotions. I thought I could never love again.. He did come back. His other job wasn't what he expected. Months later, he did find the job he wanted. Not only that, while working at the nursing home, he found himself a love interest from one of the volunteers from St. Johns. At least she had the guts to get her man.. he knew I liked him a lot. And he told me if I liked someone, I should ask him out.. well, I didn't. I remembered telling him how I like kissing white guys because their kisses are so passionate. Not like the Chinese people in Asian films. Joe is white. Italian. I was basing this opinion on movies. That was embarrassing. I remembered asking him about something at work, and he leaned over to look at it and his hand was on top of mine. I was sweating as I thought about how many other areas his hand could have landed, but he put it on mine. I was too nervous to move my hand. Regret. I should have done so.. Well, I got over him. The more I stepped back and looked at the situation, the more I saw that it was just an infatuation on my part. He told me how in love he was with her. How they dated for 3 weeks and already she confessed her love and her desire to move in together. I told him my input on it: It's way too fast to say I love you and it's too early to be moving in together. And that I think it's because of her girlish fantasies. I told him that with no sneaky intention. That's how I sincerely felt. And I said it to him as one concerned friend to another. He said that when he dates, that's all he could think about. Her. He can no longer focus on anything else. And I saw that in his work. I don't want a guy who can't focus on anything but me. That's too much pressure on my part to put the same amount of thought into him. So, here's this perfect guy that I thought I really loved. Now, I feel nothing. I heard he works weekends at a Century 21 realtor a block away from my house. I remember walking home once and I saw this dude bicycling with this girl who stopped in front of the Realty place. I swore it was him.. I panicked and crossed the street to avoid who might have looked like Joe. Why? I don't know. I heard they broke up. I hope he doesn't think I still like him. That's one of my biggest fears about meeting him again; that he thinks after all these years, that I still liked him.. Three weeks ago, when I was volunteering at the nursing home, on New Years Eve, I heard that he was going to come visit. I ran like the wind. I think I was embarrassed to see him. The thing with him was that I was always shy around him. I didn't feel comfortable around him. I was just sooo incredibly shy. What kind of relationship would we have had? I doubt a comfortable one. They broke up, you know. Just checked his friend list. She's no longer on it.. I guess it was too painful..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting a little off track here. The thing is, feelings can end. It's a good thing in my case because I got over it. But now that I think about it, it's sad because what does it say about love after marriage? Will is "just end" as well? It's pretty scary stuff. The divorce rate is about 50% in the US. That's insane. The odds are so high.. How will I know for sure if the one is the The One? Poo.. I'm an ordinary person. What chance do I have to beat the odds and marry the love of my life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to Jenny. Yeah, I've heard her feelings about him. Everything from 'I love him', 'I will kill myself if he finds someone else', to 'I no longer give a shit'.. Obviously, it's not true. She will always give a shit. I know that she's my best friend and I should always side with her. When she asks for my opinion, I give her my unbiased opinion. She says I never side with her. Jenny, don't you understand that you're my best friend and I will always have your back? But I have my own opinion about this and I think you're being selfish. You get mad at him for not spending every weekend with you or tell you about his plans. It's been over 2 years. You no longer have that privilege to be mad at him. I think you play the victim too much. You put yourself in these situations. I know you can't help it, much like I couldn't help but cry over Joe leaving. You're so self conscious, and this is coming from someone who's been self-conscious her whole life. But you take it to a whole new level because you never think you're good enough for anyone. Always saying these people are too good for you. Sometimes I wonder if it's because you want people to feel bad for you or if you're really that down on yourself. If that's how he makes you feel, then screw him. How can you praise someone like that? I'm trying to give you a perspective of an outsider looking in. You want me to listen and agree with you. Sorry, but I can't do that. Maybe I'll tell you this to your face one day. I know it will hurt. That's why I've been keeping it in so long..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-1541274484293931807?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/1541274484293931807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/01/can-best-be-hurt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/1541274484293931807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/1541274484293931807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2011/01/can-best-be-hurt.html' title='Can The Best Be Hurt?'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk37/spoiled_cassie/my%20screensavers/th_BROKEN101.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-2145250257456528149</id><published>2010-12-09T21:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T21:46:52.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crying Is For the Weak; Weakness is Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fnjn10HJ9qA/TsNM_RvBbHI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/pSQLNdCYC8I/s1600/tumblr_kuachrI75b1qzjor8o1_500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 396px; height: 222px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fnjn10HJ9qA/TsNM_RvBbHI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/pSQLNdCYC8I/s320/tumblr_kuachrI75b1qzjor8o1_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675464605393054834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I recently found out I'm SAD. That's right. Social Anxiety Disorder. I saw an ad asking if I was this and that and I was like, wow, that's totally me. I guess, it's not just shyness. Great, add another disorder to my resume along with OCD. Man, my future hubby will have some baggage to get used to.. hopefully, he'll love me all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered trying to speak to my Business Communications professor Professor Cayo about this. I remember talking to him after class, and the first sentence out of my mouth was "Social anxiety disorder. How do you deal when presenting." I remembered feeling my words tremble, and that caused the next thing to happen. One tear came down. At that moment, I wasn't really listening to his advice. It was more of me wondering if this was really happening. Was I really crying? The tear was so miniature that by the time it reached my chin, it evaporated. Then a bigger one started falling. At one point, I was like "I don't know why I'm crying", and he said "Yeah, I was going to ask you about that. I don't know why you're crying either." I think that triggered the waterfall. I was so embarrassed that I started crying like crazy. Snot and all. I wished I never read that stupid article about SAD. I was perfectly happy being just "shy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that wasn't embarrassing enough, Prof. Cayo tried to relate presenting to going on a bad date. Wow, the awkwardness that was on my mind..&lt;br /&gt;Cayo: Think about a bad date.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Err...&lt;br /&gt;Cayo: You've ever been on a bad date?&lt;br /&gt;Me: No...&lt;br /&gt;Cayo: You've never been on a bad date?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I've never dated...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Crying Prude. Nice ring, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, tried to avoid going down that road, but I couldn't. lol. That was embarrassing. Yeah, turning 24 in less than a month and still nobody. So embarrassed that I can't even talk to him. I can't even look at him. I'm just so ashamed that I started crying. I don't know what came over me. I've tried to analyze the situation, and I think I've just been so overwhelmed with everything and something triggered inside of me. School was crazy tough and love was nonexistent. I'm the type of person that keeps my feelings in and sometimes write about my feelings on Facebook, or this blog if I don't want anyone I know to read it. I haven't told anyone about this blog. I've told people that I have a blog, but never linked them to it. I doubt anyone has read any of them. These are my very private thoughts. Why is my blog public then? Well, no one knows me. No one cares to read about my stuff anyway. So why not let Fate decide the one or two people who find and read them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Professor Cayo, in case you googled yourself and ended up on my blog, I would like to thank you so much. You gave me an A-, which I know is the highest grade you will ever give because you don't believe in perfection.. I feel like you gave me this grade because of my teary breakdown. I feel uneasy about it because I felt like I cheated. If I knew you would give anyone an A- if they cried in front of you, I wouldn't have done so.. I'm sorry if my tears affected your decision. But I appreciate that you saw this progress in me. And hopefully, I will take this confidence you've given me and use it in the future.. I hope I don't disappoint you. I didn't get to say good bye to you or shake your hand. I hope all is well with you, and I hope for the best in your life. I remember you telling us that your class was the most important class in my college career. Well, it definitely had the most impact on me. Thanks again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-2145250257456528149?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/2145250257456528149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/12/crying-is-for-weak-weakness-is-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/2145250257456528149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/2145250257456528149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/12/crying-is-for-weak-weakness-is-life.html' title='Crying Is For the Weak; Weakness is Life'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fnjn10HJ9qA/TsNM_RvBbHI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/pSQLNdCYC8I/s72-c/tumblr_kuachrI75b1qzjor8o1_500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-926491404880371339</id><published>2010-08-08T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T21:37:19.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Look, But Don't Touch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://files.myopera.com/Jonah1976/pics/Cartoon3.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 413px; height: 375px;" src="http://files.myopera.com/Jonah1976/pics/Cartoon3.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's one thing wrong with being painfully shy around guys: looking like you're very disinterested or looking like you are interested when you're not. You can like things about guys that make you act shy around them, or you're just not interested and they think you like them. It's stupid. Either boys are stupid, or girls are just way too confusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's start with the shy girl who is way too scared to seem interested in the guy because the handsomeness of the guy makes her heart pump way too hard. The one thing I realize is that when I see a handsome guy, I am too afraid to look at him especially if I'm by myself. So what do I do? I look straight through them, like they don't even exist. I could be really interested, but I wouldn't behave that way even though I feel that way. It's not that I don't think I'm not good enough to be with an extremely handsome man, I just feel like I'm not physically pretty enough to be in the same level to be accepted by other people. I can see the problems we would have. I would get jealous at how friendly he would be with the hot bartenders and waitresses. And if he has the personality to match, I'd wonder what I did to deserve him? What I did to stand out to catch his eye? Doubts. These doubts would ruin me. Ruin us.. Maybe I do feel like he would be too good for me. I don't know. I know I have things to offer. But... whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what about those ugly guys that think they are the "foshizzle". People say that people are most attractive to those with confidence; that if they portray themselves as hot, then others will as well. I must say it's sort of works depending on the level of ugly. If you're hideous and you walk around with swag, that's just pathetic in my opinion. That's why my confidence is low. I don't think I'm pretty enough to pull it off. I'm fat and who will like me? I'm too shy to have that many friends that if I were to ask them all out, there would be a good enough chance at least one will say yes. But I have no more than those that I can count with my two hands. I think most of my friends are the type that contain a low profile. Work, school, home. That's basically their life in a jar. I don't like to go out at night. I don't like creepers. I don't have what they're after. I don't like being disrespected... However, I do like to play. As boring as my life is, I do have a vivid imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always had this deep desire to live a double life. I want to work and go to grad school on week days, and by week's end, I would put on a wig and go have a wild time. Drink some booze and forget my worries. Yes, that would be a nice way to efficiently live a fulfilling life. But alas, all I do on weekends is study, tv, and go to my grandma's house. That's what I did for the past decade. Nothing has changed. Still single, and not loving it. I'm boring enough to be okay in a relationship, and not feel like I'm trapped. People say that dating is bad; boys are bad. I don't care. I want to experience it for myself. I want to feel the heartache. I want to feel the pain and joy, the roller coaster ride; everything. I know that there are level-headed people who trusted their heart to the wrong person, who just seemed so right at that moment. There's no surpassing these types to get to the better ones out there. You need to experience the jerks to know what you really want in life. And what I want is to meet guys. I'm 23. If I want to get married by the age of 28, I need to get moving. Time is ticking away regardless of how unproductive I am in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is a moving. Better start cracking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-926491404880371339?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/926491404880371339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/08/look-but-dont-touch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/926491404880371339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/926491404880371339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/08/look-but-dont-touch.html' title='Look, But Don&apos;t Touch'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-3643902966740244892</id><published>2010-08-05T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T21:30:51.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's One For the Dogs.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xdCJjwlMZVk/TFUHkTFiHoI/AAAAAAAAATk/8IGvYCTT2Xg/s1600/love-you-shirt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 391px; height: 385px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xdCJjwlMZVk/TFUHkTFiHoI/AAAAAAAAATk/8IGvYCTT2Xg/s1600/love-you-shirt.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"The life that I have&lt;br /&gt;Is all that I have&lt;br /&gt;And the life that I have&lt;br /&gt;Is yours"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-Leo Marks&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;How I love this stanza from Leo Marks? It wasn't until Chelsea Clinton got married that I found this lovely poem since it was the "official" wedding poem. And how these words ring true. Marriage is about finding the right person, and being able to be vulnerable with him. We only have one life to live, and before we hit the big 3-0, we're most likely giving it to who I'd like to call "my better half". We get one life; we choose one person. And we must choose oh so wisely because weddings are expensive, and presents don't really cover the cost of everything. Materially, the bride and groom lose. Emotionally, they are at the bargain end of the deal if they found their better halves. Sometimes I feel like people do not get the bigger picture, and that's when they marry wrong. Being crazy about that person doesn't make the relationship work because what happens when it all fizzles? Where do you go from there? When a relationship develops, and the guy knows you are his forever, will he feel the need to impress you or be chivalrous? No. And we can't be mad at them for being this way because we are the same way. Once you're his, there's no need for chase. There's no need for impressing. The hunt is over.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I find it really hard to find the right guy. Any guy for that matter. I'm 23 and single. All my life. No action, no nothing. I'm too shy, and let's face it, I can be a bit intimidating because I rarely smile in public. My emo make up doesn't help make things any better. And when I am attracted to a guy I see, I get too nervous to look at him, and so I look through him. I literally look his way, but right passed him. That's a very conceited thing to do, but I can't help it. Guys scare the hell out of me. And my friends don't paint a better picture for me about them either. If anything, they make me wear a pair of non-rose colored glasses. They call them jerks and douches. And it sometimes surprises me to meet a guy and think he's someone decent, then to find out he has multiple girlfriends. I've come to believe that all guys are the same. That they have no feelings. That they don't care about girls. They just want us for our goods and they leave when it runs out. Or if she becomes crazy, of course.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm not quite sure what type of girlfriend I'll be. In my head, I seem like a nonchalant type, but I have my obsessive episodes. I remember finding a crush who moved away's address through the phonebook, and one time I obsessively Facebooked stalked this guy for 2 weeks during Freshman year of college. I took his 'you can come and talk to me about anything' phrase on Facebook too seriously, and I talked on his wall. When he didn't respond, I went all apes on him asking why he wasn't responding to me, and asked if he thought I was crazy. I later felt disgusted and embarrassed by my behavior that I stopped talking to him, and deleted him off Facebook. Never doing that again! I hated to think I was "that" crazy stalker girl that people talked about. yikes!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So my approach to relationships is that if it happens, then it happens. If he cheats, then it's better to find out now, before you are tied down. I don't think love should be so hard. It should just fit. If there are doubts, then there will be 'what ifs' haunting the relationship, and instigate when things are at its worst. Love should be bam bam, I'm in love. He looks at me, and I just can't stop looking back at him. I believe in this magic.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;On a non related note. I was walking home today, and I found this hot dog 3 houses away. He seemed lost because the door he was standing in front of was closed. He stared at me, and I stared at him. It was a good 5 seconds. I made some smooching noises, and he ran to me. He jumped on me like there was no tomorrow. At first, I was like eww, but a flashback of a few years ago where I found this dog wandering the streets in the rain, and how bad I felt not stopping to help it. I think I saw signs of a missing dog the next day for him. :( So I stopped. I saw a tag so I knew he wasn't a stray. I could hardly hold him long enough to read the number off his tag, when he ran away. I hesitated whether I should go home, or follow him... And I chose the latter. I followed him as he went into a neighbor's yard. I tried making the noise again to no avail. I bent over and he charged at me. Yes, long enough for me to dial the number! I told her I found her dog, and a guy came out of the house the dog was in. omg. Here I was trying to lure him away from that house, when that's where he lived. -_- Felt like a dork. The dog's name was Tips. But that jerk didn't even say thanks. He just called the dog and that's it. Whatever, man. I liked his dog, though. So energetic. I have lots of paw prints on my black pants. I didn't even care that he was all over me. And I have OCD! lol. I want a dog of my own. In the words of Britney Spears: my loneliness is killing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-3643902966740244892?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/3643902966740244892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/08/heres-one-for-dogs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3643902966740244892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/3643902966740244892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/08/heres-one-for-dogs.html' title='Here&apos;s One For the Dogs.'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xdCJjwlMZVk/TFUHkTFiHoI/AAAAAAAAATk/8IGvYCTT2Xg/s72-c/love-you-shirt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-6894378454201642778</id><published>2010-04-20T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T21:21:07.889-08:00</updated><title type='text'>China Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ih2.redbubble.net/work.5926161.1.flat,550x550,075,f.broken-heart.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 426px; height: 502px;" src="http://ih2.redbubble.net/work.5926161.1.flat,550x550,075,f.broken-heart.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to my dad's hometown in Taishan, China, it was a whole different world. Completely rural, and even the city looked suburban. Thank God that my aunt bought an apartment with a decent bathroom, but oh how I dreaded the public bathrooms.. My first time was at a McDonalds. I went in and the floor was wet.. yuck. The bathrooms are on the floor, like a sink. It's nasty. I squatted and I was wondering if I was doing it right. I turned my body and wondered perhaps I was doing it in the wrong direction. lol. But I was right the first time. But it was messy. I'll say no more..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people there are starers. I didn't know whether I loved that or loathed it. You see, in a.m.e.r.i.c.a., staring is rude. But these people, on the other side of the world stare like there's no tomorrow; even when they see you staring, they won't stop staring. I would joke when my family and I were walking that people were staring at them instead, but clearly I was the focal point. I don't know what it was about  me.. I wore regular clothes, I wasn't wearing makeup, and I think I blended in.. Well, except, of course, my pasty fair skin and that I'm fatter than the average Asian. I remember I was at the school where my cousin taught gym (rest in peace, my cousin, and all those who died in the tragic accident... *kiss, kiss, kiss*.) there was this one girl who stared at me as she got out of class. She just stared at me. I stared back, and I think she glared a little.. stupid bitch* (I meant, little kid).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I realized in China was that when waiters wait on you saying, 'what do you want pretty girl?' that they are lying. They don't think you're pretty. I was at the restaurant and this dude said it to this chick. She was an ugly chick. They lied. Never take them seriously!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no good looking guys in China.. it was very disappointing. I think I had a crush on 3 guys in my five week stay there. One was the driver. He was pretty light skinned, and he's a pretty nice person. I guess that's why I crushed on him. But that's it. I heard his dad is arranging a marriage between him and this country girl. I can't imagine being forced to do that. I'm more rebellious when it comes to being forced to love someone. There was this other guy I met through one of my dad's best friends' friend. He was so worldly and he's an expert at something, and he's an entrepreneur!!! He travels a lot, which is pretty awesome. He's an expert at fishing, and I think he won prizes for it. And back then, he bought all these houses and collected on rent, and got his income on that.. That's pretty awesome! He smokes though, and his teeth is rotting. Oh, and he spoke a bit English too!! That's really impressive.  So yeah. Moving on the guy that practically stole my heart. It was a beautiful day. I always wanted to catch fish at the pond where my dad owns, at the village where he was raised in. Yeah, my dad and his siblings are a pretty big deal, because they came to the US for a better life, and they would send money home to the village. Yeah. The whole village came to see me fish out the fishes! I thought it was a no biggie thing. I thought I would have fish food to lure them, and I catch them with a net. Oh no. So wrong. They had 8 people, 4 on each side of the pond holding a pond long net and dragged it across the pond to bring all the fishes to one side. Everyone was there. It was sooo weird and awkward. I didn't want to be the center of attention. But I realized that everyone wasn't there to look at me catch fish. They were there to get a fish to bring home to cook. That was when I saw this guy in the red t-shirt. Man was he cute.. I couldn't stop staring.. But he got his fish and left. Later that night, we dined out. We had fish soup and I saw him there. He was sooo cute.. eek! I wanted to take a picture of him, but I didn't. Oh wells. My dad's friend drove us home, and coincidentally, he gave a ride to Red Shirt.. The situation with him is that he is the son of someone my dad knew. His parents live in Boston right now.. which gave me hope that if he came to US, that we would meet again. And when he was answering my dad, he turned to the back of the car and I swear he was looking at me when he was talking. I was staring too. It was dark, but man, our beady eyes were checking the other out. But I realized something about him when I first saw him. He had a great smile, but his teeth was horrendous! Like ew, it was soo black. blah. I mean they look like they could get a good cleaning and wallah, it'll look decent! But no. Sigh. I struggled whether if we had relations, that my parents would approve. The good: He's from my dad's hometown and he's cute. The bad: He sells cellphones and his teeth is blah. Yeah. I don't know if it'll work though. He doesn't speak English. That means that he won't be able to understand my humor or jokes, which is a major biggie. I want to be able to make my hubby laugh, and clearly, I can't do it if he doesn't understand my American humor. He might think I'm a major bitch since I have some sarcastic humor and he's translating it wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw him 3 more times. One was an awesome night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were having dinner and we had 2 tables. Since I came in the car with my dad, I sat with him. I didn't realize I was at the "guys table", which was what it was. I sat with all guys. My mom told me to sit with her, but my uncle wanted me to sit with him, I guess because he's shy like me, and wanted me around. So I sat there. And then he came. I heard he said his name was Moon. That was cute. So he was sitting across from me. The rice came, and he gave me the cutest eyebrow. Like a 'have some' wink. I didn't know what to do, except giggle like a girl with a crush. He did it a second time.. and I looked away. Then he just started staring.. like intensely. I look up, there he was staring.. I look again, there he was... I started panicking.. I couldn't look at him, or his direction for the rest of the night. I liked the panic. I felt a rush. It was pretty awesome. It was one of the best nights there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just remembered one of my dad's best friends who died in a very tragic car crash, that also took the lives of my cousin and my dad's other best friend. It was horrible. We all cried. I couldn't imagine how my dad felt. Will we be going back? Not sure. My dad's friends made the trip the best. They brought us places and they were so funny. I loved them. They made life beautiful and comedic. The world was at a loss when they died. They made me so comfortable, and it takes something special for me to be comfortable around them. Very special. Loved them dearly. Miss them a lot..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does love die slowly with memory, or do they make us die?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like it killed a part of my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-6894378454201642778?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/6894378454201642778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/04/china-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/6894378454201642778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/6894378454201642778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/04/china-love.html' title='China Love'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-8725258983389121165</id><published>2010-04-18T19:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T21:08:10.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Olive Juice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://rlv.zcache.com/cartoon_olive_love_greeting_card-p137644757737749919q6am_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://rlv.zcache.com/cartoon_olive_love_greeting_card-p137644757737749919q6am_400.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what's tough? Saying 'I Love You'. I've never been one to throw that phrase around. It's a funny thing. I've known my best friend, Jenny since 2nd grade. That's over 14 years. I'm 23 now. I was 7. She's always saying I Love You, and the best I could say is 'Love ya'. I think it's a lesbianic phobia type thing. I don't like saying it, unless it's to a guy. I was never fond of saying it to family either. My family wasn't the emotional type. My family is mean and talks a lot of shit about everyone. And I hate that about them. Every time they get barbaric with their manners, I always think to myself, 'See, this is EXACTLY why I can't marry a prince. Because my family is like THAT!' There's no doubt that they're gonna talk about my future husband. They don't really talk smack about my dad, but that's because he doesn't smoke, drink, and he's a constant workaholic. I don't want my hubby to be a workaholic. I want to actually see my husband and chill with him. I want him to be witty, smart, and hella funny. No doubt they'll talk smack. I don't care. I know them too well. And they have a problem with EVERYONE. It's surprising my grandparents actually have friends, the way they talk about them. It's really rude, I'd have to say. So yeah, my family? Not the emotional type. I remember when I was like 16 and my dad was like, 'how come you never kiss me anymore?'. And I'm like, do you not know me? Do you not know how I was raised?! lol. So yeah. I guess what I'm trying to say is that saying those words are difficult for me. Especially when a guy is involved and the timing is uncertain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I follow a timeline, it would be like this:&lt;br /&gt;Day 1: Date the guy.&lt;br /&gt;Date 3: Kiss the guy.&lt;br /&gt;Month 3? 6? Say I love you.&lt;br /&gt;3 years later: Marry him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never know when I will transition from liking him, to being infatuated, to loving him. What's the difference between liking them deeply and loving them? I feel like I won't ever say 'I love you' until he utters those words first. I don't know if it's too soon or not. And if he says it first, will I feel obligated to say it back, or do what I always do when someone says something like that to me, and say 'thanks..'. Grr. It's really hard. I don't know if I love a person or not. I've had times where I've liked a guy so bad that it made me cry at night because he was leaving.. but I got over it. I realized he wasn't this perfect guy I thought he was, and realized that I didn't like his personality all that much when it comes to being the guy of my dreams. And then there was this other guy. Perfect. He was exactly like me in every way. He's Hoisan, which is the Chinese dialect that I speak. He has the same hand as me, where my right palm has only 2 major lines, instead of 3 and one of them is too long to be normal. That's when I basically fell for him. And his cheesy humor. I loved all those things. I liked him when I only saw him a few hours a week during my Asian Studies class. But when I took summer classes with him, I came to dislike him as a potential suitor. He was way too corny for me, and I think I hurt his feelings one time. I know I can be kind of mean about certain things I say, but it's supposed to be funny. Oh wells. Yeah, he was just like me. I've always thought that I would date myself because I'm so awesome, but I guess I'm kind of annoying as well. lol. In fact, here's a conversation I had with my younger cousin Michelle:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: If you met a guy version of yourself, would you date him?&lt;br /&gt;Michelle: No, would you?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I did. Sam. He's just like me, except he's more annoying. Am I annoying?&lt;br /&gt;Michelle: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Fine, he's EXACTLY like me, and I can't date him. So I can't date myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I'll teach my children to love. Say it well and say it often. Sometimes, when my brother comes home really late, my mom would curse his name for being out all the time. She gets quite mad. The question is should you be mad, or mad worried? God forbid, something happened to him, and all you did was get pissed. That's something I don't want to feel. But maybe that's her way of expressing worry. I express mine by knocking on wood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's an OCD thing, but I worry a lot about every thing. When my mom gets home later than usual, or my brother, or my dad, I worry like hell. I get so scared. As an OCDian, I get these scary imaged in my head, which leads me to worry and knock on my wall to ease this stress. It's scary when you feel like something happened to a loved one. I hate that feeling. That constant worry until you finally know whether they're alright or not. It upsets me a great deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom isn't really the emotional type when it comes to showing it to her children. There were times where she tells my brother or me to eat shit, or even die. Like, who says that to her children? Especially when I've told her that I've been depressed. She goes and tells me to die. Well, not in the same night, but my depression should have been in the back of her head. The most recent time she said it to me was when we were in China last November. She told me to sit like 3 consecutive times and I said no, 3 consecutive times. And I guess I was louder than usual, and she was like 'Why are you yelling at me? I'm telling you to sit for your benefit. Go die.' As her daughter, I could not say it to her, even though my brother would have been bold enough to say it back. Sometimes, in my head, I would respond saying, 'Fine. But if I die, don't regret it!' and I make a stormy exit. I won't be surprised that I would eventually be mad enough to say that. Oh wells. What can be done? Nothing. She won't change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to be loved. I think I deserve it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-8725258983389121165?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/8725258983389121165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/04/olive-juice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/8725258983389121165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/8725258983389121165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/04/olive-juice.html' title='Olive Juice'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9072415404917118093.post-6986481124452355011</id><published>2010-04-16T17:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T20:58:03.263-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Man On the Virgin Island</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.cartoonstock.com/lowres/wpa0149l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="http://www.cartoonstock.com/lowres/wpa0149l.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;pre&gt;We often hear that no man is an island. Well, on this island,&lt;br /&gt;I doubt anyone would even come near it. You would think there&lt;br /&gt;were sirens surrounding my lonely island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shall I explain why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am 23 year old virgin living in New York. Carrie Bradshaw,&lt;br /&gt;I am not. How's that life going? Not too well. Never kissed,&lt;br /&gt;never dated, never nothing! Being a virgin can be tough&lt;br /&gt;sometimes, especially at this age where no guy wants to&lt;br /&gt;settle down. All they wanna do is play, play, play. That's&lt;br /&gt;all they care about! How will I meet someone? Where? What&lt;br /&gt;will they think when I suddenly blurt out that I'm a virgin?&lt;br /&gt;I can just imagine how it's gonna go down...&lt;br /&gt;Reminisce: the situation&lt;br /&gt;You: Hey, do you want go to the museum with me, and then go&lt;br /&gt;grab something to eat?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Like on a date?&lt;br /&gt;You: Yeah. I like you.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Thanks, but you should know something before we go any&lt;br /&gt;further. I don't want to waste your time or mine if this is&lt;br /&gt;going to be an issue for you. The whole sex before marriage thing..&lt;br /&gt;ain't gonna happen... soo..yeah.&lt;br /&gt;You: Whoa, whoa, whoa. I like you, but not THAT much!&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ok, laters.&lt;br /&gt;You: Sayonara, prude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that guys take you out because they're investing&lt;br /&gt;for a high return. I'm more of a long term investment. I'm&lt;br /&gt;someone you can bring home to mom. Or be one of those people&lt;br /&gt;who you can fake date to show your mom a nice girl, whilst&lt;br /&gt;you date the chick you met on prison chat or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abstinence is pretty dead right now. So for me to expect&lt;br /&gt;to find a handsome, chivalrous guy that is completely and&lt;br /&gt;utterly pure and untouched is pretty impossible. And if I&lt;br /&gt;do find a person like that, more often than not, the guy&lt;br /&gt;is abstaining because of religious reasons. I'm Buddhist.&lt;br /&gt;A nonreligious one at that. If religion drove them to&lt;br /&gt;practice celibacy, how will I convince them to marry&lt;br /&gt;outside their religion? Very unlikely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My reasons for abstinence are pretty simple. Whether&lt;br /&gt;it's reasonable is another thing.&lt;br /&gt;1. One obvious reason is to prevent pregnancy. I don't&lt;br /&gt;want to get pregnant and have it ruin my future plans.&lt;br /&gt;I want to go places and do stuff before I am tied down.&lt;br /&gt;I want to lose weight and keep it off for a few years&lt;br /&gt;before I ruin my body again! I don't believe in abortion&lt;br /&gt;unless rape was involved. Yeah, condoms are 99.9 percent&lt;br /&gt;effective and birth control makes it even safer to have&lt;br /&gt;sex, but I ain't gonna risk it. My parents would probably&lt;br /&gt;disown me if I were to get pregnant. My mom and grandmother&lt;br /&gt;both had their first child at 23. But that was back when&lt;br /&gt;marrying young was the thing to do. I want a career first,&lt;br /&gt;be settled, and be in love and with The One. I don't want&lt;br /&gt;to risk my future for something that was unplanned. I'm too&lt;br /&gt;young for the responsibility.&lt;br /&gt;2. The second is simple. If a guy is willing you wait years&lt;br /&gt;for you to be ready to be intimate, then they really love&lt;br /&gt;you. They're not driven by their ding dongs. They are&lt;br /&gt;serious and committed to you. If they're willing to wait&lt;br /&gt;that long, then they are more likely to not cheat on you&lt;br /&gt;after being married. They show a faithful quality that I&lt;br /&gt;want in a man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys are always driven by sex. They think about it often.&lt;br /&gt;Very often. Masturbation on a daily basis is actually normal&lt;br /&gt;AND doctor recommended. How so? Well, if you don't ejaculate,&lt;br /&gt;your old sperm will cause a build up of bacteria. Soooo those&lt;br /&gt;who ejaculate often lessen their chances of getting colon&lt;br /&gt;cancer. Speaking of colon cancer.. here's a fun joke:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can't get colon cancer with a semicolon!"&lt;br /&gt;Lol. Loves it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course guys my age think about sex. As much as I hate to&lt;br /&gt;think every guy I meet has sex on his brain, it's pretty much&lt;br /&gt;true. And to wonder whether my nerdy guy friends ever think&lt;br /&gt;of me any certain way repulses me. Bleh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How will I find love at this age? Guys play at this age.&lt;br /&gt;They're not looking for anything serious. How do I convince&lt;br /&gt;them that I'm a good enough catch to invest their futures&lt;br /&gt;with? How do I make myself stand out when I'm naturally&lt;br /&gt;a blender inner? How is a good guy to find me when I hide&lt;br /&gt;myself so well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My shy qualities are what do me in. They can be misinterpreted&lt;br /&gt;for being disinterested. I'm just scared of getting rejected.&lt;br /&gt;It's not easy falling in love. It's not easy to let people in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope someone is out there waiting for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My shyness is what hides me from the world. It takes a man&lt;br /&gt;to seek me out. If I'm lucky, he'll find me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Highlight of the day: At work. (looking at pictures)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh, who is that?&lt;br /&gt;Boss: He's a volunteer. He's cute.&lt;br /&gt;Me: He IS cute. You know who else is cute? Whopper Jr&lt;br /&gt;(this guy names James who came to fix our computers.)&lt;br /&gt;Boss: lol.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeah, he has this cross-eyed thing going on. It's pretty&lt;br /&gt;sexy.&lt;br /&gt;Boss: lol.&lt;br /&gt;Me: lol.&lt;br /&gt;He WAS cute, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9072415404917118093-6986481124452355011?l=ihide-useek.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/feeds/6986481124452355011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/04/no-man-on-virgin-island.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/6986481124452355011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9072415404917118093/posts/default/6986481124452355011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ihide-useek.blogspot.com/2010/04/no-man-on-virgin-island.html' title='No Man On the Virgin Island'/><author><name>iHide-uSeek</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01886402291645517381</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqzr7zmEdI8/TuArm63aIqI/AAAAAAAAAGA/GrMYyMff5ik/s220/Photo%2Bon%2B2011-11-19%2Bat%2B18.23.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
