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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee</id>
  <title>...Foodie...</title>
  <subtitle>...Food makes the world go round...</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>stress_bee</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2008-04-19T09:45:52Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="5313063" username="stress_bee" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:67411</id>
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    <title>The countdown begins!!! ^___^</title>
    <published>2008-04-19T09:45:52Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-19T09:45:52Z</updated>
    <lj:music>airport sounds~~</lj:music>
    <content type="html">8 more days to go~~~ ^^</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:67200</id>
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    <title>Caught in a daze</title>
    <published>2008-01-21T19:38:25Z</published>
    <updated>2008-01-21T19:38:25Z</updated>
    <content type="html">All you need is a little faith to get&amp;nbsp; by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hwaiting, Tere ya, Hwaiting!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:67023</id>
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    <title>5-4-3-2-1...!</title>
    <published>2007-12-05T04:44:19Z</published>
    <updated>2007-12-05T04:44:19Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Tell me -- wonder girls (stuck in my head)</lj:music>
    <content type="html">This is the season of countdowns...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 days more until I can say "Happy new home!"&lt;br /&gt;13 days more until I turn 24 (Holy Cow. I'm that old o_O )&lt;br /&gt;13 days more until our 6th month (Wow..my birthday and our 6th month on the same day?! woohooo~~)&lt;br /&gt;15 days more until I hop on a plane to Bangkok&lt;br /&gt;20 days more until Christmas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just love, love, love December! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Holidays everybody!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:66613</id>
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    <title>We will miss you! Come back soon!</title>
    <published>2007-09-05T18:24:44Z</published>
    <updated>2007-09-05T18:24:44Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;p&gt;I hate goodbyes even if it's just temporary ones.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the coming 6 months:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- no more sleepovers &lt;br /&gt;- no more cook outs&lt;br /&gt;- incomplete norebang group&lt;br /&gt;- minus one jologs friend&lt;br /&gt;- no more make up artist/ nail artist/ fashion consultant&lt;br /&gt;- no more borrowing of clothes&lt;br /&gt;- no more P100 gimiks&lt;br /&gt;- no more camwhoring&lt;br /&gt;- no more late night *** talks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....and so much more to miss....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will miss you! Fighting! Make us proud! Hahahaha! ^__^&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Last complete S-Club picture for this year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="7" src="http://images.chefinthemaking.multiply.com/image/4/photos/77/500x500/3/DSC00030.JPG?et=TWEYY%2BLXyHLVH6yMQmUeMQ" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:66325</id>
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    <title>Kulot kung kulot</title>
    <published>2007-08-29T00:18:26Z</published>
    <updated>2007-08-29T00:18:26Z</updated>
    <lj:music>spider pig</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I finally had a perm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that it was free pushed me to do it (and yes, I wanted a new look also). Seriously, I don't really know if it looks good on me. When I look at myself in the mirror and stare at my new curls, the first thing that comes to my mind is "Do I look like a poodle?!" It's crazy. I know. Maybe I'm just not used to seeing my hair all curly and poofy. Haha. I hope it looks better when it grows longer. Honestly, I think it looks cute. Not hot. Not sexy. But, cute..like a little girl's hairstyle. I even think I look younger now. more than before. Maybe I could pass as 16 or 17? Haha. Maybe, I'm pushing the envelope too far. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You gotta love it or hate it. (I meant, the curls) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tada!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img border="6" alt="" src="http://images.chefinthemaking.multiply.com/image/3/photos/76/500x500/3/new%20hair%20003.jpg?et=Szi9w8o5a2mm8VdVPcnDvQ" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Newly permed hair...still fresh from the salon... ^^</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:66201</id>
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    <title>Sleeping problem</title>
    <published>2007-08-01T01:09:03Z</published>
    <updated>2007-08-01T01:09:03Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Sleeping to dream - jason Mraz</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I have a sleeping problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how late I sleep, I always manage to wake up at around 6am or 7am. No kidding. It's sheer torture. I usually sleep like 4 to 5 hours in a day as opposed to the healthy sleeping time of 8 hours. I seriously look like a Panda bear with my eyebags. I want to be able to sleep for 8 hours straight. When? When? How? How? It's a good thing I haven't gotten sick yet but I have a great feeling that I will. DAMN YOU, SALAZAR! Puhahaha~ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions on how to normalize my body clock???</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:66020</id>
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    <title>Happiest girl in the world</title>
    <published>2007-07-22T18:32:15Z</published>
    <updated>2007-07-22T18:32:15Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Beautiful -- Patrick Nuo</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Nice girl no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ain't last in line, bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahahaha! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Mim, Cha and Uri...even if you guys spied on us. (And, I didn't even know!!!)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:65625</id>
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    <title>Amen! Amen I say to you!!!</title>
    <published>2007-07-20T03:00:48Z</published>
    <updated>2007-07-20T03:00:48Z</updated>
    <lj:music>John Mayer -- Love song for no one</lj:music>
    <content type="html">&lt;span style="font-size: 36pt; line-height: 100%;"&gt;Nice Girls Finish Last &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who don't give it up on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who understand that they aren't perfect and that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time he'll have understood. This is an homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don't deserve their attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and john tesh up the guys in their lives without saying a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the rite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds." This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude L0VESzs and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn't care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one's for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won't because it's easier to sleep with a rainbow than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you've returned home alone, for the nights when you've seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he's with to be a random hookup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship: it was that he didn't want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the "I really like you, so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you've received from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we've believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we'd have ever wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for the girls who have been satisified with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what I don't understand. Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don't appreciate them and don't want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mindgames, that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet, men, I ask you: were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call... and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the "stalker chick" you'd met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this "nice girl" who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you're not looking for a nice girl. You're not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intermural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you're looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So don't say you're on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won't answer your catcalls, sometimes you're looking at a nice girl in rainbow's clothing - - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we're all thinking the same thing: "This isn't me. Tomorrow morning, I'll be wearing a teeshirt and flannel shorts, I'll have slept alone and I'll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me." You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don't want the nice girl.. so don't say you're looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we're willing to extend - - but in return, we're looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they're running they're chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets... the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congradulatory hug (and yes, if she's a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won't matter), hoping against hope that maybe you'll realize that they're the ones that you want at the end of that silly race.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe it won't last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we're waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what's a concession stand at a race without some chocolate).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---nicked this off soompi.com (which was nicked off from Myspace..)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:65521</id>
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    <title>drunk.</title>
    <published>2007-07-18T17:58:28Z</published>
    <updated>2007-07-18T17:58:28Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I'm drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soooo drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I'm sober enough to broadcast that I'm drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 bottles and I'm out!!!! TT.TT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Low tolerance for alcohol...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dang.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:65245</id>
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    <title>stress_bee @ 2007-07-18T13:55:00</title>
    <published>2007-07-18T05:55:46Z</published>
    <updated>2007-07-18T05:55:46Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Leche kaaaa!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.T</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:64427</id>
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    <title>Give and Take</title>
    <published>2007-06-08T01:25:34Z</published>
    <updated>2007-07-18T05:55:19Z</updated>
    <lj:music>eppeu janha --- shinhwa</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I have always thought of myself as a giver. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I think I give too much. I just can't stand people getting sad and depressed...especially people who cry. It gets even harder when these are the people who are dearest to me. Kumbaga, kung ako lang si Britney Spears, ang kanta ko ay "I was born to make you happy". Hahaha~! It was never hard for me to give because I knew that I had nothing to lose. Seeing and making someone happy is one of the best things in the world even if, sometimes, it comes with a price. People always say that you should never lose yourself in giving. Always remember that there is still a YOU that needs attention. There is a YOU who is also in need of TLC. It's not always about the others, although it isn't so bad to think of them every so often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They tell me that I should learn how to take. Be a taker, I tell you. Being a taker doesn't mean that you turn into some monstrous opportunist and begin exploiting people's kindness and love. I need to learn how to take a step back and think of myself. It's not always about them. It's also about me. I need to learn when giving is enough. I need to learn that giving also has its boundaries. It probably wouldn't hurt to switch roles every once in a while and become the taker. I have one important point to raise though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;How can you take if there is nothing to take? How can you take if they have given you nothing?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:64219</id>
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    <title>bored</title>
    <published>2007-06-06T03:18:04Z</published>
    <updated>2007-06-06T03:18:04Z</updated>
    <content type="html">IF you go over 45, you're a bad&lt;br /&gt;influence. If you go under 10, chances&lt;br /&gt;are you live under a rock and have no&lt;br /&gt;life... even more harsh. Total the&lt;br /&gt;number of things in each list you've&lt;br /&gt;done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No need to say which ones. If people&lt;br /&gt;really want to know they will message&lt;br /&gt;you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. smoked&lt;br /&gt;2. consumed alcohol&lt;br /&gt;3. slept in the same bed with someone of the opposite sex.&lt;br /&gt;4. slept in the same bed with someone of the same sex.&lt;br /&gt;5. kissed someone of the same sex&lt;br /&gt;6. had sex&lt;br /&gt;7. had someone in your room other than family&lt;br /&gt;8. watched porn&lt;br /&gt;9. bought porn&lt;br /&gt;10. done drugs&lt;br /&gt;TOTAL: 6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. taken painkillers&lt;br /&gt;2. taken someone else's prescription medicine.&lt;br /&gt;3. lied to your parents.&lt;br /&gt;4. lied to a friend.&lt;br /&gt;5. snuck out of the house.&lt;br /&gt;6. done something illegal.&lt;br /&gt;7. cut yourself.&lt;br /&gt;8. hurt someone.&lt;br /&gt;9. wished someone to die.&lt;br /&gt;10. seen someone die.&lt;br /&gt;TOTAL: 7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. missed curfew.&lt;br /&gt;2. stayed out all night.&lt;br /&gt;3. eaten a carton of ice cream by yourself.&lt;br /&gt;4. been to a therapist.&lt;br /&gt;5. been to rehab.&lt;br /&gt;6. dyed your hair.&lt;br /&gt;7. received a ticket.&lt;br /&gt;8. been in an accident.&lt;br /&gt;9. been to a club.&lt;br /&gt;10. been to a bar.&lt;br /&gt;TOTAL: 6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. been to a wild party.&lt;br /&gt;2. seen the Mardi Gras.&lt;br /&gt;3. drank more than four beers in a night.&lt;br /&gt;4. had a spring break in Florida.&lt;br /&gt;5. sniffed anything.&lt;br /&gt;6. wore black nail polish.&lt;br /&gt;7. wore arm bands.&lt;br /&gt;8. wore t-shirts with band names.&lt;br /&gt;9. listened to rap.&lt;br /&gt;10. owned a 50 Cent CD&lt;br /&gt;TOTAL: 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. dressed Gothic.&lt;br /&gt;2. dressed prep.&lt;br /&gt;3. dressed punk.&lt;br /&gt;4. dressed grunge.&lt;br /&gt;5. stole something.&lt;br /&gt;6. been too drunk to remember anything.&lt;br /&gt;7. blacked out.&lt;br /&gt;8. fainted.&lt;br /&gt;9. had a hicky&lt;br /&gt;TOTAL: 6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. snuck into someone else's room.&lt;br /&gt;2. had a crush on your friend.&lt;br /&gt;3. been to a concert.&lt;br /&gt;4. dry-humped someone.&lt;br /&gt;5. been called a cunt.&lt;br /&gt;6. called someone a cunt.&lt;br /&gt;7. installed speakers in your car.&lt;br /&gt;8. broken a mirror.&lt;br /&gt;9. showered at someone of the opposite sex's house.&lt;br /&gt;10. brushed your teeth with someone else's toothbrush&lt;br /&gt;TOTAL: 6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. consider/considered Ludacris your favorite rapper.&lt;br /&gt;2. seen an R-rated movie in theater.&lt;br /&gt;3. cruised the mall.&lt;br /&gt;4. skipped school.&lt;br /&gt;5. had surgery.&lt;br /&gt;6. had an injury.&lt;br /&gt;7. gone to court.&lt;br /&gt;8. walked out of a restaurant without paying/tipping.&lt;br /&gt;9. caught something on fire.&lt;br /&gt;10. lied about your age.&lt;br /&gt;TOTAL: 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. owned/rented an apartment.&lt;br /&gt;2. broke the law in the police's presence.&lt;br /&gt;3. made out with someone who had a gf/bf&lt;br /&gt;4. got in trouble with the police.&lt;br /&gt;5. talked to a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;6. hugged a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;7. kissed a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;8. rode in the car with a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;9. been harassed.&lt;br /&gt;10. been verbally harassed.&lt;br /&gt;TOTAL: 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. met face-to-face with someone you met online.&lt;br /&gt;2. stayed online for 5 hours straight.&lt;br /&gt;3. talked on the phone for more than 4 hours straight.&lt;br /&gt;4. watched TV for 5 hours straight.&lt;br /&gt;5. been to a fair.&lt;br /&gt;6. been called a bad influence.&lt;br /&gt;7. drink and drive.&lt;br /&gt;8. prank-called someone.&lt;br /&gt;9. laid on a couch with someone of the opposite sex.&lt;br /&gt;10. cheated on a test.&lt;br /&gt;Total: 8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grand Total: 51&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-If You Have Less Then 10.. write [Im A&lt;br /&gt;Goody Good]&lt;br /&gt;-If You Have More Than 10.. write [im&lt;br /&gt;still a goody good]&lt;br /&gt;-If You Have more Than 20 ..write [im&lt;br /&gt;average]&lt;br /&gt;-If You Have More Than 30.. write [im a&lt;br /&gt;bad kid]&lt;br /&gt;-If You have more than 40.. write [im a&lt;br /&gt;very bad infuence]&lt;br /&gt;-If You Have 50.... write ..[wow.. im&lt;br /&gt;the worst possible person ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow...I just crossed over to being the worst possible person ever. &lt;br /&gt;Puhahaha~</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:63834</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/63834.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=63834"/>
    <title>Frail</title>
    <published>2007-06-04T14:31:56Z</published>
    <updated>2007-06-04T14:31:56Z</updated>
    <lj:music>sniffles</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Pagod na ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagod na pagod na ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TT__________TT</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:63579</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/63579.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=63579"/>
    <title>stress_bee @ 2007-06-04T13:22:00</title>
    <published>2007-06-04T05:28:13Z</published>
    <updated>2007-06-04T05:28:13Z</updated>
    <lj:music>PDA - John Legend</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Let's go to the park...I wanna kiss you underneath the stars....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:63465</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/63465.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=63465"/>
    <title>Space between (read between the lines..haha)</title>
    <published>2007-05-16T08:16:40Z</published>
    <updated>2007-05-16T08:16:40Z</updated>
    <lj:music>DMB</lj:music>
    <content type="html">You cannot quit me so quickly &lt;br /&gt;Is no hope in you for me &lt;br /&gt;No corner you could squeeze me &lt;br /&gt;But I got all the time for you, love &lt;br /&gt;The Space Between &lt;br /&gt;The tears we cry &lt;br /&gt;Is the laughter keeps us coming back for more &lt;br /&gt;The Space Between &lt;br /&gt;The wicked lies we tell &lt;br /&gt;And hope to keep us safe from the pain &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But will I hold you again? &lt;br /&gt;These fickle, fuddled words confuse me &lt;br /&gt;Like 'Will it rain today?' &lt;br /&gt;Waste the hours with talking, talking &lt;br /&gt;These twisted game we play &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;We're strange allies &lt;br /&gt;With warring hearts &lt;br /&gt;What wild-eyed beast you be &lt;br /&gt;The Space Between &lt;br /&gt;The wicked lies we tell &lt;br /&gt;And hope to keep us safe from the pain &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Will I hold you again? &lt;br /&gt;Will I hold... &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Look at us spinning out in &lt;br /&gt;The madness of a roller coaster &lt;br /&gt;You know you went off like a devil &lt;br /&gt;In a church in the middle of a crowded room &lt;br /&gt;All we can do, my love &lt;br /&gt;Is hope we don't take this ship down &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Space Between &lt;br /&gt;Where you're smiling high &lt;br /&gt;Is where you'll find me if I get tickled &lt;br /&gt;The Space Between &lt;br /&gt;The bullets in our firefight &lt;br /&gt;Is where I'll be hiding, waiting for you &lt;br /&gt;The rain that falls &lt;br /&gt;Splash in your heart &lt;br /&gt;Ran like sadness down the window into... &lt;br /&gt;The Space Between &lt;br /&gt;Our wicked lies &lt;br /&gt;Is where we hope to keep safe from pain &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Take my hand &lt;br /&gt;'Cause we're walking out of here &lt;br /&gt;Oh, right out of here &lt;br /&gt;Love is all we need here &lt;br /&gt;The Space Between &lt;br /&gt;What's wrong and right &lt;br /&gt;Is where you'll find me hiding, waiting for you &lt;br /&gt;The Space Between &lt;br /&gt;Your heart and mine &lt;br /&gt;Is the space we'll fill with time &lt;br /&gt;The Space Between...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Space Between, DMB</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:63041</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/63041.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=63041"/>
    <title>Dead end?</title>
    <published>2007-05-12T15:10:06Z</published>
    <updated>2007-05-12T15:10:06Z</updated>
    <lj:music>toc toc toc</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I've wanted to move out for so long now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. I'm an escapist. I think I'm a pro already in escaping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it that I don't have a stable job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it that I don't have money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have plans. Lots of it, in fact. I just can't move forward without resources. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;huK~</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:62964</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/62964.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=62964"/>
    <title>Wedding Bells are around the corner...</title>
    <published>2007-05-11T11:29:11Z</published>
    <updated>2007-05-11T11:29:11Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Wedding hymns</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I can hear wedding bells everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kuya Ryan's getting married on Sunday. Jay's getting married on July 7. Ate Wow's getting married next year. Who knows who's going to join them in the wedding bandwagon. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe, it could be me. (or Camille, Cha, or Uri)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also want to get married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want to marry me? *wink wink*</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:62687</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/62687.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=62687"/>
    <title>Love on the East side</title>
    <published>2007-05-02T02:45:13Z</published>
    <updated>2007-05-02T02:45:13Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Ships - Umbrellas</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Someone found LOVE in Miami.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss you muchacha! Come home na! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You still have soulmates waiting for you here in the PI!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:62204</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/62204.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=62204"/>
    <title>stress_bee @ 2007-04-11T20:00:00</title>
    <published>2007-04-11T12:05:48Z</published>
    <updated>2007-04-11T12:05:48Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Happy Birthday Song</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I just want to make this special post for one very very special person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="7"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font color="#3366ff"&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY IGIBOO!!!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt;Ahlabshyuuuuu!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;Magpa-side bar ka naman diyan. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/font&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:61711</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/61711.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=61711"/>
    <title>Namatay sa lungkot...</title>
    <published>2007-02-27T09:10:53Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-27T09:10:53Z</updated>
    <lj:music>shinhwa -- how do I say</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I never really realized that loneliness can cause death until it actually happened to someone I knew. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sana kapag namatay ako...wait..scratch that. Sana habang nabubuhay ako, mahalin ako ng mga tao sa paligid ko hanggang sa sumakabilang buhay na ako.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:61656</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/61656.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=61656"/>
    <title>Floating.</title>
    <published>2007-02-12T11:27:34Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-12T11:27:34Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Fly to the sky</lj:music>
    <content type="html">Life is uncertain.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:61302</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/61302.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=61302"/>
    <title>Goodbye, Lolo!</title>
    <published>2007-02-03T22:26:59Z</published>
    <updated>2007-02-03T22:26:59Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Muse -- starlight</lj:music>
    <content type="html">It's been a week or so since my lolo passed away. He was 96 years old. I'm just glad that Lolo was able to maximize his time here on earth. Bihira na yun nowadays :) I think he's happier now...free of pain and suffering. And, I think he's also happy because the family spent time together after such a long long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of us flew to Davao for the funeral services. The last time I went to Davao, I was still in Grade 6. Haha! We spent 6 days in Tita Annie's humble mansion in woodridge. Sarap magbakasyon away from all the commotion and chaos in Manila! Honestly, we all wanted to stay there for at least 2 weeks or something :) I really missed the cousins. I realized what a crazy bunch we were. Sheesh. Magkakadugo talaga! ^^ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm back in Manila. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Argh. Back to stress city!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:60986</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/60986.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=60986"/>
    <title>Being in limbo.</title>
    <published>2007-01-22T23:33:47Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-22T23:33:47Z</updated>
    <lj:music>John Legend -- Save Room</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I'm so confused. And, I thought I knew what I wanted in life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many things to do, so many places to go to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first step is to get out of the country as soon as possible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This is not for the reason that I despise my own country...in fact, I love the Philippines and I love being a Filipino. But, I feel a certain need to get out of my comfort zone and discover my life on my own in a place far away from here)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any ideas?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:60280</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/60280.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=60280"/>
    <title>First step of major make-over</title>
    <published>2007-01-12T11:44:46Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-12T11:44:46Z</updated>
    <content type="html">My braces are finally off!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahaha!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:stress_bee:60132</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/60132.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://stress-bee.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=60132"/>
    <title>Half empty? Half full?</title>
    <published>2007-01-10T12:06:54Z</published>
    <updated>2007-01-10T12:06:54Z</updated>
    <lj:music>My morning jacket</lj:music>
    <content type="html">I feel so empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to find myself again and try to put the broken little pieces back together.</content>
  </entry>
</feed>
